What Do We Owe One Another?
and
Love and the State
(Part 4 of the essay)
What do we owe one another? (Part 1)
Philosophers distinguish among actions ones that are permissible, obligatory, and supererogatory. (52) If a donut shop has a plate of donuts out and free for the eating, it is morally permissible for me to take one (or not). On the other hand, it is morally impermissible for me to break the glass counter, steal a donut, and run off. I am morally obligated (I have a duty) to not do a donut “smash-and-grab.” As to the word ‘supererogatory,’ it just means going “beyond the call of duty.” It would be a supererogatory action to buy the plate of donuts and give it to a homeless man outside.
Layered on to all this is the familiar distinction between acts of commission and omission. To do a donut “smash-and-grab” would be an act of commission, to fail to stop my son from doing the same would be an act of omission. I have a duty to act in the second case and to not act in the first. (53)
Some philosophers do not believe there are genuinely supererogatory acts. I either have a duty or I do not. Though important, this is not a question that is, for our purposes, critical to answer. (54) The reason is that most people believe and act as if there are actions -- whole classes of action, in fact, like giving to charity -- that are above and beyond the call of duty.
In a fascinating bit of linguistic history, the word ‘supererogation’ came into philosophical usage by way of the Latin Vulgate’s translation of the Parable of the Good Samaritan. (55) Everyone knows the Parable as told by Jesus of Nazareth. The prompt for the story -- in which a man goes to great lengths to save the life of a person from a social group bitterly opposed to his own -- is a question from a religious scholar. The “teacher of the law” asks what he must do to obtain eternal life.
Jesus, drawing from the Torah itself, affirms the archetypal answer: Obey the two supreme commandments, to love God with your whole being and to love your neighbor as yourself. The scholar -- in an act of self-justification -- asks Jesus: “And who is my neighbor?” The Parable is Jesus’ account of neighborliness.
While this story has special relevance for those in the Christian tradition, it is as good a jumping-off point as any to the life-defining question of moral obligation. That is, what do we owe each other? What are our duties with respect to one another? (56) While I am unable to provide here a general account of the sources, reasons, and contexts (social / cultural / historical) for our duties, I can say this with confidence: Few people would deny a maxim as basic as the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. (57) Even fewer would deny the Rule’s “negative” formulation: Don’t do unto others as you would not have them do unto you.
The rub is that, as with many maxims, how to apply the Rule is problematic to say the least. It’s hard enough to figure out what I owe those closest to me: Do I “owe” my children a college education? An aged parent a house next door to me? A neighbor who is ill care for her children? A coworker whose spouse dies dinners for a month?
Things become exponentially harder as we move through our nested and interconnected communities: Should I help rebuild a Gulf Coast community after the latest hurricane? Or sponsor an inner city child’s education? How concerned should I be with where my clothes are made (e.g., sweatshops)? Or the effects of my carbon dioxide on a fishing village in Indonesia? Do I “owe” people in eastern Congo protection from murderous militias? Or those in the Sahel relief from a changing climate?
Who counts as my “neighbor” in a world like ours is thus a fraught question. Anyone who gives a simplistic answer -- I have obligations just to my closest circle or I have obligations to the entire world -- simply isn’t credible. Clearly my duties lie somewhere between these poles. It would appear that my obligations are greatest to family and friends. Yet, again, in a world like ours, choices like the car I drive and the clothes I wear have real, if diffuse, impacts on other people.
The power of a story like the Good Samaritan lies in its ability to shape our moral imaginations. We think we know who falls within our circle. We then see we’ve drawn it far too small. We think we understand reciprocity. We’re then blown away by someone demonstrating a radical solidarity that transcends all “othering.” We seek moral axioms to guide our behavior. We then learn that personal qualities like compassion and empathy often give the best guidance. Above all, such stories remind us that to identify our obligations we must repudiate simplistic answers and engage the complexities of our social worlds.
Interestingly, while the Parable has become a byword for supererogation, this doesn’t seem to match Jesus’ original intent. Again, the question at hand was how to obtain eternal life -- a necessity, one would think. The answer involved being a “neighbor.” That in turn required behavior that we would call supererogatory but which Jesus apparently believed was obligatory. This should be a prompt for conscience, it would seem.
