Victims of circumstance
I was listening to music with my playlist on random the other day and an old song I haven’t heard in a while came up. “I’ve never been to me” by Charlene (its a good one, go get it). Its about life, regrets, mistakes, wisdom gained and the singer/narrator beseeching the listener to avoid the degenerate path she’s taken.
But that got me thinking: to what extent can we control the decisions we make in our lives anyway? It sounds like an awfully stupid question but the older I get the more I feel that our lives and actions are much more deterministic than we’re willing to give credit for. We humans beings are more emotional than we are rational. We’re creatures of hierarchy and social law rather than creatures of independence.
Picture the scenario of a girl who, against all reason, refuses to leave her cheating boyfriend. Or a disgraced samurai who needs to commit seppuku. Or an eager teenager surrounded by friends at a club imploring him to take his first hit of cocaine. In each of these cases, there’s the “right” thing to do, and then there’s the actual thing they somehow or another have to do, given the circumstances.
A rare few choose the “right” thing (sometimes, I wonder if we applaud those who do because it reinforces our illusion of free will) - But that belies the fact that most don’t. The hapless girlfriend goes back to her douche boyfriend, the samurai cuts into his intestines with his katana, and the teenager becomes high on crack for the first time. How much of a choice do they have, really? Its not just about being smart, being wise, or being brave. Sometimes, its more complicated than that.
David,
Concerning why people do the things they do, it isn’t always about what is the right thing to do, but more so, what would satiate the gnawing emptiness inside, what gives that sense of belonging and fulfillment.
Here’s another point: Samurais don’t use a Katana to commit Seppuku; they use a tanto =)
Bruno.
Good call on the tanto. I knew that!
David
Bruno may be right about that, but I should point out there isn’t necessarily a contradiction between the “right” thing to do and what gives a sense of belonging and fulfillment. The same act might give both.
However, even on this account, I have difficulty understanding the girl who stays with her horrible boyfriend because that makes her feel content and fulfilled.
I think the zen buddhist perspective would be that the girl goes back to her douche boyfriend because her subconcious but dominant ego (as defined by buddhist and not freudian terms) enjoys the drama and the whole affair makes her feel more “alive”, and thus fulfilled. I sense some truth to that.
David
Colin,
In reading what you wrote, the term ‘ersatz’ comes to mind.
Here’s why: using the analogy of hunger, suppose I were hungry and the ‘right’ thing to do would be to whisk my ass off to MASA (I’d be so broke after the meal! haha!), but I instead opt for the ‘wrong’ thing to do, which is to sate my hunger with some Krispy Kreme; this indeed does solve the two issues we discussed, 1) fulfillment in that I’m no longer hungry, and 2) belonging in that I know I’ve just joined the great fraternity of those weak for a good hit of Krispy Kreme; however in choosing to do the ‘wrong’ thing, I’ve opted for what only satisfies me for the moment (my hunger), but does not give me the true cause for my desire (my body’s need for nutrition), which is why it won’t be long before I am hungry again, hence the term ‘ersatz’ - the ‘wrong’ thing to do giving me at best only a pale imitation of something authentic and therefore always leaves me wanting.
As for this point of yours, “I have difficulty understanding the girl who stays with her horrible boyfriend because that makes her feel content and fulfilled”, I feel that the element of fear must be factored in: in keeping with the adage, “bad love is better than no love at all”, the girl chooses to stay with her boyfriend inspite of the abuse she suffers because she fears she won’t find someone who will want her (the psyche of the victimized), and because “a bird in hand is better than two in the bush,” she choose to stay with her abusive (douche, as David would say) boyfriend and this gives her, again, an ‘ersatz’ feeling of being content and fulfilled (she believes that’s all she’s ever good for, that’s as good as it gets). This reasoning also makes moot David’s reference to the enjoyment of the drama and the whole affair that makes our girl in question feel more “alive”, and thus fulfilled.
