Thursday, December 15, 2011
Religion, Morality, & Democracy within the United States of America
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Size as a Manifestation of Moral Rightness, Societal Indoctrination in Gulliver's Travels
In Gulliver's adventures to Lilliput and Brobdingnag he encounters wholly different sized people, but manages to become prisoner to both. The Lilliputians are diminutive, but manage to use cooperation and tools to tie him down and later chain him up; the Brobdingnagians only need their monstrous size to detain the now tiny Gulliver. Each race finds some utility in Gulliver's "unique" size, and it becomes interesting to see how each race treats Gulliver, given the power struggle inherent in their size differences. The relationship between Gulliver and each race, cast in comparison to his society back home, reveal the relative morality of each race - which we can ultimately see as satire and social commentary on the state of England at the time Swift wrote the novel.
As a captive of the Lilliputians, Gulliver must be careful to earn their trust in order to gain some freedoms in their society. However once he does so, they use him to attack the two factions that threaten their lifestyle. What's more is that Gulliver is forced to sign articles binding him to their servitude. These are laid out in formal language, ensuring a satirical read as each articles reinforces the difference in size between the Lilliputians and Gulliver and if he wanted to, he could easily ignore or refuse any. The relationship established between the Lilliputians and our traveling protagonist is first established as a physical difference, then highlighted as a societal one. Gulliver agrees to help the Lilliputians attack the harbor of Blefuscu in a nonviolent way; however he refuses to crush their society and reduce their people to servitude. It seems that the minuscule, rope-jumping, egg-cracking people of Lilliput are, despite the sometimes hilarious caricature of this size, are a viscously amoral race.
When Gulliver then travels to Brobdingnag and encounters a race of giants, a wholly different tone of morality takes hold of the novel. Once again, this relationship is born from a difference in size. Physically, Gulliver is to the Brobdingnagians as the Lilliputians were to Gulliver - a clever reflection of part 1 on the behalf of Swift. However, the ethical relationship between them is not exactly the inverse. Gulliver's toy-like dimensions make him a curiosity to the people of Brobdingnag, he becomes a sort of side-show attraction (akin to when he brought back miniature farm animals back to England between these two voyages). When Gulliver enters in discussion with the Emperor of Brobdingnag he offers up the modern invention of gunpowder to please him. This outrages the emperor and he questions why the invention would need a place in society. This confuses Gulliver, as he has been accustomed to its "utility" his whole life. Swift casts the Brobdinnagians as a simple people, but decidedly more ethical then the Lilliputians - at least not nearly as barbaric.
What really stands out to me is the idea of indoctrination set forth by Swift in these adventures. It seems that no matter how much time Gulliver spends with a race of foreign people, they can never meet eye-to-eye (physically, politically, or otherwise). Swift gives numerous examples of how this indoctrination almost literally blinds the people to think and act a certain way, and ignore all other possible alternatives. Reading this book is very much an exercise in opening ones eyes to more possibilities and scrutinizing the traditions of society.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Moral Sense and Tolerance
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Johnson's Morality and Robinson Crusoe
In Johnson’s Rambler No. 4, he argues that books and works of fiction which glorify people with bad morals are teaching people that they should imitate the glorified bad morals. Instead of showing people being rewarded for bad behavior, Johnson thinks that authors of fiction should show bad people being punished and good people being rewarded in order to encourage people to act in a morally good way. We used Fantomina, with its greatly immoral characters who receive very little punishment for their actions, as the sort of book that Johnson was condemning in. On the other hand, I thought that Robinson Crusoe would be a good example of a book that teaches morality in the way that Johnson thought fiction should. In fact, the preface of the book states: “The Story is told with Modesty, with Seriousness, and with a religious Application of Events to the Uses to which wise Men always apply them to the Instruction of others by this Example, and to justify and honour the Wisdom of Providence in all the Variety of our Circumstances.” Clearly, Defoe is conscious of the instructive elements of his fictional work.
One major example of this is the consequences of Crusoe’s decision to go to sea against his father’s wishes. As Brett pointed out in his post, Crusoe constantly questions his decision to leave home, and the turbulent sea changing between story and calm becomes a metaphor for the turmoil going through his head as he sometimes regrets his decision and sometimes embraces it. The story shows Crusoe doing something wrong – being disobedient to his parent – and also the consequences for this wrongful action – mental turmoil, and on a metaphoric level the turbulent sea is also a consequence of his disobedience. Another example of the moral instructiveness is Crusoe’s religious feelings, which help him get through the hardships he goes through. Also, Crusoe’s perseverance in the story allows him to survive. Both of these examples show Crusoe being rewarded for his good behavior.
