Archives for category: Politics

I often find myself thinking about the Haitian Revolution. Not because I’m a historian, nor do I feel any particular personal connection to slavery. I am quite Caucasian, thank you, and my natural empathic connections lay in far more privileged in-groups. Frankly, I have more in common with the French slavers than I do the Haitians, and that is precisely my point.

Hello comfort zone!

The Haitian Revolution was vicious. When the slaves rebelled, they did so with ferocious gusto. The Haitians tortured and slaughtered every single French family on the island, ostensibly to prevent further enslavement, but arguably as revenge for the crimes of their colonial nation. The only White folks who were spared were the Germans and Poles. In retaliation, the French set up a blockade around the island with their navy of warships and forced reparations from the new republic, demanding the former slaves pay their slavers approximately $3.5 billion USD in today’s currency, with Haiti only paying it off finally in 1947. Haiti’s modern day impoverishment was imposed by a jilted nation bitter about losing the people they owned as property.

The Haitians brutalized French civilians, killing entire families including children. Did France have the right to defend itself? In a just world, should they have invaded the poor nation to reestablish the status quo? Let’s say for the sake of argument that the French would have been delicately proportionate in their response, and avoided killing civilians, targeting only the militants who overthrew the slaver regime. They were one of the few republics globally at that point, deposing their own tyrannical rulers in their own notably dovish way; surely their cause must have been just – they were an oasis of democracy in the world! Would their resolute nobility justify returning the Haitian people to enslavement? Should we condemn the Haitians for their revolution? Surely a peaceful solution was possible, and while we may mourn the tragedy of French retaliation, devastating in its reality, we cannot abide the violence of a slave revolt. Surely.

I don’t think the Haitians had truly exhausted their kumbaya resources

Slavery is now considered one of the greatest evils humanity has ever perpetuated. To respond to it with violence isn’t actually at all controversial. When America eventually caught on that slavery is bad, it had a whole war against itself in order to reject it. To talk about the Haitian Revolution without the context of slavery is just about the most absurd thing anyone could ever do; even the worst student in a high school history class would still include the word “slavery” somewhere in their failing final paper, perhaps even in the title. When we look at the slave revolt, the keyword is already present in the phrasing. To pretend it erupts in an ahistorical vacuum would require significant leaps of racism to ignore.

My parallel is not subtle, and the criticisms are predictable. What the French did, slavery, is objectively wrong, and the Israeli treatment of Palestinians is a false equivalence. Perhaps, but we must look at the context to determine whether or not that is actually true. In the occupied territories of the West Bank (deemed illegal under international law), Israeli settlers are forcibly evicting Palestinians from their homes in order to claim the land for their own, often using violence to do so. In Gaza, one has to wonder how Israel had the power to eliminate access to drinkable water from entering the region after Hamas’s attack, along with other trifles like fuel, food, and medicine. This blockade has been in place since 2007. What do you call it when one group controls the necessities of life of another, removing access to it when they disapprove? It is driving a people into submission, reminding them who has the power over their lives. While there is no forced labour, the comparison to slavery does not feel too outrageous. There is a word that is commonly bandied about though, apartheid, as described by Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, and even the Israeli human rights group B’tselem. What does it mean to use violence against such a state of oppression?

This surrounds Gaza. This is why it’s often compared to an open-air prison with unlivable conditions even at the best of times. What kind of moral equivalence should we attribute to the imprisonment without charge of an entire people?

Which leads me to the second predictable criticism. We’ve grown as a species since the days of colonialism and slavery! We don’t need violence anymore! Even the apartheid in South Africa was resolved through the peaceful actions of the great Nelson Mandela! Violence, in any context, is inherently evil and should never be used as a political tool.

There is an old philosophical adage that states that ought implies can. This is a simple maxim that stipulates that only someone capable of acting ethically is responsible for doing so. If I can’t lift a boulder that’s crushing you to death, I am not responsible for saving you. If I’m Superman and just don’t bother to lift the boulder, then I am acting unethically. It’s fairly straightforward – we can’t perform moral duties that we are unable to perform, therefore we are not obligated to follow them.

