This is a note to a recent thread on one of the personal blogs I follow. The enthusiasm conveyed in an answer to my two cents to the original post motivated me to write this note. The author writes in Italian. To make it easier for you to follow I’m going to translate the main thoughts.

At least partially based on some recent setbacks and on events not too far in the future one of the questions raised in the post is why can’t everything be perfect? In my comment, I wrote that I don’t think experiencing a situation to be not perfect, or for that matter perfect, is a reflection of a quality of the situation but, rather, result of nurturing a distance between ourselves and that particular situation. It is our unwillingness to embrace it, rejecting it.

As usual, also this thought isn’t original to my mind and some attribution is in order. It is rooted in Buddhist philosophy or at least I think so based on how I interpret some of the readings. For a pleasant read in plain English I suggest Charlotte Joko Beck [1].

Di cuore auguri a te, a voi, carissima!

[1] Charlotte Joko Beck. Everyday Zen: Love and Work. San Francisco, Harper & Row. (LCCN Permalink)

This problem shows up when I’m generalizing or categorizing. I must admit, I’m at times guilty of it. Not only I sometimes hear others telling me “you are generalizing,” every now and then I here myself telling me just the same, too. I don’t know exactly why, perhaps out of a wish to find order or perhaps out of intellectual laziness as dumb generalization is easy.

That we are mutually different is in the experience of most. (Does this common experience make us similar?) Just take your parents, your set of friends and your ex-lovers. Whether individually, between groups or within groups, it’s hard to see any pair as similar, isn’t it? I believe, there is no doubt that one can count dozens of detailed features in which the people in our direct experience are mutually different. If you combine intellectual, physical, behavioral, spiritual, moral dimensions you end up with a rather large space of diversity. Thus, generalizing on people seems to be counterintuitive.

However, even chaotic systems show hidden order. Is it really so that in this large space of diversity we are all just dots sticking to the corners unfathomably disconnected to each other? It hardly sounds less counterintuitive.

A few thoughts. “All Men are Created Equal” is arguably Thomas Jefferson’s most famous statement. The focus is on creation and the statement has a Christian connotation. Not leveling off all differences between individual women and men the idea seems to suggest that — grounded in a common moral sense — individuals are equally endowed with rights. In [1] Joseph Margolis concludes that the four traditions of thought — science, religion, tragedy and comedy — “agree on the actual and fundamental equality of human beings.” Human empathy, the capability to share another being’s emotions and feelings, does not seem to suggest remoteness but, instead, a large pool of shared experiences for unlikely it is possible for me to share your emotion if I have no experience of it. Finally, it is perhaps in the experience of most to search for similarities in our analytical assessment whether or not a partner might be a “good fit.” (Today, even computer software works on the same assumption that who matches on a large subset of features might get along well.)

Thinking about what situations people, or myself, note that I’m generalizing I wonder if they are associated with arguments, defensiveness, disconnectedness. In a moment flooded by love it typically seems natural to assume two or more individuals share almost their entire self. Perhaps the beauty rests in our ability to distill diversity into shared knowledge to create a tightly coupled web connecting the dots in the corners of a vast space.

[1] Joseph Margolis. That all Men are Created Equal. The Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 52, No. 13 (Jun. 23, 1955), pp. 337-346

I would like to think about respect because, well, in the email I was asked to respect a request. The rationale of my opponent on why I ought to is, in my opinion, based on a misrepresentation of past events. Given the opponent’s apparent unwillingness to find a common reading, I can only rely on how I recall the events — which, for the records, I believe is verifiable — and, thus, I need to assume that the request is based on a flawed rationale. Now, the question is whether a request for respect ought to be respected no matter what, independently of the context.

According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, the focus of contemporary philosophical interest in respect is on “the idea that all persons should be treated with respect simply because they are persons” (Kant’s ethical theory). I cannot disagree with that. For the sake of clarity, the kind of respect relevant here is, I think, Feinberg’s observantia; Hudson’s evaluative respect; Darwall’s recognition respect. Further, the object (to which respect is directed to) is a human being, i.e. my opponent, capable of rational activity, i.e. an end in itself, possessing, thus, a dignity, i.e. objective worth (Kant). I just realize, respect seems to be a respectfully complicated concept.

I like the example of “hostile forces as respecting a cease fire agreement.” I believe, Christmas has been witness of hostile forces magically ceasing fire, without an explicit agreement (I would like to note the compulsory existence of two or more hostile forces respecting). I think, from the article, interesting is,

The idea of [...] giving proper attention to the object which is central to respect often means trying to see the object clearly, as it really is in its own right, and not seeing it solely through the filter of one’s own desires and fears or likes and dislikes. Thus, respecting something contrasts with being oblivious or indifferent to it, ignoring or quickly dismissing it, neglecting or disregarding it, or carelessly or intentionally misidentifying it.

Again, I can only agree — to read on the background of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, 4th movement, it sounds veraciously beautiful. Consider this. “Respect is object-generated [...], something that is owed to [...]. We respect [...] not because we want to but because we recognize that we have to respect it.” Sounds natural, doesn’t it? Though, do you always think of respect with this clarity? I don’t think I do. The delicate part is, I believe, to recognize. I think, my opponent is right; I owe respect, no matter what, independently of the context.

If only respect wouldn’t be, too, “a matter [...] of reflective consideration and judgment.” Notably,

The subject [here myself] judges that the object is due, deserves, or rightfully claims a certain response in virtue of some feature of [...] the object [...]. This feature [...] is the [...] basis in the object, that in virtue of which it calls for respect. The basis gives us a reason to respect the object [...].

And this is, I think, the balance. Respect is owned to the object and recognized as compelling by the subject (the left pan of the balance) provided there exists a feature of the object by virtue of which respect is rightfully claimed (the right pan of the balance).

Here, given the context of calling for respect based on a flawed rationale, there seems to be no feature of the object by virtue of which respect may rightfully be claimed. The balance, once again. What sounds, is, veraciously beautiful is only so to the extent of mutually nurtured respect which, I think, is unmet when past events are twisted such that they fit an argument.