According to Johnson, this is exactly what fiction should be doing. People who imitate the actions of characters in fictional works they read would not want to imitate Crusoe’s disobedience because of the bad consequences the story shows. They would also want to imitate Crusoe’s religious feelings and his perseverance, because these positive traits yield positive consequences. Whether or not Johnson’s ideas about morality and fiction are relevant, Robinson Crusoe conforms to Johnson’s ideas of what fiction should be.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Grand Theft Chastity
The story of Fantomina by Eliza Haywood is a perfect example of what Swift fears will infest the minds of young people. The lady in the story has no regard for her own integrity or chastity. She doesn’t just lie; she lies in order to get a man to take advantage of her as many times as possible before he looses interest. In the end, neither the lascivious girl nor the womanizing man who has readily fallen for her deceptions are punished at all. The story never denounces the actions of either character and there is no discernible moral at the end. In fact, the only apparent judgment the narrative makes is to describe the “intrigue” as “full of variety.”
Personally, I can’t believe that Haywood’s story was even published at this time and I can see why Swift would be worried about its moral value. I feel like this type of story is equivalent to something like Grand Theft Auto (which I still worry about my younger brother playing) or the movie Scarface—where violence and stealing is glorified. It is definitely kind of scary to think that people use video games to kill animated cops and hookers for fun and that everyone loves to quote Al Pacino’s lines. However, I know that reading Fantomina did not make me want to dress up in different disguises and meet gentlemen, regardless of how clever and ingenious the female protagonist. I also know that no matter how many police cars my brother shoots at in Grand Theft Auto, he will still pull over if caught speeding in real life (hopefully).

(Grand Theft Auto)
Therefore, while Swift is perhaps correct that novels have more sway over our opinions than fairy tales, because “the power of example is so great,” yet I don’t think that he is seeing the bigger picture. The people reading these novels, just like people today, see both good and bad everywhere they look. The mixture of good and evil is what makes the novels believable and verisimilar. If novels (and videogames/TV/movies) praised only the moral and condemned only the wicked, they would be of no more use to us than fairy tales.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Appropriate Action
In his "Self-Denial Not the Essence of Virtue" Franklin breaks down the argument that self-denial is indeed the essence of virtue. He offers situations in which self-denial, as he puts it, would actually bring us closer to vice until we have "no Virtue at all". He corrects the statement to say that self-denial is instead the virtue of merit (or praise), but then immediately breaks that argument down, stating that if one does good simply out of a natural benevolence, then self-denial is not worthy of merit, but rather, as he puts at the end, "he who does a foolish, wicked or indecent Thing, meerly because 'tis contrary to his Inclination...is lunatick". What Franklin argues is that any good action is worthy of equal merit regardless of whether it was done in spite of one's natural inclination or because of it.
I would agree with Franklin that any good act is worthy of praise, but what struck me about Franklin's argument is that it draws comparison to Hutcheson's work as well. That is, it implies that we have the moral sense Hutcheson speaks of. In order know whether or not to act in accordance to or against our "natural inclination" would mean knowing right from wrong. If we know our natural inclination is wrong, we should act against it; if we know it is right, we should act in accordance to it. Regardless of this, I think Franklin makes a convincing argument in saying self-denial is not the essence of virtue, and is not even always the essence of merit.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Adam Smith, Social Scientist
Adam Smith contends, in his The Impartial Spectator, that the only way to examine his own conduct in society is to remove himself entirely and "divide myself, as it were, into two persons, that I, the examiner and judge, represent a different character from that other I, the person whose conduct is examined into and judged of" (281). He claims that the only method to understand our appearance and actions is through the perceptions of others and that a certain anxiety arises in want of knowing. Furthermore that reason, "the inhabitant of the breast, the man within," (286) is the ultimate governance of actions but that this governance can advance only through interaction with others. "The conversation of a friend brings us to a better, that of a stranger to a still better temper" (287). Crafting this belief and formally explicating it seem to be bold and noble deeds Adam Smith accomplishes for his society. He speaks the unspoken rules of society and writes the unwritten law -- material that seems accessible if not somewhat obvious to a modern reader. Do you have to agree with everything he says? No; but you should, at the least, appreciate the unabashed honesty with which Smith presents his claims.
For example, on the topic of our personal beauty and deformity, specifically its self-perception, Smith says: A man who is tolerably handsome will allow you to laugh at any little irregularity in his person; but all such jokes are commonly unsupportable to one who is really deformed (282). At the risk of sounding crude, Smith provides a tangible everyday example to his theories. This allows and encourages application of his social theories. Additionally, it is good to hear an intellectual perspective on the social conventions of the time period. Often my perception of the culture of the time period is skewed because my perspective is limited to the scope of scholarly writings; however, this piece provides wonderful insight (especially in the examples and anecdotes) from an intellectual position. Smith has created inlet to the metaphysical exploration of social relationships.