Holding people to literally impossible standards?! Something something joke about relationships

Can Palestinians use non-violent means to end the apartheid imposed upon them? I mean they’ve tried. The United States has vetoed every single United Nations Security Council resolution that would hamper Israel’s ability to oppress them. The International Criminal Court has been rendered essentially impotent in their investigations into the matter due to America’s opposition, sanctioning prosecutors. Israel also flatly rejects the jurisdiction of the court, denying any international legitimacy to the complaints of the Palestinians. The Boycott, Divest, and Sanction (BDS) movement that attempts to use similar tactics that ended apartheid in South African is often legally impermissible, or at the very least culturally frowned upon rendering it inconsequential as peaceful protest. When Palestinians protest peacefully locally, they are often shot for their troubles. Journalists covering the situation are also killed with impunity. The list goes on.

What exactly ought the Palestinians to do? When we condemn Hamas, we’re saying they ought not to have done what they did, but the follow-up question becomes: what ought they to do instead? There does not appear to be any effective measure Palestinians can take that will alter their situation in any meaningful way. Are they simply to sit passively by? Allow history to unfold as it will, without their input? Should the Haitians simply have waited for the French to determine on their own that slavery is morally bankrupt? France ended slavery in 1848, 44 years after the Haitian revolution. Would we ask them to endure another couple generations of slavery to avoid any wearisome violence? How long do you think it will be for the Palestinians to wait, or will the historical narrative have them driven out of their homes forever? The idea of forcibly relocating a people out of their homes under threat of death has terrifying precedent.

Don’t you know that patience is a virtue?

The third and final predictable criticism is that I am justifying the terrorism of Hamas; what Hamas did was good actually, and innocent Israeli families deserve to die. Hopefully by now you’ve been able to ascertain the entire point of this article. We cannot justify the acts of Hamas in the same way we cannot condemn them. We cannot say they ought to have committed such atrocities just as much as we can’t offer an alternative. If ought implies can, and Palestine is forbidden any action whatsoever, then there can be no ethical component to their deeds. The October 7th attack can neither be condemned nor justified because it does not exist in the ethical realm. The violence of Palestinians transcend any ethical deliberation because ethics have long been unattainable for them. Hamas acted in what amounts to a state of nature, and people died. We are allowed an emotional reaction to be sure, but not an ethical one. If we want an ethical option for Palestinians to embrace, perhaps we should give them one. We can act.

If I was alive in Haiti in the early 19th century, me and my family likely would have been tortured and killed by dint of nothing more than our racial identity. I certainly wouldn’t have enjoyed it, and I would appreciate people mourning the deaths of me and my loved ones. I’ve long questioned, however, even before October 7th, 2023, the justifications for my survival in that context. What is my life or death in the face of the giant of slavery? How ought I to be treated as an accessory to slavery? What would my own moral obligations be if I survived the slaughter? How does one condemn a slave revolt in a world without ethics?

Virtue ethics are one of the oldest established ethical systems in the West. They gave the ancient Greeks traits to try to embody and paragons to try to emulate. Aristotle came up with a list of virtues with the intention of giving people a guide on how to live life successfully. Not a step-by-step instruction, but more of an encouragement toward a better way of living. It is this striving that creates the good life, the eudaimonia, where we live in flourishing happiness. We are at our best in our active virtue in the way that a horse is at its best while running, for just as the purpose of the horse is its speed, so too the purpose of a human is to live virtuously. Virtue is what we aim for, what we strive for, and in that striving, we are living well.

Being virtuous, according to Aristotle, is found within the golden mean. The best life is lived in moderation – neither to be rash nor cowardly, we should live firmly and courageously. Neither miserly nor prodigally, we should live charitably and generously. Aristotle produced a list of virtues within this golden mean as the foundational structure upon which our eudaemonic life can be built. The happy, flourishing life is one of acting honestly, patiently, modestly, and friendly.

Good to know that righteous indignation is a virtue, or I would be screwed

To become virtuous, one must obviously learn how. Virtue is a skill. One is not born patient, as anyone exposed to a child will discover. Virtues are imbued into the individual by the sage, the one who has achieved their good life. It is up to society to produce its sages so that virtue can be passed on from one generation to the next. The purpose of life is to lead a good one, and so ideally we would want a culture that aims to socialize its young toward virtue.

The problem with virtue ethics is that we always do by default. Children will be socialized and taught how to be virtuous according to the culture that surrounds them; it’s just that those virtues will differ from culture to culture. Christian culture encourages the virtues of forgiveness and mercy whereas a Buddhist culture would focus on the serenity required to relinquish attachments. Who we see as our sage determines the virtues toward which we aspire, whether the Buddha or the Christ.

