Detachement and engagement
According to many eastern and some western ancient philosophies, we should detach ourselves from the joys and sorrows of the world, so as to become free and happy. As a means to this end, we should use spiritual excercises that may involve imagining a mythological world of beauty and goodness, or may be focused on simple things in the present like breath and body awareness. Attachement to worldly things, on these views, brings only frustration and unhappiness.
Detachement need not mean distancing oneself completely from worldly affairs. It may serve to make one more potent in such affairs, because one is less distracted by ones own needs. Spiritual leaders such as the Dalai Lama are detached from simle pleasures and pains but very much engaged with the world and it's inhabitants, being more focused on this egangement because of their general detachement.
To a large extent, I agree with this philosophy, the path of detachement. Certainly we waste a lot of time focusing on petty pains and pleasures, at the expense of more ambitious projects that are generally both more meaningful for ourselves and contribute more to others. At the same time, however, detachement seems to distance us from certain kinds of engagements with the world that have great value.
Following the path of detachment is to control one's emotions, to train oneself not to react with strong feelings whatever happens, to assume an enligthened indifference to ones fortune and circumstance. But strong feelings are beautiful and part of what makes life worth living! To be immersed in the world is to live life to it's fullest, to love and laugh and lose and lament. The detachement camp would argue that on the other side of freeing oneself from attachment there is a higher joy, a less clouded engagement, more intense versions of all positive experiences. But such "enligthened" experiences seem to lack something, if only the sheer lack of detachment, lack of distance, to the world, a directness that seems to me to have a special quality. I do not doubt that masters of detachment feel joy and love, but I wonder if they can be as absorbed by it, and I suspect that their spectrum of feelings is rather narrow. And this seems somehow dull.
Another way to approach the matter is to look at motivation. It says in the Bagavad Gita (2.47) that "You have a right to your actions, but never to your action's fruits" (in Stephen Mitchells translation). Detachment from the consequnences of one's actions is clearly one of the main themes of that work, as has been recognized by many. Zeno and the stoics seem to have a very similar idea - that you should identify only with your actions and not with their consequences, nor with the circumstance in which you act. The point of this attitude is to avoid the distress of not reaching what we aim for.
However, our life projects centrally involve effects on the world. We aim to contribute to society, create art, help others, improve ourselves or our position, change the world. These are consequences. If we make ourselves indifferent to consequences we cannot have life projects like these. But how then can we truly value art, peace, or self-development? It seems that if we aim only or mainly to escape distress, then lack of distress is our highest value. This seem uninspiring. (On a more psychological note, it seems that we might be less likely to succeed in reaching a certain goal if our aim is only to do our best, rather than to succeed.)
Detached engagement can be beautiful to see, but from a personal perspective, it seems to be barren somehow. I think that a large dose of detachement would be good for me and for most people, but I don't think I would want to take it to the extreme. There may be a balance to be struck so that one can be detached (and engaged) a lot of the time but now and then gore in undetached engagement.
Is there anything to be said for Monogamy? (new ed)
Two persons meet, they like each other, spend time, talk about life, play badminton, have sex, go to the movies, go traveling. If they like each other a lot they will spend a lot of time together, doing the things they like. Maybe they will start more long-term projects and adjust their lives to suit the other person. Maybe they will want to move or change jobs so as to be closer, spend more time. Maybe they will get involved in other people's lives, maybe they will contract to long term shared responsibilities, maybe they will have children. So far so good. Now when in this process does the need arise to take out pen and paper and write out a contract listing a number of activities that each person may never, from now on, do with any one else than the other party?
At a deep level, I don't understand monogamy, because I can't answer the above question. I would answer 'never', this need does not arise. There may of course be practical circumstances that restrict what activities are possible. If I only have time or energy to play badminton trice a week and I decide to play three times weekly with Andy, I can't also play badminton with Becky. If I decide to move to Ecuador, I will have less opportunities for skiing. If I have a home, I have to pay rent. If I have a child, I have to take care of it. Some of these things need contracting, such as living somewhere (together), and having children. But why would I contract, irrespective of such practical needs, to avoid certain activities with certain people?
The above line of thought could of course be restated for any number of people. 'Three persons meet, they like each other, spend time...'. The norm in our society, however, is that people should live in Couples. There are norms for when a Couple is created and for the nature of different stages of Couplehood. People may disagree about these things ('we are not dating, we are just having sex', 'don't you think it is too early for you to meet my children/parents?'). However, exclusivity in certain areas of life is at the heart of the institution or idea of the Couple. Most importantly, sex should be exclusive (though other kinds of intimacy may or may not be included, such as kissing [on the mouth], sitting close, being naked, being alone with someone of the other sex [more than a certain time] etc.).