Philosophers distinguish among actions ones that are permissible, obligatory, and supererogatory. (52) If a donut shop has a plate of donuts out and free for the eating, it is morally permissible for me to take one (or not). On the other hand, it is morally impermissible for me to break the glass counter, steal a donut, and run off. I am morally obligated (I have a duty) to not do a donut “smash-and-grab.” As to the word ‘supererogatory,’ it just means going “beyond the call of duty.” It would be a supererogatory action to buy the plate of donuts and give it to a homeless man outside.
Layered on to all this is the familiar distinction between acts of commission and omission. To do a donut “smash-and-grab” would be an act of commission, to fail to stop my son from doing the same would be an act of omission. I have a duty to act in the second case and to not act in the first. (53)
Some philosophers do not believe there are genuinely supererogatory acts. I either have a duty or I do not. Though important, this is not a question that is, for our purposes, critical to answer. (54) The reason is that most people believe and act as if there are actions -- whole classes of action, in fact, like giving to charity -- that are above and beyond the call of duty.
In a fascinating bit of linguistic history, the word ‘supererogation’ came into philosophical usage by way of the Latin Vulgate’s translation of the Parable of the Good Samaritan. (55) Everyone knows the Parable as told by Jesus of Nazareth. The prompt for the story -- in which a man goes to great lengths to save the life of a person from a social group bitterly opposed to his own -- is a question from a religious scholar. The “teacher of the law” asks what he must do to obtain eternal life.
Jesus, drawing from the Torah itself, affirms the archetypal answer: Obey the two supreme commandments, to love God with your whole being and to love your neighbor as yourself. The scholar -- in an act of self-justification -- asks Jesus: “And who is my neighbor?” The Parable is Jesus’ account of neighborliness.
While this story has special relevance for those in the Christian tradition, it is as good a jumping-off point as any to the life-defining question of moral obligation. That is, what do we owe each other? What are our duties with respect to one another? (56) While I am unable to provide here a general account of the sources, reasons, and contexts (social / cultural / historical) for our duties, I can say this with confidence: Few people would deny a maxim as basic as the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. (57) Even fewer would deny the Rule’s “negative” formulation: Don’t do unto others as you would not have them do unto you.
The rub is that, as with many maxims, how to apply the Rule is problematic to say the least. It’s hard enough to figure out what I owe those closest to me: Do I “owe” my children a college education? An aged parent a house next door to me? A neighbor who is ill care for her children? A coworker whose spouse dies dinners for a month?
Things become exponentially harder as we move through our nested and interconnected communities: Should I help rebuild a Gulf Coast community after the latest hurricane? Or sponsor an inner city child’s education? How concerned should I be with where my clothes are made (e.g., sweatshops)? Or the effects of my carbon dioxide on a fishing village in Indonesia? Do I “owe” people in eastern Congo protection from murderous militias? Or those in the Sahel relief from a changing climate?
Who counts as my “neighbor” in a world like ours is thus a fraught question. Anyone who gives a simplistic answer -- I have obligations just to my closest circle or I have obligations to the entire world -- simply isn’t credible. Clearly my duties lie somewhere between these poles. It would appear that my obligations are greatest to family and friends. Yet, again, in a world like ours, choices like the car I drive and the clothes I wear have real, if diffuse, impacts on other people.
The power of a story like the Good Samaritan lies in its ability to shape our moral imaginations. We think we know who falls within our circle. We then see we’ve drawn it far too small. We think we understand reciprocity. We’re then blown away by someone demonstrating a radical solidarity that transcends all “othering.” We seek moral axioms to guide our behavior. We then learn that personal qualities like compassion and empathy often give the best guidance. Above all, such stories remind us that to identify our obligations we must repudiate simplistic answers and engage the complexities of our social worlds.
Interestingly, while the Parable has become a byword for supererogation, this doesn’t seem to match Jesus’ original intent. Again, the question at hand was how to obtain eternal life -- a necessity, one would think. The answer involved being a “neighbor.” That in turn required behavior that we would call supererogatory but which Jesus apparently believed was obligatory. This should be a prompt for conscience, it would seem.
What do we owe one another? (Part 2)
To return to our topic, as I see it, the moral divide between classical and common good (welfare) liberalisms comes down to two questions: What are my personal obligations vis-à-vis others with respect to their freedom, both negative and positive? And, how do these obligations “translate” when shifted from the sphere of individuals to that of society in general as that is governed within a modern, democratic nation-state?