Jesus was known for shunning the marginalized and praising the wealthy, so probably something along those lines

Despite the persistence of religion, these sages of yore are no longer as influential as they once were. You might have been able to guess this by your having previously scoffed at Christian culture being described as forgiving. This is because we have abandoned those cultures, if not in name then at least in practice. Today, our culture is one of capitalism. Our sage is the billionaire.

Perhaps you are unswayed by my assertion. However, people write books about how to become wealthy, encouraging particular behaviours that will surely lead to financial success. There are schemes, podcasts, cults, and conferences. Television has created an entire genre of entertainment where people go to absurd lengths to become wealthy, and fixates on the traits of the winners as the key to their success. Each of these methods demand a certain “type” of person if that person wants to succeed. If you stay poor, it’s because you just didn’t inhabit the virtues of the wealthy.

The subtleties of capitalism

A quick Google search turns up a myriad of numbered lists providing the Top Habits of Billionaires. The wealthy set goals and follow them with single-minded determination; they dream big without fear of failure; they spend their time learning and surrounding themselves with people smarter than they are; they take care of themselves by eating and sleeping right; and finally, of course, they are cautious with their money. One could easily turn this into a list of virtues similar to that of Aristotle. The billionaire sage is focused, driven, prudent, curious, social, and bold. Many of these could even exist in alignment with those of Aristotle.

The thing is, the virtue ethics of the Ancient Greeks was self-fulfilling. Living well is its own reward. Hence why moderation is important, even in our virtue. There is no such restraint within capitalism, however, because the goal isn’t virtue in-itself: it’s money. There is no moderation in the virtues of today because capitalism necessitates infinite growth. The concept of the golden mean is antithetical to the voraciousness of the capitalistic system. Today, one is virtuous for the sake of something outside of virtue, which means that the virtues themselves are only of secondary value. The “Hustle Culture” and “Grind Culture” that have sprung up as the pinnacle of these modern day virtues is toxic for exactly this reason. It is physically and mentally exhausting to live this “good life” because the demands put on us aren’t driven by any idea of a eudaemonia but by what was once considered a cardinal vice: avarice.

“I want golf clubs! I want diamonds! I want a pony so I can ride it twice, get bored, and sell it to make glue!”

The other problem with capitalistic virtue ethics is that they’re a lie. Social mobility has little to do with one’s virtue. The ability to actually improve your financial situation is low, and has been getting worse for decades. Wages are going down, so we’re making less money than our parents. The only place where incomes are rising are for those who are already rich. The decline of unions, the change in technologies, barriers on education… these are the things that are keeping most of us broke, not our personal vices. No matter how early you get up or the number of goals you set, your economic situation probably isn’t going to change all that dramatically.

A society will necessarily create its own virtues. Societies are created by humans, and humans need to know how to behave well to fit in with their neighbours. We will always have virtues, and we will always have sages. However, it is important to observe what those virtues demand of their adherents, or if living like the sage actually allows one to become like them. The modern virtue ethics of capitalism are viciously idolatrous in both regards. The Renaissance was in many ways a return to antiquity to absolve Europe from the hollowness of the medieval period. With capitalism, our virtues are equally hollow. While I am not so nostalgic to demand a return to the Ancients, it is at least clear that our current virtues leave much to be desired.

Part I

Vancouver is Dying starts with a threat to its viewers. You are not safe; every day there is a statistically improbable risk that you will be assaulted by a stranger. The cops have been castrated by woke mandates to avoid overt brutality, and so the city has run amok. There are no consequences to the choices people make, so we mourn the passing of a once great city. The reason for all of this… is drugs. Not poverty; not the civil disenfranchisement of a particular neighbourhood; not the modern cumulation of centuries of colonialism. It’s drugs. Possibly woke-ism too, since the defecator of this trash, Aaron Gunn, literally says that the Left believes opiates are a good thing, but he focuses on drugs as the root of Vancouver’s degeneration. Drugs, we are told, are bad.

Lest we forget!

