“I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wandering awed about on a splintered wreck I’ve come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty beats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them, under the wind-rent clouds, upstream and down.” (Pilgrim at Tinker Creek)
The story was in Russian and I didn’t know most of the words, but he cried softly at some points, and held on to my arm as if he was afraid I would get up and run, so I understood.
Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics is well-known, and instead of attempting to parse out some intimate detail or conflict, I’m going to try and lay it out briefly, then consider it realistically – for Aristotle himself did not see this as a purely theoretical endeavor. Take caution in reading what I write on Aristotle’s ethics, however; the Nicomachean Ethics was written for those who already have some kind of virtuous disposition, even if not yet fully developed, and one prerequisite for this is having been ‘raised well*.’ I attempted to read the Ethics as something at least partially esoteric (for this demographic of those who were ‘raised well’) but gave up after the first book since it was clearly a useless, misguided effort.
To start his inquiry, Aristotle looks at what is best for human beings; what is the end of being human**? This question isn’t merely theoretical for Aristotle because the point of asking is to uncover how we can better flourish as humans. The highest good for human beings is happiness, or eudaimonia (‘living well’). Why is this the highest good? Happiness is something we do for its own sake, and not as a means to another end. Happiness is not pleasure per se, but Aristotle will allow that pleasure is a good, just not the good; indeed, pleasures often conflict with each other. We seek things like health and money because they help us ‘live well.’ But what ‘good’ does living well consist of, that is, what is the function of being human? The good of being human has to be unique to humans; what separates us from the animals is our rational soul (though we have the animalistic capacities as well, e.g., perception). Therefore it is using reason – the activity of the rational soul – and doing it excellently (which requires virtue), that is, reason and virtue in accordance with one another, that Aristotle identifies as the highest human good.
Virtue itself is not a solitary action, but rather the disposition of a person. One’s disposition is formed by habits, and if our inclinations are virtuous, then these habits have cultivated a disposition to have ‘appropriate feelings.’ There is something of a sliding scale and virtue is always somehow mediate between excess and deficiency, though what the proper mean is between these two extremes is heavily dependent upon the circumstances. There is an appropriate amount of joy or anger or sadness to feel in a situation, but that amount is determined by the context. For this reason, Aristotle insists that it is not possible to lay out universal laws in ethics, there is no ‘decision procedure’ provided by this theory (nor is this possible from any theory, he will hold). This is, of course, a dramatic contrast to Kant’s moral theory in almost every way.
One immediate question we might have, even if we accept that there are no universal laws governing moral decisions/action, is how this can be a comprehensive theory when the idea of a virtuous mean between excess and deficiency does not seem to apply to many cases. Let’s say I’ve walked into a public bathroom and found a lady’s purse on the sink. There is no identification inside, only a few hundred dollars in cash***. It doesn’t seem like my choice of action has anything to do with excess or deficiency: I could just leave the bag, or I could bring it to someone who works in the establishment, or I could leave a note, or I could just take the cash. Do any of these express a kind of excess or deficiency in emotion? Perhaps Aristotle would respond by saying the virtuous agent would decide based on a reasoned, mediate response that is concerned to an appropriate extent with the relevant factors of the situation – how important is it that I take action? What action will be most beneficial to the community?As you might suspect, I remain unsatisfied in this respect.
Another concern we might raise is whether or not one can live a happy life without some of the emotions and characteristics that he specifically describes. Is it possible to be happy and live well**** having never felt fear or anger, or is it entirely necessary that we have felt them, and to be virtuous, felt them to the proper degree? Aristotle claims some amount of wealth and honor are necessary to the virtuous agent, but am I excluded from the possibility of happiness if I have never felt concern for these things? To answer, Aristotle would have show that the emotions he addresses are necessary components of living well, but this is a project he does not take on.
Despite all this, I must admit some strong sympathies with this flavor of moral theory (i.e. that circumstances are crucial in determining the virtuous response, and that virtue seems to lie between excess and deficiency, at least to some extent), though they are sympathies joined with hesitation and doubts. We have now a picture of the virtuous agent: one who acts appropriately in a given situation, and who is disposed to proper emotions as a result of habits and being brought up well. The virtuous agent, having just this quality, must also possess a kind of practical wisdom: “virtue makes the goal right, practical wisdom the things leading to it.” Aristotle devotes a significant portion of the discussion in the later books to practical virtues, and practical wisdom is evidently the ability to properly determine the action(s) that are most appropriate for obtaining the end one is aiming for.