We have already had reason to question the assumption that our “circles of responsibility” are neat and tightly circumscribed. Our lives are all now very much entwined. Moreover, maxims like the Golden Rule and stories like the Good Samaritan should, I believe, push us to “err” on the side of a more expansive sense of our obligations rather than the opposite. Put another way, when deciding whether a putative social obligation is truly obligatory or instead simply supererogatory, we should take the claim that it’s merely supererogatory as bearing the burden of proof.
When cast in the language of freedoms, what does this entail? I have of course a standing obligation to not cause harm, to not violate another’s negative freedoms. But I also have a prima facie obligation to advance their positive freedoms as well. Perhaps we could conceive the former obligation as first-tier, the latter as second-tier (though I’m not sure how to make sense of this exactly). Regardless, such a second-tier obligation is more than merely “nice to do,” more than merely supererogatory. It has a prima facie claim on me. That is, the burden is on me to establish that I don’t have the obligation.
A central issue in all of this is whether it is ever acceptable to regard an individual as less than fully human. A legacy of Modernity is the absolutely pervasive and (I believe) completely pernicious notion that a person’s humanity and her function in society can be -- neatly and without remainder -- separated. That a person doesn’t carry her full humanity around with her, even as she serves as a small component in an enormous bureaucracy or a single citizen in a massive state. That people can be reduced to cogs and Social Security numbers.
What could possibly justify such a separation? Efficiency in the capitalist economy, rational organization of bureaucracies, ease of operation of the state -- these are all valid concerns. But genuine human feeling -- not to mention good philosophy and true religion -- surely presses us to see, foremost, people in their full and splendid humanness. Even when thinking in the cold-but-inevitable logics of cost / benefit analyses and war, acknowledging people qua humans should be paramount.
The upshot must be a strong commitment to mutuality. No one has expressed this more profoundly than Martin Luther King, Jr.
To return to our topic, as I see it, the moral divide between classical and common good (welfare) liberalisms comes down to two questions: What are my personal obligations vis-à-vis others with respect to their freedom, both negative and positive? And, how do these obligations “translate” when shifted from the sphere of individuals to that of society in general as that is governed within a modern, democratic nation-state?
We have already had reason to question the assumption that our “circles of responsibility” are neat and tightly circumscribed. Our lives are all now very much entwined. Moreover, maxims like the Golden Rule and stories like the Good Samaritan should, I believe, push us to “err” on the side of a more expansive sense of our obligations rather than the opposite. Put another way, when deciding whether a putative social obligation is truly obligatory or instead simply supererogatory, we should take the claim that it’s merely supererogatory as bearing the burden of proof.
When cast in the language of freedoms, what does this entail? I have of course a standing obligation to not cause harm, to not violate another’s negative freedoms. But I also have a prima facie obligation to advance their positive freedoms as well. Perhaps we could conceive the former obligation as first-tier, the latter as second-tier (though I’m not sure how to make sense of this exactly). Regardless, such a second-tier obligation is more than merely “nice to do,” more than merely supererogatory. It has a prima facie claim on me. That is, the burden is on me to establish that I don’t have the obligation.
A central issue in all of this is whether it is ever acceptable to regard an individual as less than fully human. A legacy of Modernity is the absolutely pervasive and (I believe) completely pernicious notion that a person’s humanity and her function in society can be -- neatly and without remainder -- separated. That a person doesn’t carry her full humanity around with her, even as she serves as a small component in an enormous bureaucracy or a single citizen in a massive state. That people can be reduced to cogs and Social Security numbers.
What could possibly justify such a separation? Efficiency in the capitalist economy, rational organization of bureaucracies, ease of operation of the state -- these are all valid concerns. But genuine human feeling -- not to mention good philosophy and true religion -- surely presses us to see, foremost, people in their full and splendid humanness. Even when thinking in the cold-but-inevitable logics of cost / benefit analyses and war, acknowledging people qua humans should be paramount.