Do my points stand to reason, Colin? What do you think, David?
Bruno.
For a moment, Bruno, I thought you were referring to my reasoning as ersatz, which was somewhat worrying. But no, I see what you mean, and while I don’t completely disagree, I’d also like to point out a few things.
I think your hunger analogy works very well, but again, as a matter of language, most people would find it difficult to say that an abused girlfriend would be “content and fulfilled” in her situation. You equate this to a belief that “that’s all she’s ever good for, that’s as good as it gets”, but I would have thought that an apt description of resignation, rather than contentment, which is surely a different thing.
Also, how would you account for regret? Does it make a difference if the abused girlfriend constantly regrets her decision, or is that a natural consequence arising from the ersatz nature of her choice?
Colin,
Is being ‘content’ and being ‘resigned’ mutually exclusive? Can one not become or learn to be content in their resignation (there are sayings like, “set your sights a little lower and you’d be a whole lot happier”, or, “it’s best not to dream big, be content with your lot” and other permutations of the same)? You said rightly in that it is truly is a matter of language now, and not of the quality of we are trying to describe (the resignation of the girl in question).
Concerning regret, simply put, have you not heard of the adage “to choose the lesser of the two evils?”? Surely the regret the girl in our discussion experiences pales in comparison (to her mind) with the greater regret she believes she will likely encounter should she leave the ‘comfort’ of all that she’s grown accustomed to?
Ultimately I believe it is this: the psyche of the victim is defined by the harrows of their experience, and in thinking that there’s no point fighting what “is their lot” they become resigned to the fate of their supposition and have come to be conditioned to be content with their state, consoling themselves that this small regret of what could be is infinitely preferable to the greater regret of the allegory of the cave which Plato well employed to portray the perversion in always having what you truly desired elude you, always just beyond your grasp. And, however it came about in her decision making procession, I believe all she then experiences is consequent to the ersatz nature of her choices; because, whilst she could have made the best decision she knew to make, I contend these points: 1) given her emotional and psychological state, she was not in the best disposition to make a quality choice; 2) she was not informed of the true scope of choices she had from which to choose; and 3) she lacked the resolve to see the final future outcome of her in situ decision.
What do you make of what I said, Colin? And hey, if you’re gonna be in New York over the summer, furnish me with the dates you’d be here; I’d see if I can pencil you into my schedule and take you around town. If it’s your first foray into the Big Apple, I’d be sure to make it truly memorable. Haha! =)
Bruno
David seems to have been strangely silent throughout this exchange.
While I recognise that in some circumstances there may be a fine line between the two, I do think there is a qualitative difference between contentment, which is underlined by happiness, and resignation, which is underlined by unhappiness. One is “content with one’s lot” when one is satisfied/happy with one’s situation, even if one can do better; whereas one is “resigned to one’s fate” when one is dissatisfied/unhappy with one’s situation, because one can do better. I also think this qualitative difference is reflected in the different language we use; we’re not merely using different words to describe the same thing.
I think my point about regret did not come across well, but I see what you’re saying.
What I find intriguing, though, is that the three points you’ve stated do not seem very far from the spirit, or perhaps even the letter, of David’s original post, since he is arguing for precisely a lack of control regarding individual choices. Except you go further in arguing that despite her ‘non-quality choice’, her constrained scope of choices and her inability to see the final future outcome, she is nonetheless content with her choice, though this is necessarily an ‘ersatz’ contentment.
As you rightly point out, the contentment that is felt is artificial, arising as a result of the artificial choice she has made. If this is the case, this implies that there would be ‘real’ contentment if she had made a ‘real’ choice (one which was unconstrained, made with proper information etc). Again, this is not so different from David’s idea of the ‘right thing to do’.
I’ll be in New York for a week from 26th July. It’s not my first time, but I didn’t have enough time for a proper visit on my previous trip, so I’ll have to make up for it!