The political question of monogamy is whether the institution of the Couple should be supported by law and opinion, perhaps to the extent that alternative lifestyles are suppressed. Naturally, without norms and contracts, it may happen (often) that people live together in pairs and do certain things, such as have sex, only with each other. Monogamy in this sense, as a consequence of personal (uncorrupted) preferences and of practical considerations, is in no way problematic (even smart people sometimes seem to think that resistance to the norm of monogamy is resistance to [them] living in pairs).
The personal question of monogamy is whether I (you) should live monogamously, given the current state of affairs. I will return to this.
The most crude defense of monogamy is to insist that it is somehow natural or a necessary part of the good life. Modern genetics of course tells us that both monogamy and polygamy has its advantages for proliferation, and history that both lifestyles have been common and have each dominated societies, probably with polygamy over-represented. To me, it is obvious from both personal experience and direct observation that even in our extremely monogamy-oriented society, some people can have healthy love- and sex relationships with several persons at the same time. To deny this is not only to subscribe to an essentialist idea about the human good (which may not be so bad), but to let the one path to this good be defined by contingent historical circumstances. Such narrow-mindedness is similar to claiming that drinking alcohol, or dancing, or listening to pop music can not be part of a healthy and happy life. Perhaps cooperation and community, or individuality and self-realization, or strength of character and faithfulness to principle, are essential to the human good. Such general goods, however, may be achieved through a wide variety of lifestyles.
It is interesting to think that the fanatic commitment to monogamy become widespread in the European culture only after the church started to propagate monogamy in the middle ages, making children born outside of the sanctified marriage illegitimate and so improper heirs to land and property. Needless to say, land and property without proper heirs went to the church. (The old polygamy, or semi-polygamy where a man had one wife and some concubines, was of course patriarchic in that it was integrated with general male oppression and usually only men could have several partners.) (See The development of the family and marriage in Europe by Jack Goody [Cambridge University Press 1983])
Sex is of course surrounded by all kinds of moralisms. The commitment to exclusive Couples is, however, one of the strongest. For example, the idea that there should be love where there is sex is obviously weaker than the idea that there should be no more loving sex where there is some already. Having more than one loving and intimate relationship is generally considered immoral or unhealthy, or at least 'not serious'. Having sex with a series of different persons, perhaps a new one every time, without having a close relationship with any of them, is more socially accepted. This may be somewhat frown upon, or considered a short-coming, possibly a sign of imbalance somehow, but is generally considered more sound than having two or more close, loving, intimate relationships.
Nothing so strong as acceptance of alternative lifestyles as equally worthy paths to the good life is needed to hold that society should not suppress or hinder these lifestyles. As long as actions do not harm others and do not weaken the autonomy or liberty of the agent, it is illiberal for society to treat them non-neutrally. I find the legal benefits for two person relationships (whether marriage or homosexual partnerships or Swedish style living together relationships - 'samboskap') unacceptable and illiberal. I find the social conventions committed to the exclusiveness of loving intimacy unfounded and oppressive. Of course, it can always be argued that polygamy would threaten autonomy in some way. Such arguments most often depend, more or less explicitly, on narrow-minded ideas about the means to the good (a 'complete' life must include a spouse, being one of many wives is not a 'worthy' life etc. [or more far-fetched: there are some polygamous cultures where women are oppressed]).
More positively, why should we reject monogamy as norm? Most fundamentally, different lifestyles suit different people in different phases of their lives. More than two persons may love each other and want to live together. Some people do not distinguish between friends and lovers. If monogamy is forced on such people, they will be less happy. And there are clear advantages to these lifestyles. Being more than two people in a close, loving relationship brings more variety, more varied skills and talents, more people to share responsibilities. Not singling out lovers as a special category among friends allows for greater independence and individuality, removes the need for break-ups or divorces, and keeps the window open to sharing all parts of life with new people.
Rejecting the strong attachment to monogamy would also have benefits for people who would still chose to live in pairs. Today we attribute extreme importance to being 'faithful'. A single case of 'unfaithfulness' (having sex with someone else) is often considered reason enough to end a long-term loving relationship, which may include common projects such as shared living, and even shared responsibilities to children. Needless to say, such break-ups are very damaging and could be avoided if the monogamy norm was not so strong. Also, the mere idea that there is a list of forbidden activities can be experienced as a frustrating and unnecessary limitation even for a person who generally wants to live in a pair. This idea involves a sort of owning of the other person and of being owned by her, a sort of formal control over the other enters into the loving relationship. Importantly, this aspect of the relationship may distract from the positive project of joint life creation. When the question of 'faithfulness' is attributed overriding importance, people focus more on the other person's possible relationships with others than on her relationship with oneself. This can make people fail to appreciate the good qualities of a relationship, because they are deemed subordinate to the issue of 'faithfulness', and conversely, it can make people accept destructive aspects of a relationship, because at least there is 'faithfulness', someone is standing by one's side (even if she is busy destroying one's life).