The upshot must be a strong commitment to mutuality. No one has expressed this more profoundly than Martin Luther King, Jr.
|
In a real sense all life is interrelated. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be... This is the interrelated structure of reality. (58)
|
Words like these from a man like King deserve a serious response; mere lip-service is not enough. Either this is high-flown rhetoric, an ode to our consciences, that is merely inspirational. Or it is a statement of fact. That is how I take it -- as moral fact. And while I have no idea how to “prove” it -- beyond the points made above about community -- I must say that a person whose very bones don’t reverberate with King’s words seems to me somehow morally disabled.
The French have a word for what King is getting at: solidarité. Solidarity -- a deep regard for another, a genuine mutuality -- is quite simply love at the societal level. Indeed, if we refuse to see individuals in the bloodless, functionalist terms of Modernity but insist instead on attesting their full humanity, then we cannot abandon love when we enter the ballot box or pay our taxes.
Put another way, because modern life is lived in terms of nation-states, ‘neighbor’ is coextensive with ‘fellow citizen’ (even ‘fellow world citizen’) and love entails thoughtful concern for everyone -- especially for “the least of these.” (59) This is to say, in the context of Modernity, to love my neighbor as myself entails standing in solidarity with my fellow citizens.
The French have a word for what King is getting at: solidarité. Solidarity -- a deep regard for another, a genuine mutuality -- is quite simply love at the societal level. Indeed, if we refuse to see individuals in the bloodless, functionalist terms of Modernity but insist instead on attesting their full humanity, then we cannot abandon love when we enter the ballot box or pay our taxes.
Put another way, because modern life is lived in terms of nation-states, ‘neighbor’ is coextensive with ‘fellow citizen’ (even ‘fellow world citizen’) and love entails thoughtful concern for everyone -- especially for “the least of these.” (59) This is to say, in the context of Modernity, to love my neighbor as myself entails standing in solidarity with my fellow citizens.
Transmitting Love
The question becomes, then: How is love actually transmitted to our fellow humans in a society constituted like ours? What does solidarity look like? (60) Classical Conservatives stress the importance of family, neighborhoods, local communities, and civil society (clubs, universities, churches, charities, and associations both formal and informal). (61) This is obviously true. As discussed already, these institutions and arrangements have been under enormous strain due to our hyper-individualism. Clearly, important work lies before us in renewing and rebuilding them.
But -- and here lies an essential difference between our two Tribes -- Liberals see an essential role for the state itself in all of this. Ronald Reagan’s quip -- "The nine most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the Government, and I'm here to help” -- sums up the Conservative “small government” mindset very well.
Arguing as to the appropriate size of the state is different (logically, at least) than as to its role or function per se. What Conservatives are actually advocating for is the most minimal state possible. That’s because they see “big government” as a financial / resource vampire, as taking up social space better filled with family and civil society (per above), and, above all, as a standing threat to our liberties. The fury Conservatives direct against “Leftism” is really the emotional reaction caused by such possibilities.
Setting aside the questions of “vampirism” and social space for now (partially addressed later), let’s return again to liberties. If the state is the ultimate source of coercive power in a polity, then for its citizens to be guaranteed their freedoms the state must stand as the ultimate guarantor. Furthermore, if the exercise of the state’s power is justified only insofar as it promotes liberty (as liberalism asserts), then the state is the state in its truest form when it is guaranteeing those freedoms.
For classical liberals (Conservatives), all that’s at stake are our negative freedoms. That is, the state is obligated to exercise its coercive power so as to prevent its citizens from harming one another. (Obviously, the state itself must not harm its citizens.) This minimalist vision is why classical liberalism entails only a “small government,” “night-watchman” state.
On the other hand, welfare liberalism is not only committed to this “negative” vision. It’s also committed to advancing positive freedoms like basic health and well-being, education, and opportunities to earn a living. If such positive freedoms are freedoms indeed, then the state is obligated to exercise its coercive power to guarantee these freedoms. How to “balance” all of these obligations -- not taking too much from the wealthy to help the poor, for example -- is the real trick, of course. But acknowledging the messy tradeoffs of practical policy is one thing; categorically denying a whole class of freedoms is quite another.
The question becomes, then: How is love actually transmitted to our fellow humans in a society constituted like ours? What does solidarity look like? (60) Classical Conservatives stress the importance of family, neighborhoods, local communities, and civil society (clubs, universities, churches, charities, and associations both formal and informal). (61) This is obviously true. As discussed already, these institutions and arrangements have been under enormous strain due to our hyper-individualism. Clearly, important work lies before us in renewing and rebuilding them.