Despite being the alleged cause of everything evil that’s happening in Vancouver, Gunn doesn’t actually spend all that much time talking about them. What is a drug? Alcohol has been shown to be the most destructive addictive substance, but I guess alcohol is irrelevant to the Downtown Eastside (it’s not). Both sugar and caffeine hit the same dopamine receptors in your brain as crystal meth, but those also don’t count (how many people reading this rely on caffeine to enable their daily functioning?). We can also safely ignore process addictions too, like gambling and video games. When Gunn talks about drugs, he only means the highly unregulated ones, the ones they don’t advertise on TV. Seeing the harms of addiction in a wider context of mass consumerism might lead to… a criticism of capitalism! And we can’t have that.

So of course Gunn avoids that context to the best of his ability. In the few brief interactions he has with active drug users, he asks one what she thinks about addiction. She brushes off the harms that everyone already knows about with street drugs to talk about global addictions, like the equally suicidal addiction humanity has with oil and gas, or the addiction to money in the financial markets, or the addiction to consumer goods we might indulge in after losing our life’s purpose during a midlife crisis. Rather than discuss the threads linking micro and macro addiction, Gunn says, behind her back, that she must be in denial. She didn’t deny that her drug use was harmful; she just wanted to talk about the context as to why all of these problems exist, and Gunn absolutely does not. So he calls her delusional without giving her an opportunity to respond – but who cares; she’s just a supid junkie, right?

Only one of these counts as a person.

According to Gunn, addiction is a silo that only impacts a ‘certain type’ of person, and isn’t connected at all to the culture or global habits surrounding it. So where does it come from? Why do people use drugs? Drugs seem kind of bad, so how come so many Vancouverites… sorry, people specifically in the DTES and nowhere else… how come they do the drugs? Par for the course, Gunn doesn’t really explain. He makes one inference, and expects the viewer to figure it out for themselves.

The closest Gunn comes to explaining where drug use comes from is by talking about the choices that some homeless people make to stay in the street. Our old friend Colonel Quaritch has the unmitigated gall to suggest that it’s easy to get housing in Vancouver (as a social worker, I found this to be particularly offensive), and Gunn doubles down on this by showing that there has been 1,400 new supportive housing built over the past four years, with 350 new ones being built. Of course, those 1,400 are already full (the waitlist for supportive housing is a couple of years), and there are an additional 2,000 homeless people that need help, so his optimism is… misplaced. We can also combine his bullshit with another ignored statistic that about 7,000 housing units are in need of replacement, and we can see that the rumours about the challenge of housing in Vancouver are in fact true. Turns out it is expensive and difficult to find housing in Vancouver! Who could have guessed!?

I will put this in every single one of my blogs from now on if I have to.

Okay that rant was mostly for my own benefit, but let’s return to Gunn. He wants to show that the chaos is a choice – that the option for stability is there for those who want it, but that people live in squalor and disease because… they’re crazy, I guess? A DTES resident tells him that people sometimes choose to live in the streets because of the restrictions in a lot of the supportive housing units, and then that’s enough for him. No point in exploring what those restrictions might be, or what the benefits of the streets might be otherwise, just enough that we have captured a DTES “resident” confirming what we already know. People who use drugs are just completely irrational.

It turns out though, that even people who use drugs are rational in their choices – they are just too often limited in the choices they can make. If a drug user has a choice between using drugs in such a way that it is likely to kill them, or to use drugs in a way that is likely to not, they’re going to choose the way that allows them to avoid death. Rational! Same thing with homelessness. If we talk to people who do choose that lifestyle, they are often fleeing violence that is pervasive in shelters and some SROs, or they want to live in a community of mutual aid amongst their peers without officious oversight. The restrictions that Gunn avoids talking about are typically restrictions on visitors, meaning that your loved ones aren’t allowed to visit. This means you essentially can’t have a partner or children or friends. If I foreshadow a bit that the opposite of addiction is connection, then we can see that these restrictions would actually encourage drug use rather than help eliminate it. It would be rational for someone to choose their loved ones over rat/lice/bedbug/cockroach infested housing, wouldn’t it? Gunn even acknowledges that a lot of the housing is awful, that it’s filled with drug dealers and drug users, but then seems vindicated in degrading homeless people when he’s able to confirm that people don’t want to live there because of that very awfulness. He doesn’t offer a clarion call for better housing in more suburban neighbourhoods where people might escape violence, addiction, and poverty because presumably that would entail the spread of their disease into the ‘purer’ neighbourhoods.