In sum, there is not much to be said for monogamy as norm. Now for the personal question - is there anything to be said for living monogamously?
Well, yes. Many Couples live in close, cooperative and loving relationships which last for a long time and in which they invest and receive a lot of positive thought and feeling. Such relationships may be hard to achieve, in particular in the competitive, materialistic and consumerist world that is modern society. The institution of the Couple and of Family functions as a sanctuary where we are free to give and love unconditionally. Given the strong tendency toward alienation from our fellow humans, toward treating each other as merely buyers and sellers, suppliers and customers, and given the norm of monogamy and its being internalized in the vast majority, and given also our strong individualistic aversion to adjustment to collective projects, it may be hard nowadays to establish any more comprehensive scheme of long-term unselfish cooperation than the couple/family. Trying to create an extended family or a group of not family-related people with the same long term commitment to unselfish cooperation may fail and may not be worth the effort when there is a framework readily available for having that closeness with one other person. Against this it can be argued that in the long run we need to return to larger loving groups in order to live fulfilling lives, as two (adults) is too few, too few to create enough breathing space, to get the varied support we need, to be creative together in many different ways, to raise children, to protect ourselves from the destructive aspects of our modern culture. (Naturally, the institution of the couple/family often serves to protect exploitation and oppression from outside interference. This does not subtract from the qualities that exist in many well functioning couples/families.)
(Does the capacity of the institution of the Couple to create a sanctuary protecting us from the downsides of modern society depend (casually) on its status as more or less mandatory? Maybe. Probably not. How do we find the answer to this question? If there is such dependence, would the weakening of the Couple facilitate other means of protection to the extent that the net protection is constant? Or increasing? Decreasing?)
Do the qualities of the Couple depend on its exclusive nature? Maybe. Here there are opposing forces. A loving relationship becomes more stable if we reduce the risks that it will be replaced or marginalized by other loving relationships. We do have limited time to live our lives and time spend with one person can sometimes subtract from the time spend with another, desires fulfilled with one person can sometimes make us less eager to fulfill similar desires with another person. If we confine intimacy to one of our relationships, it automatically acquires a special status as the place to fulfill our need and desires for intimacy. This special status can protect the relationship from competition. On the other hand, confining intimacy to the relationship can become a strain, as discussed above. Also, relationships may be healthier if they are not taken for granted but reaffirmed continuously.
Are there any not obviously contingent factors that strengthen the case for exclusive love and sex relationships between two people? Well, two is the smallest number larger than one - in some rudimentary sense it should be easiest to establish loving closeness with one other person. On the other hand, as mentioned, we may need more than one. How about the unique closeness of sex? Well, because sex is so physical and intimate, it may have, regardless of culture, the potential of being a more complete meeting or union than any other activity. Wrestling is very physical, but being naked and physically close in a non-competitive, caring and cooperative, relaxed manner, and then kissing, maybe penetrating, and being attentive to the little movements and sensations of the other body(ies) and responding to them in subtle ways in an interaction of loving giving and receiving, this activity has a unique closeness to it. This means that we can open ourselves in sex in ways that are not possible in other activities, and that even when we try not to, we may to some extent open ourselves, or expose ourselves, to the other(s). With this delicate and exposed closeness comes vulnerability, perhaps not necessarily, but at least as a natural tendency.
None of this, however, seems to give direct support to the idea of exclusive love and sex relationships. Why should we not have this unique closeness with more than one person? The vulnerability is certainly a reason to be cautions - to consider the effects on oneself and on others of having sex. It is a reason for restricting sex to relationships where one feels secure and respected, loved perhaps. Sex can of course be an imperfect substitute for caring attention, a confirmation of one's social status, it can be corrupted by many different imbalances. Indeed, in our present day, sex is infected with a lot of symbolic functions that distract from the simple pleasure and closeness of the activity. However, for reasonably strong and healthy people in the right circumstances, sex can simply be a pleasurable way to come close and spend time together.