But -- and here lies an essential difference between our two Tribes -- Liberals see an essential role for the state itself in all of this. Ronald Reagan’s quip -- "The nine most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the Government, and I'm here to help” -- sums up the Conservative “small government” mindset very well.
Arguing as to the appropriate size of the state is different (logically, at least) than as to its role or function per se. What Conservatives are actually advocating for is the most minimal state possible. That’s because they see “big government” as a financial / resource vampire, as taking up social space better filled with family and civil society (per above), and, above all, as a standing threat to our liberties. The fury Conservatives direct against “Leftism” is really the emotional reaction caused by such possibilities.
Setting aside the questions of “vampirism” and social space for now (partially addressed later), let’s return again to liberties. If the state is the ultimate source of coercive power in a polity, then for its citizens to be guaranteed their freedoms the state must stand as the ultimate guarantor. Furthermore, if the exercise of the state’s power is justified only insofar as it promotes liberty (as liberalism asserts), then the state is the state in its truest form when it is guaranteeing those freedoms.
For classical liberals (Conservatives), all that’s at stake are our negative freedoms. That is, the state is obligated to exercise its coercive power so as to prevent its citizens from harming one another. (Obviously, the state itself must not harm its citizens.) This minimalist vision is why classical liberalism entails only a “small government,” “night-watchman” state.
On the other hand, welfare liberalism is not only committed to this “negative” vision. It’s also committed to advancing positive freedoms like basic health and well-being, education, and opportunities to earn a living. If such positive freedoms are freedoms indeed, then the state is obligated to exercise its coercive power to guarantee these freedoms. How to “balance” all of these obligations -- not taking too much from the wealthy to help the poor, for example -- is the real trick, of course. But acknowledging the messy tradeoffs of practical policy is one thing; categorically denying a whole class of freedoms is quite another.
On the State
Again, Conservatives have a deep suspicion of the state -- and understandably so. Hobbes called it Leviathan. Followers of Lord Acton worry about “absolute power corrupt[ing] absolutely.” (62) History is littered with illiberal statist governments. Present-day, the Chinese model of illiberal capitalist statism seems in the ascendant.
But America is not China; democratic republics are not autocracies. Indeed, if we are to honor the spirit of the Founders (as evinced not only in the Constitution, itself stitched together out of ugly compromises, but also The Federalist Papers, where creative imagination grappled with thorny political conundrums) the current obsession with Manichaean characterizations about the role of the state in society should cease. It has been incredibly damaging.
The state is not, as “true believer” Socialists would have it, the end-all and be-all for human flourishing. Yet neither is it, as what goes for Conservativism nowadays has it, an absolute scourge, an invasive species that must be remorselessly hacked back. Clearly, it’s something between these. Political wisdom lies in finding the right mix, the right application, for the state for a given issue at a given time. It does not lie in brittle orthodoxies.
For what, after all, is the state? As with “the media,” it is easy to wave toward a nebulous idea rather than pinning the notion down and owning it. There are the obvious formal institutions and practical mechanisms of the state. But the beating heart of a democratic state must be its people. In Lincoln’s words: “[G]overnment of the people, by the people, for the people.” The ultimate power of a democratic state lies in the citizenry itself as expressed through their elected representatives.
Granted, this is as much aspiration as fact in present-day America. Yet it must remain a fundamental hope we fall back on, as we consider our moral obligations toward one another. True, the impact I have on some randomly selected other citizen -- through my vote, my taxes, my following the law -- is mediated by the formal government and thereby drastically attenuated. But that doesn’t lessen the fact of that impact. It’s real. And by exercising another form of love -- civic engagement -- we can work with others in a democracy to effect the practical changes which embody solidarity.
To sum up: I am a common good (welfare) liberal -- and thus am also a political Liberal -- because I believe that my duties toward my “neighbors” include not only guaranteeing their negative freedoms (e.g., protection from theft or bodily harm) but also advancing their positive ones (e.g., basic health and well-being). While some may find the latter to be supererogatory only (akin to charity) I do not.
Furthermore, given that humans are humans even within Modernity, I embrace King’s thesis of “the interrelated structure of reality.” I must therefore draw a fairly large circle as I identify my “neighbors.” This implies, then, a firm commitment to mutuality and thus to solidarity -- the form that love takes at the societal level.
