WARNING
[sub]THIS IS A POLITICAL THREAD. WHILE IT MAY SEEM AT TIMES THAT I AM WITNESSING, AND AT OTHER TIMES THAT I AM EITHER SERMONIZING, PROSELYTIZING OR SUPER-SIZING, I AM MERELY ATTEMPTING TO EXPLAIN AND JUSTIFY MY POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY. MY OPINIONS ARE INFORMED ONLY TO THE EXTENT THAT I HAVE BASED THEM ON MY PERSONAL OBSERVATIONS AND INVESTIGATIONS. YMMV.
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(My apologies to anyone who actually looked for this thread last weekend. -Admittedly that would only have been one or two people, but apologies nonetheless.)
I frequently find myself, in Great Debates, defending the liberal idea of social improvement through government action. Typically, I’m told by conservatives that a “tax and spend” philosophy of government takes money out of the hands of hard-working Americans, or that “government give-away” programs promote sloth and immorality. I’m told by libertarians that taxation is theft and that government regulation of the practices of Peaceful, Honest People deprives those people of their “natural” rights.
Many of the criticisms I’ve read attack bleeding heart liberals of my ilk as being weak minded, or as intellectuals who are out of touch with the real world. These types of criticisms can be dealt with fairly easily by demonstrating the opposite in my own answers, and by providing enough contrary examples as to cast doubt on the assertions. However, many other times it’s the ethics and morality of liberalism that are under attack. The most common ethical violation cited by libertarians is coercion of citizens, either through taxation or through regulation. The most common failings found in liberals by conservative pundits are irresponsibility and authoritarianism.
So in order to justify the ethics of liberalism as I try and apply it, I find myself continually evaluating those ethics in respect to morality, and comparing the known effects of liberalism with those consequences my morality would have me desire. This thread, then, must examine my ethical and moral convictions if I’m to adequately justify my politics. That means I’ll have to perpetrate a brief autobiographical accounting in order to explain the critical foundation of my interpersonal ethics. Since this accounting is going to make the OP a long one, I’ll split my submission into three parts, ending this first post with the account of how I found my own ethical prime mover. Post # 2 will deal with my moral and ethical conclusions and the philosophies (personal and political) I derive from those conclusions. Part 3 will frame liberalism in the context of political ethics, and will submit the points I offer up for discussion and debate.
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(xeno’s journey of moral discovery.)
I was born into a Catholic family (by which I mean my mother was a Catholic and my father was ambivalent), but we were never regular churchgoers, and the moral lessons of my childhood rarely took the form of catechisms or religious tutelage. I was raised on science fiction and rationalism. By the time I was 12, the writings of Arthur Clarke and Isaac Asimov had kicked in and I became an agnostic; later I called myself an atheist. In the callow arrogance of youth, I was convinced that all moral codes were cynically imposed by authority in order to control the meek or the uneducated. I thought the only true morality was that which allowed human survival, but that “artificial” moral concerns such as kindness and charity were necessary for human contentment. I believed the vast portion of humanity were just too dull witted to free themselves of the constraints of religion.
As I grew older, of course, I began to have the errors in my thinking illustrated for me in forceful and sometimes dramatic ways. By the end of my teen years, I had learned that the sense of right and wrong my mother had instilled in me was not just a construct of her religion, nor an acknowledgment of social niceties. I observed, to my great surprise, much evidence that morality was imposed upon “authority” by society as a whole (rather than the reverse), and that actual moral beliefs frequently seemed to differ from expressed religious tenets, even among persons faithful to a particular religion. Further, I was beginning to discover that individual choice played a much smaller role in building moral beliefs than I had believed, and “written authority” had even less influence.
Although I understand now that each individual has full choice in how they choose to act within a moral context, in how they frame their own moral beliefs, and in the ethics they choose to follow or to ignore, I stewed over the imposition (as I saw it) of the fundamental code. I felt that this societal programming was just as bad, or worse, than the enforcement of morality through religious or political authority, even though I largely agreed on an objective basis with most of that programming! Not only did I fail to appreciate the awesome importance of society as the only context in which individualism can occur, it never occurred to me that morality itself is meaningless outside of a social or religious context.
In my youthful search for a moral meaning to life, I found a general tendency among people, whether they were introspective or completely self-oblivious, to rationalize their behavior so as to make it seem consistent with their moral convictions, even when the behavior was patently contrary to their beliefs. I especially recognized that tendency toward rationalization in myself, despite those original moral lessons of my childhood. This recognition led me, inevitably, to a lengthy period of emotional jaundice, during which I tended toward either heavy-handed self-aggrandizement or self-loathing. My confusion was only heightened by my acquaintanceship with individuals who appeared to eschew moral rationalization and to unwaveringly hold to ethical courses of action. And these people were not nearly as rare as I had assumed before I began actively looking for them. Although I admired these people, I felt I was not like them, and that knowledge began to leech away my moral confidence. I stayed in this sorry state well into my mid twenties.
Until I had the one great epiphany of my life. It was, in comparison to other epiphanies I’ve heard about, a fairly obvious and seemingly mundane realization, but it hit me hard and made an immediate difference in my life. It was not a sea change in my moral attitudes, nor in my perception of other people. No, I was far too self involved at the time to have any lightning-stroke insights concerning the rest of the universe; my vision was directed inward. As I sat one day wallowing in self-pity over the myriad failures I found in myself, I cynically thought “I’m exactly the sort of person I want to be.” Now, I’d had such musings before; had even said very similar things to others, but this time the words fairly rang in my head, and as I repeated the thought I felt a kind of itchiness in the back of my mind. I looked up from the book I had been staring at (not really reading, but sort of skimming to give my eyes something to do while I pondered life), and as I focused on the clock above the table, my entire perspective changed between one second and the next.
My startling insight? The earthshaking profundity which shifted my mental axes?
Act Like You Wanna Be