David has been busy with his favorite pastime, underwater basket weaving, which explains his lack of input into this discussion.
Anyways, with regards to cheating boyfriend scenario I think there’s been a slight misunderstanding of what I meant by “drama”, Bruno. “Drama” in this case doesn’t refer to the reality TV-isque histrionics we usually associate with the term. I was going by the Buddhist definition of “drama” (hence the disqualifier), which is more nuanced in that Buddhists see it as something that’s intertwined with one’s dysfunctional indentity of him or herself (known as the “ego”), and the unconscious need to perpetuate its existence, even if the experience itself is painful. Again, this isn’t a concept I can articulate in a few paragraphs, but if you’re interested in finding out more I recommend “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle, which is an excellent introduction to the Buddhist view on human relations/enlightenment etc.
I see where’s your coming from by the “bad love is better than no love at all” argument, and I wholeheartedly agree with it. The ego-drama thing is another layer on top of it all that most people probably aren’t aware of.
Colin,
I didn’t feel the need to differentiate my points from David’s; it was simply my intention to clarify. I enjoy the intellectual rigor (what little I’m able to muster at 2am in the morning, anyways) to the whole process because it has always been my keen desire, in all that I do, to understand. I do find affinity with Socrates in this respect concerning the unexamined life.
May I also add that where we use the term ‘real’ (ie: ‘real choice’), what we’re truly referring to is a Truthful choice, one that honors the integrity of her life and all that is numinous, one that brings with it all its commensurate rewards. A useful analogy would be thus: though there is great contention over the whys and wherefores of the human experience, there are laws that have been woven into the very fabric of our experience, which, if we choose to honor and abide by them, would imbue our lives with great success, meaning, and beauty. For example, though I may not believe in the Law of Gravity, my disbelief in that Law does not in anyway mitigate its effects on me should I so choose to walk off the edge a cliff; however, even if I were to be cognizant of the limitations and potential the value of the Law of Gravity has vested into my human experience, should I not strive to attain a higher understanding of what is True of my experience, I would always be bound to the mere rudiments of the human experience. Here’s what I mean: though there is the Law of Gravity, there is also, Bernoulli’s Principle, which, essentially, is the Law of Lift, one that supersedes the baser Law of Gravity, one that allows me to fly. Whilst the baser, more rudimentary, Law of Gravity governs me all the time, should I come to understanding of, and the eventual harnessing of, the Law of Lift, I will be freed from the constrains of the Law of Gravity so long as I’m under the liberty, as it were, of the Law of Lift. And this understanding of the Truthfulness of our experience does not come without considerable searching (think of the great passage of time and all the sacrifices that had to be made by humankind before the Wright Brothers were immortalized for having discerned a higher understanding/principle to what was previously unobserved but nonetheless True of the human experience). This principle is true of Life as well. Far too many people are merely existing in the ennui that is the blank solipsism of days, and not truly living out their lives in a meaningful, fulfilling way. Bound as they are by the rudiments of Life, few grope for the liberating Truth that truly is theirs to know, fewer still, have the courage of their convictions to live it out. I believe that what is True is attainable to all, for what is True will be woven into all there is to this human experience we find ourselves in (like how PI, no matter which civilization or era you live in, your intellect or your status quo, will always be 22 divided by 7).
Colin, the contention David and I are examining hits closer home to what is True of our collective experience - we’re not arguing mere semantics. That’s why a differential, and not a different argument, was what I put forth.
Perhaps, as a means of summation, the quiddity of it all is simply this: though, with what little intelligence and creativity I have, I should be able to get away with many things, it’s not about being able to get away with things that I’m all absorbed by, but rather, it’s always been the question of just who I want to be that so wholly engages me. And it is precisely this question that enables me to, when the time comes, choose not what is “right,” or what is “wrong”, but more importantly, what is noble - what appeals to something higher in us, in all that is True of the human condition, this wonderful thing called Life…
Bruno