Though I fully agree with the Conservative insight as to the importance of non-state actors in advancing solidarity, I can nevertheless see no a priori reason why the state shouldn’t also play a central role in this. Some things the family and civil society do best (for example, the care of children); some things only the state can effectively manage (for example, reducing wealth inequality).
Moreover, working through the political process to advance others’ positive freedoms -- especially for “the least of these” -- is, to my mind, an important element of living an ethical life and of being a good citizen.
These are then the reasons I am a political Liberal.
Let us turn now to consider potential objections to political Liberalism -- in particular, the risk of Socialism -- in Part 5 of the essay.
Again, Conservatives have a deep suspicion of the state -- and understandably so. Hobbes called it Leviathan. Followers of Lord Acton worry about “absolute power corrupt[ing] absolutely.” (62) History is littered with illiberal statist governments. Present-day, the Chinese model of illiberal capitalist statism seems in the ascendant.
But America is not China; democratic republics are not autocracies. Indeed, if we are to honor the spirit of the Founders (as evinced not only in the Constitution, itself stitched together out of ugly compromises, but also The Federalist Papers, where creative imagination grappled with thorny political conundrums) the current obsession with Manichaean characterizations about the role of the state in society should cease. It has been incredibly damaging.
The state is not, as “true believer” Socialists would have it, the end-all and be-all for human flourishing. Yet neither is it, as what goes for Conservativism nowadays has it, an absolute scourge, an invasive species that must be remorselessly hacked back. Clearly, it’s something between these. Political wisdom lies in finding the right mix, the right application, for the state for a given issue at a given time. It does not lie in brittle orthodoxies.
For what, after all, is the state? As with “the media,” it is easy to wave toward a nebulous idea rather than pinning the notion down and owning it. There are the obvious formal institutions and practical mechanisms of the state. But the beating heart of a democratic state must be its people. In Lincoln’s words: “[G]overnment of the people, by the people, for the people.” The ultimate power of a democratic state lies in the citizenry itself as expressed through their elected representatives.
Granted, this is as much aspiration as fact in present-day America. Yet it must remain a fundamental hope we fall back on, as we consider our moral obligations toward one another. True, the impact I have on some randomly selected other citizen -- through my vote, my taxes, my following the law -- is mediated by the formal government and thereby drastically attenuated. But that doesn’t lessen the fact of that impact. It’s real. And by exercising another form of love -- civic engagement -- we can work with others in a democracy to effect the practical changes which embody solidarity.
To sum up: I am a common good (welfare) liberal -- and thus am also a political Liberal -- because I believe that my duties toward my “neighbors” include not only guaranteeing their negative freedoms (e.g., protection from theft or bodily harm) but also advancing their positive ones (e.g., basic health and well-being). While some may find the latter to be supererogatory only (akin to charity) I do not.
Furthermore, given that humans are humans even within Modernity, I embrace King’s thesis of “the interrelated structure of reality.” I must therefore draw a fairly large circle as I identify my “neighbors.” This implies, then, a firm commitment to mutuality and thus to solidarity -- the form that love takes at the societal level.
Though I fully agree with the Conservative insight as to the importance of non-state actors in advancing solidarity, I can nevertheless see no a priori reason why the state shouldn’t also play a central role in this. Some things the family and civil society do best (for example, the care of children); some things only the state can effectively manage (for example, reducing wealth inequality).
Moreover, working through the political process to advance others’ positive freedoms -- especially for “the least of these” -- is, to my mind, an important element of living an ethical life and of being a good citizen.
These are then the reasons I am a political Liberal.
Let us turn now to consider potential objections to political Liberalism -- in particular, the risk of Socialism -- in Part 5 of the essay.
Footnotes:
(52) Another way to understand permissible and obligatory acts is that permissible ones are morally indifferent and that obligatory acts are ones that are either morally required (it would be an “ethical breach” of omission to fail to do it) or morally prohibited (it would be an “ethical breach” of commission to do it).
(53) The Christian tradition has much to say about “sins of omission,” some of which are relevant to issues of social and economic justice. Saint James tells us: “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them” (4:17). Likewise, he writes: “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead” (2:14-17). Finally, we have the terrifying Parable of the Sheep and the Goats as told by Jesus himself: “Then he [the King on the day of judgment] will say to those on his left [the goats], ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink,I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me’” (Matthew 25:41-44). (All quotations are from the NIV.)