The value and function of monogamy further depends on how sex and the desire for sex is dealt with more generally - as something to be embraced and acted upon any time the right circumstances present themselves, or as something to be controlled in order to focus on more important things and avoid spilling sexual and other energy. Within the latter perspective, monogamy can be a way to control urges and impulses, as part of a general path of self control, and to direct sexual energy in constructive ways. Of course, monogamy can be a way to use the unique closeness of sex to create a special bond with one person. This is only an instance of a general possibility to reserve special aspects of life to share with special people. I may have a friend with whom I go hiking in a certain area every spring, the exclusiveness of this activity being part of the experience (if I went to the same area with someone else the week before, we could not wonder together at the flowers in the same way, relating back to our earlier visits etc.) Exclusiveness may allow for spending less energy on sex and desiring sex and may possibly make sex with the chosen person more intense. From the perspective of polygamy or free love, monogamy can be seen as a step towards celibacy, a way of controlling and limiting oneself, but perhaps in a positive, constructive way, just like full celibacy can be either a way to achieve greater spiritual focus, or a frustrating restriction that creates imbalance and distracts from true spiritual development.
Finally, monogamy can be seen as just one of the tools we have available to make our lives more manageable, more structured, and so easier to handle. In all aspects of life, we (especially here in Northern Europe) constrain our lives by making plans and promises, for no apparent reason. We seem to like having our lives decided for us in advance. (Compare also religion and succumbtion under authority more generally.) Perhaps this provides a sense of security and stability. Non-monogamy is in some ways more dynamic and less predictable, though it may also provide greater stability by allowing relationships to evolve more organically and removing the need for conventional break-ups. Also, monogamy is evidently not full proof, but if nothing else, it hides the competition so that one does not have to think about it.
Perhaps the sheer exclusivity of monogamy may be a means to (artificially?) boost one's sense of self-worth and self-confidence. Or perhaps people do not crave monogamy in itself, but rather the exclusive attention and sharing that often comes with it, to be the prime concern of at least one other person? We all need attention, love, sharing, and contracting to get this from one other person may be a rational means to that end. Of course, it seems very likely that there would be more attention, love and sharing to go around if we could free ourselves from the constraint of defaulting into monogamy.
Personally, I have never seen the beauty of monogamy. I can see myself wanting to share my life fully with one other person for a time, and I can see myself using monogamy as semi-celibacy. But I can not for my life see how I would volunteer to contract into such exclusivity, unless, possibly, if this was a necessary sacrifice in order to keep a person I loved.
At a deep level, I don't understand monogamy, because I can't answer the above question. I would answer 'never', this need does not arise. There may of course be practical circumstances that restrict what activities are possible. If I only have time or energy to play badminton trice a week and I decide to play three times weekly with Andy, I can't also play badminton with Becky. If I decide to move to Ecuador, I will have less opportunities for skiing. If I have a home, I have to pay rent. If I have a child, I have to take care of it. Some of these things need contracting, such as living somewhere (together), and having children. But why would I contract, irrespective of such practical needs, to avoid certain activities with certain people?
The above line of thought could of course be restated for any number of people. 'Three persons meet, they like each other, spend time...'. The norm in our society, however, is that people should live in Couples. There are norms for when a Couple is created and for the nature of different stages of Couplehood. People may disagree about these things ('we are not dating, we are just having sex', 'don't you think it is too early for you to meet my children/parents?'). However, exclusivity in certain areas of life is at the heart of the institution or idea of the Couple. Most importantly, sex should be exclusive (though other kinds of intimacy may or may not be included, such as kissing [on the mouth], sitting close, being naked, being alone with someone of the other sex [more than a certain time] etc.).
The political question of monogamy is whether the institution of the Couple should be supported by law and opinion, perhaps to the extent that alternative lifestyles are suppressed. Naturally, without norms and contracts, it may happen (often) that people live together in pairs and do certain things, such as have sex, only with each other. Monogamy in this sense, as a consequence of personal (uncorrupted) preferences and of practical considerations, is in no way problematic (even smart people sometimes seem to think that resistance to the norm of monogamy is resistance to [them] living in pairs).
The personal question of monogamy is whether I (you) should live monogamously, given the current state of affairs. I will return to this.
The most crude defense of monogamy is to insist that it is somehow natural or a necessary part of the good life. Modern genetics of course tells us that both monogamy and polygamy has its advantages for proliferation, and history that both lifestyles have been common and have each dominated societies, probably with polygamy over-represented. To me, it is obvious from both personal experience and direct observation that even in our extremely monogamy-oriented society, some people can have healthy love- and sex relationships with several persons at the same time. To deny this is not only to subscribe to an essentialist idea about the human good (which may not be so bad), but to let the one path to this good be defined by contingent historical circumstances. Such narrow-mindedness is similar to claiming that drinking alcohol, or dancing, or listening to pop music can not be part of a healthy and happy life. Perhaps cooperation and community, or individuality and self-realization, or strength of character and faithfulness to principle, are essential to the human good. Such general goods, however, may be achieved through a wide variety of lifestyles.