In this essay, popular economic theorist Adam Smith takes great care to measure the implications of social interaction and perception in his The Impartial Spectator, as he would trade in a treatise on free market economy. He approaches the wholly different subject with the same scrutiny and explores the depths of these social phenomena. At the risk of sounding grandiose, I think that this is one of the most interesting and wonderful effects of the enlightenment. That intellectuals like Smith and Franklin desire so much to understand themselves and their place in the world, they create not only scholarly texts still held in regard today, but also inject an academic insight into the world they inhabited.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Vices and Virtues
Mandeville, in his "The Fable of the Bees", sets up a society of bees who act like men. He describes the bees as being corrupt, and immoral, with lawyers who "kept of Hearings willfully,/ To finger the refreshing Fee" and physicians who "valued Fame and Wealth/ Above the drooping Patient's Health". Mandeville depicts a society in which vice rules, in which it is the worse rather than better nature of man that prevails. However, he later adds "Thus every Part was full of Vice,/ Yet the whole Mass a Paradise". According to Mandeville's fable, it is the faulty faculties of man which indeed fosters progress in society. To further illustrate this point, when the figure of Jove removes all vice from the world, society collapses. All bars close, lawyers are out of jobs--it's hardly the perfect society one would suspect.
According to Mandeville, we need vice to make society run. I would disagree. While there is some truth in what Mandeville says, he goes too far in saying vice is necessary for progress. Sure, the vice of vanity drives competition which in turn allows progress, but there are also those who help simply to help, who want progress not merely for their own gain, but for the benefit of others. To say "Bare Virtue can't make Nations live/ In Splendor" is too extreme. Do we have our flaws? Of course we do. But are we a vice driven society? Some people are, but I would like to have a little more faith in people. Mandeville posits that we are driven by our own ambitions, by our own selfish wants and needs. We are evil creatures and it is in being evil that we are able to take steps forward. I would argue that we are flawed. At times we only think of ourselves, but at times we think of anything but ourselves. It is that mix of selfishness and selflessness that makes us what we are, and what allows us to progress.
Adam Smith and Internet Comment Sections
In Adam Smith’s “The Impartial Spectator,” Smith sets up a system for judging one’s own morality in which individuals must “suppose [them]selves the spectators of [their] own behavior and endeavor to imagine what effect it would, in this light produce upon [them].” In other words, to determine whether your actions are acceptable, imagine someone else is watching you. Smith believed that this concern for the judgments of other people is what gives all of us incentive to be moral in the first place, asking, “What so great misery as to be hated and to know that we deserve to be hated?”
The system of moral reasoning that Smith imagines seems to make anonymity the enemy of moral behavior. If we can be truly anonymous, then we could escape the kind of peer judgment that Smith describes, and thus, be free of the need to behave morally.
This got me thinking about one of my favorite, yet most frustrating, pasttimes: reading Internet comments sections. If you want to quickly lose faith in the decency of humanity, find an article about a controversial issue in society and scroll down to the comments sections. Racism, hatred, and libel abound on these message boards in a way that no other medium can touch. This phenomenon led author Mike Godwin to come up with “Godwin’s Law,” which asserted that as an online discussion grows longer, the probability that a comparison would be made to Hitler or Nazis approaches 100%.
These message boards support Adam Smith’s view of morality. While there were few media in Adam Smith’s day that allowed people to be 100% anonymous, the Internet has done just that, and therefore, no one seems to have an incentive to speak with any sense of moral responsibility. A Facebook official recently came under fire for saying that many of the Internet’s problems would be solved once it was no longer anonymous. I tend to agree.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Naiveties of the Enlightenment
As we discussed in class, at the core of Enlightenment thinking lies the aggressive, unyielding pursuit of advancement. To accept the status quo is to succumb to the societal dogmas that are imposed upon an individual, effectively limiting any potential for future intellectual growth. With freedom, “unassisted human reason, not faith or tradition, was the principal guide to human conduct” (Kramnick xi). Being the cynic that I am, I have come to appreciate the concept of doubting institutions and allowing individuals to formulate their own moral code that Enlightenment thinkers pioneered. However, that same cynicism leads me to question how such brilliant minds could have genuinely had such a naive view of human nature.
How many examples are necessary to show that individuals left to their own will are going to eventually act immorally? Everyone has read The Lord of the Flies. Imagine if you were stranded on an island with a random group of your peers. While there may be a handful of selfless and morally sound characters in the group, without authority anarchy bred of self interest will naturally occur sooner or later. Yet Francis Hutcheson’s view that “human beings have an inner sense – an unerring feeling – of what is proper and true” (Kelleter 81) is considered ‘enlightened’. Perhaps an innate sense of right and wrong exists, but there is no indication that this will generate ethical behavior. Adam Smith’s critique that one will act morally as an “impartial spectator” and examine the causal effects of an action strikes me as equally idealistic. Still, “the Enlightenment valorized the individual and the moral legitimacy of self-interest” (Kramnick 81). Maybe its just me, but self-interest to me seems inherently morally illegitimate. This theory of self determination as the proper method of governance may have been an advancement from the aristocratically imposed subjugation of the masses that preceded the Enlightenment, but many of the discussed ‘advancements’ present clear problems.
Along these lines, the criticism of the Enlightenment that “freedom from external authorities enables the enlightened individual “to find or make a Reason for everything one has a mind to do”” (Kramnick 87) struck me as acutely accurate. This concept succinctly encapsulates my skepticism surrounding the Enlightenment’s questionable belief in the goodness of man. There must be a limit on freedom- some kind of authority to control man’s natural desire to not only advance himself, but advance himself above others as Hobbes described in his state of nature.