(54) See the entries on “supererogation” in the SEP and CDP. Per the CDP, supererogation can be understood in two ways: “Supererogatory actions are sometimes equated with actions that are morally good in the sense that they are encouraged by morality but not required by it. Sometimes they are equated with morally commendable actions, i.e. actions that indicate a superior moral character.” I take it that the first sense is the more properly philosophical one. It’s what I’m getting at in the essay, in any event.
(55) Specifically the part at the end where the Samaritan says he’ll reimburse the innkeeper for any extra expenses incurred in taking care of the Jewish traveler. I owe this observation to the SEP. (The Parable is given in Luke’s Gospel 10:25-37.)
(56) We also have duties to ourselves of course. Those are not my focus here.
(57) The “positive” formulation is given by Jesus in Matthew 7:12 and Luke 6:31. These are restatements of the “second greatest” commandment referenced by Jesus and the teacher of the Law, just above. That was itself originally given in the Book of Leviticus (19:18).
(58) I have been unable to find the direct source of these famous words. They seem to be an amalgam of text from Letter from a Birmingham Jail and a commencement address given at Oberlin College in June 1965, entitled “Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution.” See the former document here: https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html. The latter may be found here: https://www2.oberlin.edu/external/EOG/BlackHistoryMonth/MLK/CommAddress.html.
(59) This is how Jesus described the hungry, unclothed, weak, and poor in the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats. (Matthew 25:31-46)
(60) A point I will render as a footnote as it is not directly relevant to our overall flow is this:
(61) The phrase ‘civil society’ may be used in slightly different ways. However, a good idea of what it connotes in practice may be ascertained by overlapping, as it were, the following descriptions:
(62) I actually attended a weekend retreat by the Acton Institute (www.acton.org/) some years ago.
Images:
"The good Samaritan (after Delacroix)," by Vincent van Gogh.
Public domain. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vincent_Willem_van_Gogh_022.jpg
"Abernathy Children on front line leading the SELMA TO MONTGOMERY MARCH for the RIGHT TO VOTE."
Abernathy Family, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
ttps://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/af/Abernathy_Children_on_front_line_leading_the_SELMA_TO_MONTGOMERY_MARCH_for_the_RIGHT_TO_VOTE.JPG
The white man in the photo is Rev. James Reeb. He was beaten to death by white segregationists soon after this photo was taken. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Reeb) Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his wife are in the center of the photo. Dr. Ralph David Abernathy and his three children are at the right and center.
"Transmission Lines." Image by analogicus from Pixabay.
https://pixabay.com/photos/fog-landscape-current-power-poles-4666170/
"Caryatids." Image by Panagiotis Lianos from Pixabay.
https://pixabay.com/photos/caryatids-athens-parthenon-4476073/
(These caryatids are part of the Parthenon in Athens, Greece.)
Original 1/1/21.
(52) Another way to understand permissible and obligatory acts is that permissible ones are morally indifferent and that obligatory acts are ones that are either morally required (it would be an “ethical breach” of omission to fail to do it) or morally prohibited (it would be an “ethical breach” of commission to do it).
(53) The Christian tradition has much to say about “sins of omission,” some of which are relevant to issues of social and economic justice. Saint James tells us: “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them” (4:17). Likewise, he writes: “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead” (2:14-17). Finally, we have the terrifying Parable of the Sheep and the Goats as told by Jesus himself: “Then he [the King on the day of judgment] will say to those on his left [the goats], ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink,I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me’” (Matthew 25:41-44). (All quotations are from the NIV.)
(54) See the entries on “supererogation” in the SEP and CDP. Per the CDP, supererogation can be understood in two ways: “Supererogatory actions are sometimes equated with actions that are morally good in the sense that they are encouraged by morality but not required by it. Sometimes they are equated with morally commendable actions, i.e. actions that indicate a superior moral character.” I take it that the first sense is the more properly philosophical one. It’s what I’m getting at in the essay, in any event.
(55) Specifically the part at the end where the Samaritan says he’ll reimburse the innkeeper for any extra expenses incurred in taking care of the Jewish traveler. I owe this observation to the SEP. (The Parable is given in Luke’s Gospel 10:25-37.)