It is interesting to think that the fanatic commitment to monogamy become widespread in the European culture only after the church started to propagate monogamy in the middle ages, making children born outside of the sanctified marriage illegitimate and so improper heirs to land and property. Needless to say, land and property without proper heirs went to the church. (The old polygamy, or semi-polygamy where a man had one wife and some concubines, was of course patriarchic in that it was integrated with general male oppression and usually only men could have several partners.) (See The development of the family and marriage in Europe by Jack Goody [Cambridge University Press 1983])
Sex is of course surrounded by all kinds of moralisms. The commitment to exclusive Couples is, however, one of the strongest. For example, the idea that there should be love where there is sex is obviously weaker than the idea that there should be no more loving sex where there is some already. Having more than one loving and intimate relationship is generally considered immoral or unhealthy, or at least 'not serious'. Having sex with a series of different persons, perhaps a new one every time, without having a close relationship with any of them, is more socially accepted. This may be somewhat frown upon, or considered a short-coming, possibly a sign of imbalance somehow, but is generally considered more sound than having two or more close, loving, intimate relationships.
Nothing so strong as acceptance of alternative lifestyles as equally worthy paths to the good life is needed to hold that society should not suppress or hinder these lifestyles. As long as actions do not harm others and do not weaken the autonomy or liberty of the agent, it is illiberal for society to treat them non-neutrally. I find the legal benefits for two person relationships (whether marriage or homosexual partnerships or Swedish style living together relationships - 'samboskap') unacceptable and illiberal. I find the social conventions committed to the exclusiveness of loving intimacy unfounded and oppressive. Of course, it can always be argued that polygamy would threaten autonomy in some way. Such arguments most often depend, more or less explicitly, on narrow-minded ideas about the means to the good (a 'complete' life must include a spouse, being one of many wives is not a 'worthy' life etc. [or more far-fetched: there are some polygamous cultures where women are oppressed]).
More positively, why should we reject monogamy as norm? Most fundamentally, different lifestyles suit different people in different phases of their lives. More than two persons may love each other and want to live together. Some people do not distinguish between friends and lovers. If monogamy is forced on such people, they will be less happy. And there are clear advantages to these lifestyles. Being more than two people in a close, loving relationship brings more variety, more varied skills and talents, more people to share responsibilities. Not singling out lovers as a special category among friends allows for greater independence and individuality, removes the need for break-ups or divorces, and keeps the window open to sharing all parts of life with new people.
Rejecting the strong attachment to monogamy would also have benefits for people who would still chose to live in pairs. Today we attribute extreme importance to being 'faithful'. A single case of 'unfaithfulness' (having sex with someone else) is often considered reason enough to end a long-term loving relationship, which may include common projects such as shared living, and even shared responsibilities to children. Needless to say, such break-ups are very damaging and could be avoided if the monogamy norm was not so strong. Also, the mere idea that there is a list of forbidden activities can be experienced as a frustrating and unnecessary limitation even for a person who generally wants to live in a pair. This idea involves a sort of owning of the other person and of being owned by her, a sort of formal control over the other enters into the loving relationship. Importantly, this aspect of the relationship may distract from the positive project of joint life creation. When the question of 'faithfulness' is attributed overriding importance, people focus more on the other person's possible relationships with others than on her relationship with oneself. This can make people fail to appreciate the good qualities of a relationship, because they are deemed subordinate to the issue of 'faithfulness', and conversely, it can make people accept destructive aspects of a relationship, because at least there is 'faithfulness', someone is standing by one's side (even if she is busy destroying one's life).
In sum, there is not much to be said for monogamy as norm. Now for the personal question - is there anything to be said for living monogamously?