Good miniseries on this very topic!

If people don’t use drugs because they’re just cuckoo-bananapants, then why? It’s a question that should have been at the forefront of anything trying to be a documentary about drugs.

The secret they don’t tell you about drugs is that they’re not actually bad. Drugs are amazing. You’ve likely at least had sugar, caffeine, and alcohol, and most people have a lot of fun with those things! The trouble with drugs isn’t that they’re so amazing that they become addictive, it’s that they’re a problem for those people whose lives are so awful, so that when they do take drugs, their amazing-ness brings them to about normal. Heroin feels like a warm, loving hug; imagine what that must be like for someone who has never felt a secure connection. The first experience of drugs that people who often become addicted is usually, “this must be what everyone else feels like all of the time!”

Addiction typically begins around adolescence when teenagers are supposed to be learning how to cope with complex emotions, and if someone with a lot of complex emotions learns that drugs are an incredibly effective way at dealing with them, that’s how they learn. Just like it’s hard to learn a new language once our first becomes so ingrained into our way of navigating the world, so too is it a challenge to learn a new way to process our emotions once we’ve already established something that works. The physical dependence of drugs can be overcome in a few days, and for drugs like crystal meth, you literally just sleep it off and then you’re done. The psychological dependence, the need to numb yourself from all those accumulated feelings, that’s what causes relapse. You may have heard that an addiction is a behaviour that continues despite negative consequences; well, the negative consequences of not using are often worse. Feeling decades of trauma all at once when the drugs wear off is more often than not still worse than any infected absess. Drugs are not the problem of addiction. It’s just that people with addiction have drugs as their only workable solution to help them cope with what they’re going through, and it’s hard to learn other ways – particularly when drugs work so well and so quickly. Some call addiction a learning disorder rather than a disease for this very reason.

When I was a child, I had a fever. My hands felt just like two balloons. Now I’ve got that feeling once again. I can’t explain, you would not understand; this is not how I am!

Rat Park is an experiment that sought to question the original idea of addiction. We once understood addiction as absolute – a rat was put in a cage, and had two options: a regular water, and water laced with cocaine. Those rats consistently chose the cocaine water until they died. Rat park was an alternative: rats were put in a cage with tubes and balls and other fun rat activities and, most importantly, with other rats. The two water options were the same, but these rats only had the cocaine water every once in a while. The rats lived full and healthy lives, and occasionally got to have wild parties when they opted to go for the cocaine water. Remarkably, rats from the first cage could be put into Rat Park, and they would lose their addiction relatively quickly. To sum up, it’s never been about the drugs, but about the lives of the people who use them.

What if we understand addiction as a response to something rather than the problem itself? Looking at process addictions and less stereotyped substances might become relevant to our thesis. Global patterns that impact culture might contribute to the so-called disease. If we are told to always be consuming more and more to avoid loneliness, grief, to find meaning, then perhaps a comparison to a midlife crisis sports car is actually quite apt, and it is Gunn that is actually the one in denial. What is addiction a response to? If it is getting worse, what is going on in the world that is exacerbating it? I guess if we never ask what addiction or drugs are, then we avoid that pesky subject entirely.

Enough trauma can manifest itself anywhere to produce an addiction, but the most visible problems from it sure do seem to crop up in one particular demographic. I’m sure it’s nothing!

Drugs start out as the rational choice to cope with childhood trauma, to the point where drugs can even save someone from suicide. That becomes their only method of coping, and then they become stuck in that lifestyle even past the point when its consequences start to outweigh its benefits. Ending drug use is only ever really an option if the person has meaningful activities and connection waiting for them on the other side, in an environment stable enough to maintain it. Do police and jail sound like the optimal environment to provide that? Is Gunn right that we should be bullying people into quitting drugs? Or should we recognize that a sober lifestyle just isn’t a reasonable option for a lot of people given their circumstances within capitalism, and do our best to support them in the world they’re stuck with, recognizing and respecting their rational choice in opting to live this way? Perhaps we could make sure that the drugs they take don’t kill them, since they’re human beings still worthy of dignity, perhaps more worthy given the wars they’ve lived through.

Fuck them, says Gunn. They will live and die as he decrees. Join us next time, when Aaron Gunn will try to suggest that having more harm for people who have endured so much already is a good thing actually.

Part III