Before I express my doubts at how realistic this ethical vision is, it is worth noting that Aristotle concludes the Nicomachean Ethics by claiming that the life of the philosopher is superior to all others; that is, the life devoted to knowledge or theoria is the best available to human beings. This is slightly surprising, given that such a life is one that is not primarily ethical (the ethical life being a matter of praxis rather than theory). The life of the philosopher is spent learning the causal principles of the universe, and then devoting that life to the exercise of this knowledge. I think it is reasonable to argue that Aristotle is not making a huge departure from his previous discussions, and he assumes that ethical virtues will be necessary to the philosopher even if they are not the ultimate end of such a life. The life second-best to that of a philosopher is that of a politician, who does in fact exercise ethical virtues and practical wisdom as an ultimate end. The political life is defective primarily insofar as it lacks philosophical reflection and understanding.
Given that I understand ethical virtues as Aristotle has described them to be necessary to his vision of living well – both for the philosopher and the politican – I remain skeptical that such a disposition is at all possible or even coherent. It is not clear to me what determines the ‘appropriateness’ of a response to a given situation that requires acting in accordance with the ‘virtuous mean’ between excess and deficiency, other than it is as the virtuous agent would do, which seems highly ambiguous. As noted above, Aristotle is not giving universal principles of morality nor is there some decision-making procedure to be found in the Nicomachean Ethics. We study ethics because this is how we uncover the nature of living well; in order to live ethically, to become a virtuous agent, we have to practice exercising ethical virtues (which are learned, complex skills) so that we become experts in applying our general understanding of what it is to live well in particular circumstances.
Such a life would certainly be demanding on the agent, but I expect any reasonable moral theory would be similar in this respect – becoming virtuous is and ought to be hard work. I am more concerned with the fact that this type of virtuous life, that is, happiness, seems problematic at best or impossible at worst. Say, for the sake of argument, that I was indeed ‘raised well.’ I have spent my years developing habits that give me a kind of temperance and justice, so I both act and feel well; I am able to respond appropriately to ethical dilemmas that arise in my comfortable, well-raised, moderately wealthy, sufficiently honorable life. But now, having these ethical virtues and having gained knowledge of the universe such that I can devote my life to philosophical understanding and activities, I find myself walking down the street when a child comes up begging for money. Maybe I even know that the virtuous thing to do is to give him some money, or to not give him anything, but whatever I do, this action is virtuous. Am I thus happy? Have I achieved happiness because I have lived and consequently acted in this way? Does my wisdom and temperance really mean that as I watch this child scamper away, with my money or without, that I have lived well? If I am living a philosophical life, as Aristotle describes it, and therefore concern myself with theoria, and exercise ethical virtues (though not as an ultimate end), does this mean I turn my eyes from the suffering of the world in favor of contemplating the universe? Does this life, which could have so easily had no difference in the lives of others in the world, achieve happiness? Is this truly a virtuous life?
*I am not sure what this means precisely, but I am sure that I don’t qualify.
**One might say that Aristotle’s first problem comes from this assumption that there is an end or function to ‘being human,’ or at least that there is one that is uniform for all people.
***This actually happened to me. It was at a roadstop on Hwy 1 in California. There was no ID in the purse and only some cash in an envelope with a Chinese bank on it, and a pair of reading glasses. It was a shady place and I didn’t want to leave the bag with the people at the counter, so I left a note with my phone number. Lo and behold, a few hours later I got a call and when I got to San Francisco I mailed the bag down to the lady in LA.
****Virtuous activity = happiness
I am aware I have been careless in using ‘virtue’ here, as Aristotle makes a distinction between intellectual and ethical virtues, and both are important in the Ethics, however, except where obvious by the context (which I think is nowhere), you can assume I am referring to ethical virtues.
My next site after Peru is Estonia, and after some delays and flight changes, I had a long journey from Lima-Toronto-London-Paris, where I spent the weekend with the family (the Italian, the Romanian, the rabbit). It was nice to finally have a camera while in Paris, but especially to have some time with long-lost Luca and Lucian and Marlene. And Luca’s cooking, of course. Not to mention a wonderful brunch with Marguerite! It is wonderful to be away from the Equator because the days here really are so much longer (sun-wise).
From Paris I flew to Helsinki (cheaper than flying to Tallinn) and spent one day seeing the city (thanks Pekko!) before hopping on a ferry to Tallinn and then a bus to Jõhvi, where I am visiting several different places. My guide and guardian angel, Ursula, is an Estonian from Jõhvi who has helped arrange visits for me and is acting as a translator. Today we visited a home and treatment center for youth who have behavioral problems that lead to drug and alcohol addiction. I had a long talk with a psychologist there who happens to share the Estonian version of my name (Airiin) and the director of the program.