Well, yes. Many Couples live in close, cooperative and loving relationships which last for a long time and in which they invest and receive a lot of positive thought and feeling. Such relationships may be hard to achieve, in particular in the competitive, materialistic and consumerist world that is modern society. The institution of the Couple and of Family functions as a sanctuary where we are free to give and love unconditionally. Given the strong tendency toward alienation from our fellow humans, toward treating each other as merely buyers and sellers, suppliers and customers, and given the norm of monogamy and its being internalized in the vast majority, and given also our strong individualistic aversion to adjustment to collective projects, it may be hard nowadays to establish any more comprehensive scheme of long-term unselfish cooperation than the couple/family. Trying to create an extended family or a group of not family-related people with the same long term commitment to unselfish cooperation may fail and may not be worth the effort when there is a framework readily available for having that closeness with one other person. Against this it can be argued that in the long run we need to return to larger loving groups in order to live fulfilling lives, as two (adults) is too few, too few to create enough breathing space, to get the varied support we need, to be creative together in many different ways, to raise children, to protect ourselves from the destructive aspects of our modern culture. (Naturally, the institution of the couple/family often serves to protect exploitation and oppression from outside interference. This does not subtract from the qualities that exist in many well functioning couples/families.)
(Does the capacity of the institution of the Couple to create a sanctuary protecting us from the downsides of modern society depend (casually) on its status as more or less mandatory? Maybe. Probably not. How do we find the answer to this question? If there is such dependence, would the weakening of the Couple facilitate other means of protection to the extent that the net protection is constant? Or increasing? Decreasing?)
Do the qualities of the Couple depend on its exclusive nature? Maybe. Here there are opposing forces. A loving relationship becomes more stable if we reduce the risks that it will be replaced or marginalized by other loving relationships. We do have limited time to live our lives and time spend with one person can sometimes subtract from the time spend with another, desires fulfilled with one person can sometimes make us less eager to fulfill similar desires with another person. If we confine intimacy to one of our relationships, it automatically acquires a special status as the place to fulfill our need and desires for intimacy. This special status can protect the relationship from competition. On the other hand, confining intimacy to the relationship can become a strain, as discussed above. Also, relationships may be healthier if they are not taken for granted but reaffirmed continuously.
Are there any not obviously contingent factors that strengthen the case for exclusive love and sex relationships between two people? Well, two is the smallest number larger than one - in some rudimentary sense it should be easiest to establish loving closeness with one other person. On the other hand, as mentioned, we may need more than one. How about the unique closeness of sex? Well, because sex is so physical and intimate, it may have, regardless of culture, the potential of being a more complete meeting or union than any other activity. Wrestling is very physical, but being naked and physically close in a non-competitive, caring and cooperative, relaxed manner, and then kissing, maybe penetrating, and being attentive to the little movements and sensations of the other body(ies) and responding to them in subtle ways in an interaction of loving giving and receiving, this activity has a unique closeness to it. This means that we can open ourselves in sex in ways that are not possible in other activities, and that even when we try not to, we may to some extent open ourselves, or expose ourselves, to the other(s). With this delicate and exposed closeness comes vulnerability, perhaps not necessarily, but at least as a natural tendency.
None of this, however, seems to give direct support to the idea of exclusive love and sex relationships. Why should we not have this unique closeness with more than one person? The vulnerability is certainly a reason to be cautions - to consider the effects on oneself and on others of having sex. It is a reason for restricting sex to relationships where one feels secure and respected, loved perhaps. Sex can of course be an imperfect substitute for caring attention, a confirmation of one's social status, it can be corrupted by many different imbalances. Indeed, in our present day, sex is infected with a lot of symbolic functions that distract from the simple pleasure and closeness of the activity. However, for reasonably strong and healthy people in the right circumstances, sex can simply be a pleasurable way to come close and spend time together.
The value and function of monogamy further depends on how sex and the desire for sex is dealt with more generally - as something to be embraced and acted upon any time the right circumstances present themselves, or as something to be controlled in order to focus on more important things and avoid spilling sexual and other energy. Within the latter perspective, monogamy can be a way to control urges and impulses, as part of a general path of self control, and to direct sexual energy in constructive ways. Of course, monogamy can be a way to use the unique closeness of sex to create a special bond with one person. This is only an instance of a general possibility to reserve special aspects of life to share with special people. I may have a friend with whom I go hiking in a certain area every spring, the exclusiveness of this activity being part of the experience (if I went to the same area with someone else the week before, we could not wonder together at the flowers in the same way, relating back to our earlier visits etc.) Exclusiveness may allow for spending less energy on sex and desiring sex and may possibly make sex with the chosen person more intense. From the perspective of polygamy or free love, monogamy can be seen as a step towards celibacy, a way of controlling and limiting oneself, but perhaps in a positive, constructive way, just like full celibacy can be either a way to achieve greater spiritual focus, or a frustrating restriction that creates imbalance and distracts from true spiritual development.