(56) We also have duties to ourselves of course. Those are not my focus here.
(57) The “positive” formulation is given by Jesus in Matthew 7:12 and Luke 6:31. These are restatements of the “second greatest” commandment referenced by Jesus and the teacher of the Law, just above. That was itself originally given in the Book of Leviticus (19:18).
(58) I have been unable to find the direct source of these famous words. They seem to be an amalgam of text from Letter from a Birmingham Jail and a commencement address given at Oberlin College in June 1965, entitled “Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution.” See the former document here: https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html. The latter may be found here: https://www2.oberlin.edu/external/EOG/BlackHistoryMonth/MLK/CommAddress.html.
(59) This is how Jesus described the hungry, unclothed, weak, and poor in the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats. (Matthew 25:31-46)
(60) A point I will render as a footnote as it is not directly relevant to our overall flow is this:
- Less than twenty years ago a person (or group of people) who sought to transmit the idea of his regard or disregard for a fellow citizen in a “mass” way would have had to do so through traditional media like books, pamphlets, newsletters, emails, or (if they had the means) radio or TV.
- Social media has utterly upended this. It provides the terrifying capacity to communicate regard or disregard to others -- literally, millions of others -- in an instant. We can club together in our loving and loathing in groups of ever-increasing homogeneity, a process driven by algorithms designed to reinforce our prejudices. (We can of course mobilize not only ideas but also concrete actions against our opponents.)
- The old media actually mediated among us. Now there is a free-for-all. No doubt there is some good that comes from social media, though it’s hard to see it as a net gain to our shared life. It’s also a fact that once a technological genie comes out of its bottle and begins creating vast sums for shareholders, it’s foolish to think it will ever go back in.
- Still, the damage done by social media is immense. We’re only just now grasping the risks, let alone determining how to manage them. “Love for neighbor” in social media may mean not using it -- or at least being quite careful about our behavior there. “First, do no harm.”
- A scholar who is doing excellent work on this topic is Siva Vaidhyanathan. See his book Antisocial Media: How Facebook Disconnects Us and Undermines Democracy, as well as his many articles.
(61) The phrase ‘civil society’ may be used in slightly different ways. However, a good idea of what it connotes in practice may be ascertained by overlapping, as it were, the following descriptions:
- From Google Dictionary: “Society considered as a community of citizens linked by common interests and collective activity.”
- From the World Health Organization’s website: “Civil society refers to the space for collective action around shared interests, purposes and values, generally distinct from government and commercial for-profit actors. Civil society includes charities, development NGOs, community groups, women's organizations, faith-based organizations, professional associations, trade unions, social movements, coalitions and advocacy groups. However civil society is not homogeneous and the boundaries between civil society and government or civil society and commercial actors can be blurred. There is certainly no one 'civil society' view, and civil society actors need to contend with similar issues of representativeness and legitimacy as those of other representatives and advocates.” (https://www.who.int/social_determinants/themes/civilsociety/en/)
- The UN calls it the “‘third sector’ of society, along with government and business. It comprises civil society organizations and non-governmental organizations.” (https://www.un.org/en/sections/resources-different-audiences/civil-society/index.html)
(62) I actually attended a weekend retreat by the Acton Institute (www.acton.org/) some years ago.
Images:
"The good Samaritan (after Delacroix)," by Vincent van Gogh.
Public domain. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vincent_Willem_van_Gogh_022.jpg
"Abernathy Children on front line leading the SELMA TO MONTGOMERY MARCH for the RIGHT TO VOTE."
Abernathy Family, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
ttps://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/af/Abernathy_Children_on_front_line_leading_the_SELMA_TO_MONTGOMERY_MARCH_for_the_RIGHT_TO_VOTE.JPG
The white man in the photo is Rev. James Reeb. He was beaten to death by white segregationists soon after this photo was taken. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Reeb) Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his wife are in the center of the photo. Dr. Ralph David Abernathy and his three children are at the right and center.
"Transmission Lines." Image by analogicus from Pixabay.
https://pixabay.com/photos/fog-landscape-current-power-poles-4666170/
"Caryatids." Image by Panagiotis Lianos from Pixabay.
https://pixabay.com/photos/caryatids-athens-parthenon-4476073/
(These caryatids are part of the Parthenon in Athens, Greece.)
Original 1/1/21.