I must say, though only here for an afternoon so far, Estonia has by far the best system of care for children at risk of all the places I’ve been. The government runs and pays for the treatment and care of children who need it. Estonia has a not-particularly-unique problem in that children who are neglected or who often need the most help are in these positions because just across the sea in Finland, the jobs pay much more. Men especially are leaving their families to find work elsewhere but failing to provide support for those left behind. Given everything, though, Estonia seems to be handling itself well. I will find out more as I spend time here, thanks to Ursula. We will be visiting an orphanage for children with special needs, an orphanage with a summer camp on the coast, and another orphanage in Sillamäe, as well as various missionary programs (American-funded, though there are no Americans here at the moment).
After my short trip to Olon and a loooong bus ride from (Olon to) Guayaquil to Lima, I arrived in Peru and spent about two weeks in there. (Side note: Peruvian buses > Ecuadorian buses, by far.) I took one short trip to Huacachina but hated it and left after one day. The tourist area of Lima, the Miraflores and Barranco districts especially, are really quite beautiful. It felt a lot safer than Quito and the architecture was stunning, with a lot of hole-in-the-wall places and great views from the cliffs above the beach, although the beach itself is nothing much compared to places further north. Lima is a great city for walking and watching. There were a lot of surfers, but they were all in full-body wet suits.
I went to Lima in search of a few orphanages I had heard about, including a few a bit outside the city that I did not end up having time to visit. One of these was funded by an American-founded organization called Sonrisas en Peru, which takes care of children in a home about 45 minutes from Lima and is sustained by private American and Canadian donations. Within the city, I came across an orphanage in the district of Magdalena, one of five ‘ministries’ founded by a Swiss missionary. She lives with about 10 children and the home is very much in the style of a family. They are also largely supported by foreign donations. Most homes for children in the Lima area are run or significantly supported by foreign missionaries. I also stopped by an HIV/AIDS support center in Lima that cares for children who are orphaned or in need of care due to these diseases. This was a government-run center and had serious financial problems. They were hesitant to give me too much information, and I was not allowed to meet any of the children.
I rarely had my camera with me and I did not take pictures at any of the places I visited in Lima, which I would not have been comfortable doing anyway. I spent a significant amount of time just walking around the city, so there are only a few pictures from when I remembered to bring my camera for that.
After leaving Quito, I made a brief stop on the coast before continuing south to Peru. I am in Olón, a city near Montañita but much less touristy and crowded.
There is an orphanage on the cliff about halfway between Montañita and Olón, Santa Maria del Fiat. I visited and was given a tour, and briefly met some of the children, but they requested I not take pictures inside because it is very much their home. It was almost refreshing to hear this… the home is structured like a family casa, and it would be a bit weird to have a stranger come in and wander around like it’s a tourist attraction. All the children are older – none younger than 6 – and the home has a school on the grounds. The children at this school have a high school graduation rate of 70%, a lot better than the 40% that graduate from high school in Olón. They are starved for money, and one of the caretakers, una tia, who lives there talked at length about the difficulty of raising so many teenage girls and boy in a relatively small space. No adoptions are facilitated by Santa Maria del Fiat. The director is a German nun who I didn’t get the chance to meet, unfortunately; although it is a Catholic institution, they seemed quite laid back, as far as evangelizing the children goes.
This was probably the most idyllic location for an home I’ve ever seen, and probably the first and last time I’ll be at an orphanage in my swimsuit.
Tomorrow I’m off to Peru for awhile. I promise to write about Aristotle and Hobbes soon… when I’m less distracted by paradise.
I went to Chugchilán this past week, to do some hiking and visit some Quechua villages, hoping to get an idea for the care of orphans in rural/indigenous areas as I had done in Uttarakhand in India. It was lovely, though a bit cold and foggy in the later parts of the day. I didn’t meet any orphans, but the villages are insular and children with parents who are dead, sick, in rehabilitation, or otherwise incapacitated, are cared for within the community. Correa, Ecuador’s president, studied in one of the plateau villages I hiked through – so I engaged in some lively and passionate political discussions, too. (Elections were just a few weeks ago.) Unrelated, I’ve been forced to start wearing a watch I got for $2 in Loja’s Terminal Terrestre while waiting for a bus to Cuenca because I lost my phone while hiking in Vilcabamba.