Finally, monogamy can be seen as just one of the tools we have available to make our lives more manageable, more structured, and so easier to handle. In all aspects of life, we (especially here in Northern Europe) constrain our lives by making plans and promises, for no apparent reason. We seem to like having our lives decided for us in advance. (Compare also religion and succumbtion under authority more generally.) Perhaps this provides a sense of security and stability. Non-monogamy is in some ways more dynamic and less predictable, though it may also provide greater stability by allowing relationships to evolve more organically and removing the need for conventional break-ups. Also, monogamy is evidently not full proof, but if nothing else, it hides the competition so that one does not have to think about it.
Perhaps the sheer exclusivity of monogamy may be a means to (artificially?) boost one's sense of self-worth and self-confidence. Or perhaps people do not crave monogamy in itself, but rather the exclusive attention and sharing that often comes with it, to be the prime concern of at least one other person? We all need attention, love, sharing, and contracting to get this from one other person may be a rational means to that end. Of course, it seems very likely that there would be more attention, love and sharing to go around if we could free ourselves from the constraint of defaulting into monogamy.
Personally, I have never seen the beauty of monogamy. I can see myself wanting to share my life fully with one other person for a time, and I can see myself using monogamy as semi-celibacy. But I can not for my life see how I would volunteer to contract into such exclusivity, unless, possibly, if this was a necessary sacrifice in order to keep a person I loved.
Animals - killing them, eating them, using their skin
The first entry on this blog will be on animal rights - not because there is much new to be said, but because it is a frequent topic of everyday philosophical conversation and I would like to clarify my position.
Somewhat surprisingly, at least for us non-libertarians, the best treatment of animal rights I have come across is Robert Nozick's in Anarchy, State and Utopia (1974). Nozick notes that it is hard to prove that animals matter morally, but that it is also hard to prove that humans matter. He then invites us to consider whether there is any reason why we should not cause thousands of contended cows to suffer or die by snapping our fingers, if we could. This thought experiment shows to most of us that we do care at least to some extent about the welfare of animals. We then cannot escape considering how much animals matter and how their lives and welfare weigh against our pleasures and conveniences. Nozick asks us to consider whether it would be alright to swing a bat for fun if it happened to hit a cows head every time. This may sound absurd, but the point is that it removes us from our everyday preconceptions and isolates the question of whether our small pleasures are important enough to outweigh the moral cost of killing or harming animals. Taking the example a little closer to the real case, Nozick asks us to consider whether it would be alright to kill an animal to use its bones to make a bat that is slightly more pleasurable to swing than the alternative bat (with no hitting of heads involved). He also asks us to consider whether it matters if we hire someone else to do the killing for us.
I have no firm stand on the issue of killing animals. This is partly because I have no firm stand on the issue of killing more generally. Since dying is not bad for the creature who dies, because she no longer exists once dead and so nothing can be bad for her, I tend to think that the only bad thing about killing is the "side-effects" - that the survivors get upset, anxious, sad etc. I think animals get less upset when their fellows are killed, but I think they do get upset, especially if their parents or children (off-spring) are killed. But here one should look at empirical research.
Perhaps this detached perspective on killing is symptomatic of too analytical a philosophy. Like our (we urbanites) relationship with animals - detached, analytical. We argue about the possible feelings and experience of animals in the abstract, instead of recognizing them as fellow creatures - parts of creation, nature, the ecosystem. Our relations, as some Native Americans would say. If we would see them as such there would perhaps be less need for abstract principle and discussion and we would more or less automatically adopt some reasonable position - such as 'animals should not be killed unnecessarily and should be well taken care of'.
However, we live in a modern society and must deal with our impact on creation in the abstract, for it can not be seen and felt. When I think about the killing of animals that take place so that I can use their skin for my shoes (I don't eat meat but I do, rarely, buy and use leather) I tend to oscillate between feeling and thinking that it is disgusting and wrong, and thinking that it is cruel but natural - living and letting die (and letting others kill for you). This indicates that I have no grounded view and no guiding feeling.
The question of how to relate to animals is much like the question of how to relate to distant needy (human) strangers. We don't see them, we don't feel them, we feel responsible when we think about them, but we can easily put them out of our minds and hearts. Also, there is a system in place that favours us over them and the system is hard to change and not really our responsibility. In order to do good we have to take the trouble to change our lives a little and sacrifice some convenience, troubles and sacrifices that our neighbours might not take upon them and that will give us no appreciation (unless we surround ourselves with like-minded people to boost us). But more importantly, when we do these things, we leave the comfort of mindless adherence and take a stand, and this means that we suddenly have to explain ourselves, to ourselves and to others. Adherence to norms normally requires no explanation or justification, but if we don't eat red meat, why do we eat fish? If we give 1% of our income to distant needy strangers, why not 2%? I think this is the psychological explanation of why people are sometimes hostile to vegetarianism and foreign aid - they are unwilling to reflect on their causal and moral responsibility.
None of this settles the issue of animal rights of course. I think that by whatever reasonable standard we judge, whether utilitarian (minimize pain and distress) or rights based (beings have rights to life and fair treatment), animals count, though not as much as human beings. The two related standard arguments against attributing greater moral importance to human beings is that whatever the underlying characteristic that motivates this difference - intelligence, awareness etc. - some human beings have less of it than some animals and human beings have very varied amounts of it. This I think we can simply concede. Not all human beings are of equal moral importance.
Somewhat surprisingly, at least for us non-libertarians, the best treatment of animal rights I have come across is Robert Nozick's in Anarchy, State and Utopia (1974). Nozick notes that it is hard to prove that animals matter morally, but that it is also hard to prove that humans matter. He then invites us to consider whether there is any reason why we should not cause thousands of contended cows to suffer or die by snapping our fingers, if we could. This thought experiment shows to most of us that we do care at least to some extent about the welfare of animals. We then cannot escape considering how much animals matter and how their lives and welfare weigh against our pleasures and conveniences. Nozick asks us to consider whether it would be alright to swing a bat for fun if it happened to hit a cows head every time. This may sound absurd, but the point is that it removes us from our everyday preconceptions and isolates the question of whether our small pleasures are important enough to outweigh the moral cost of killing or harming animals. Taking the example a little closer to the real case, Nozick asks us to consider whether it would be alright to kill an animal to use its bones to make a bat that is slightly more pleasurable to swing than the alternative bat (with no hitting of heads involved). He also asks us to consider whether it matters if we hire someone else to do the killing for us.
I have no firm stand on the issue of killing animals. This is partly because I have no firm stand on the issue of killing more generally. Since dying is not bad for the creature who dies, because she no longer exists once dead and so nothing can be bad for her, I tend to think that the only bad thing about killing is the "side-effects" - that the survivors get upset, anxious, sad etc. I think animals get less upset when their fellows are killed, but I think they do get upset, especially if their parents or children (off-spring) are killed. But here one should look at empirical research.
Perhaps this detached perspective on killing is symptomatic of too analytical a philosophy. Like our (we urbanites) relationship with animals - detached, analytical. We argue about the possible feelings and experience of animals in the abstract, instead of recognizing them as fellow creatures - parts of creation, nature, the ecosystem. Our relations, as some Native Americans would say. If we would see them as such there would perhaps be less need for abstract principle and discussion and we would more or less automatically adopt some reasonable position - such as 'animals should not be killed unnecessarily and should be well taken care of'.
However, we live in a modern society and must deal with our impact on creation in the abstract, for it can not be seen and felt. When I think about the killing of animals that take place so that I can use their skin for my shoes (I don't eat meat but I do, rarely, buy and use leather) I tend to oscillate between feeling and thinking that it is disgusting and wrong, and thinking that it is cruel but natural - living and letting die (and letting others kill for you). This indicates that I have no grounded view and no guiding feeling.
The question of how to relate to animals is much like the question of how to relate to distant needy (human) strangers. We don't see them, we don't feel them, we feel responsible when we think about them, but we can easily put them out of our minds and hearts. Also, there is a system in place that favours us over them and the system is hard to change and not really our responsibility. In order to do good we have to take the trouble to change our lives a little and sacrifice some convenience, troubles and sacrifices that our neighbours might not take upon them and that will give us no appreciation (unless we surround ourselves with like-minded people to boost us). But more importantly, when we do these things, we leave the comfort of mindless adherence and take a stand, and this means that we suddenly have to explain ourselves, to ourselves and to others. Adherence to norms normally requires no explanation or justification, but if we don't eat red meat, why do we eat fish? If we give 1% of our income to distant needy strangers, why not 2%? I think this is the psychological explanation of why people are sometimes hostile to vegetarianism and foreign aid - they are unwilling to reflect on their causal and moral responsibility.
None of this settles the issue of animal rights of course. I think that by whatever reasonable standard we judge, whether utilitarian (minimize pain and distress) or rights based (beings have rights to life and fair treatment), animals count, though not as much as human beings. The two related standard arguments against attributing greater moral importance to human beings is that whatever the underlying characteristic that motivates this difference - intelligence, awareness etc. - some human beings have less of it than some animals and human beings have very varied amounts of it. This I think we can simply concede. Not all human beings are of equal moral importance.
