Lord Moulton: Law and [the Reformation of] Manners

Caricature of Lord Moulton 

Vanity Fair (4 Oct. 1900)

 

"The great principle of Obedience to the Unenforceable is no mere ideal, 

but in some form or other it is strong in the hearts of all except the most depraved."

 

 

I. 

 

Another key figure associated with the reformation of manners is the one time Cambridge Apostle, John Fletcher Moulton - or Lord Moulton, as he was known by most people. 

 

A brilliant mathematician, Moulton was also a top London barrister, a Fellow of the Royal Society, first chairman of the Medical Research Council, and a Liberal MP. He was even awarded (amongst many other things) the French Legion of Honour for helping to establish an international unit for measuring electricity and regarded (alongside his correspondent Charles Darwin) to be one of the most intelligent men in England.  

 

During the Great War, Moulton served as chairman of a committee to advise on the supply of explosives, eventually becoming Director General of the Explosives Department. He did have qualms about the use of poison gases, however, believing them to be weapons that lay outside the bounds of civilised warfare.

 

After the War, Moulton returned to what was always his passion: the law. He died in 1921, aged 76. But he was destined to live posthumously due to publication in the July 1924 issue of The Atlantic of an impromptu speech entitled 'Law and Manners', which he had made to the Authors' Club a few years prior to his death ...

 

II.

 

In the speech, Moulton divided human action into three domains. First is the domain of Positive Law, "where our actions are prescribed by laws binding upon us which must be obeyed". Second is the domain of Free Choice, "which includes all those actions as to which we claim and enjoy complete freedom" [1]. 

 

Between these two extremes, however, lies a third, much wider domain in which our actions are not determined by law, but in which we are not absolutely free to behave in any way we choose either. It's this domain - which Moulton calls the domain of Obedience to the Unenforceable - wherein the question of manners is most crucial. 

 

In this domain of manners, man voluntarily obeys those rules of conduct which cannot be enforced by any external power. In other words, the individual is left to make his or her own ethical decisions and is not subject to any categorical imperative. It's the land that those who would impose a universal system of morality hate the most. 

 

Moulton says: 

"This country which lies between Law and Free Choice I always think of as the domain of Manners. To me, Manners in this broad sense signifies the doing that which you should do although you are not obliged to do it. I do not wish to call it Duty, for that is too narrow to describe it, nor would I call it Morals for the same reason. It might include both, but it extends beyond them. It covers all cases of right doing where there is no one to make you do it but yourself." 

 

Obviously, there are some who think the domain of law should be prioritised and they would seek to regulate and control every aspect of daily lives; we saw this during the covid pandemic when there were those who openly delighted in lockdowns and mandates. Others, perhaps of a more libertarian bent but often just as fanatic, think the domain of freedom should be radically extended and the state (including the criminal justice system) dissolved.

 

But I suspect that Moulton is right to insist that all three domains are "essential to the properly organized life of the individual, and one must be on one's guard against thinking that any of them can safely be encroached upon" (although, having conceded that, he and I would probably not agree as to what constitutes the properly organized life of the individual - not a phrase that I would in fact ever use). 

 

Personally, its the domain of manners that interests most - for it seems to me this is the land of culture wherein the individual is best able to give style to their existence. As Moulton says, the greatness of a people is probably best judged not by how many (or how harsh) its laws are - nor, on the other hand, by how far the ideal of freedom is extended - but by how they operate within the domain of manners:     

 

"Mere obedience to Law does not measure the greatness of a Nation. It can easily be obtained by a strong executive, and most easily of all from a timorous people. Nor is the licence of behavior which so often accompanies the absence of Law, and which is miscalled Liberty, a proof of greatness. The true test is the extent to which the individuals composing the nation can be trusted to obey self-imposed law."

 

In other words, how well such individuals understand the singular importance of developing techniques of the self and/or an art of existence if they wish to give style to their lives. Ultimately, those philosophers who do their thinking on the catwalk and those who call for a reformation of manners, are on the same side in the war against stupidity, ugliness, and all forms of tyranny (including those masquerading as political correctness and social justice).         

 

Anyway, let's give the last word to his lordship:

 

"Now I can tell you why I chose the title 'Law and Manners.' It must be evident to you that Manners must include all things which a man should impose upon himself, from duty to good taste. I have borne in mind the great motto of William of Wykeham - Manners makyth Man. It is in this sense - loyalty to the rule of Obedience to the Unenforceable, throughout the whole realm of personal action - that we should use the word 'Manners' if we would truly say that 'Manners makyth Man'."

 

 

Note: All lines quoted are from 'Law and Manners, by the Rt. Hon. Lord Moulton, in The Atlantic, (July, 1924), which can be found online as a pdf by those who are interested. 

 

Two other recent posts on the reformation of manners can be easily accessed by clicking here and here. The first adopts a Nietzschean perspective on this question; the second argues in agreement with Lord Chesterfield that it's no laughing matter.    

D. H. Lawrence and Vaginal Ecosophy

 Manko-chan by Rokudenashiko (Megumi Igarashi) 
Click here for her official website

The physiological status of the vaginal milieu is important not only for the health and wellbeing of women, but also for those lovers who desire to enter such an environment in order to deposit their semen or simply for the pleasure of poking about.

Obviously, there are several factors that are conducive to the latter, including degrees of tightness and levels of lubrication, for example. When it comes to vaginas, one is always hoping to discover the Goldilocks zone ...  

According to D. H. Lawrence, however, speaking in the guise of an Old Testament Patriarch, the secret places of women are not to be wallowed in under any circumstance and it's never safe to penetrate the cunt unless one does so with God's blessing:

"I tell you again, whosoever goes in unto a woman, unless the Lord of Hosts goes with him, goes towards his own death."  

Thankfully, Lawrence immediately provides an oppositional voice to such misogynistic stupidity; someone who speaks up for love between men and women and who playfully points out that even if sex results in la petite mort, so too does every erection signify a kind of miracle and a triumph over death.   

Another dissenter goes further, and speaks powerfully in defence of the sons and daughters of men who act in the world and remain true to the earth - unlike those who claim to be the Sons of God and are desirous only of a spiritual afterlife:

"Sons of God, you look into the heavens. Sons of men, daughters of men, we sweep the bread beneath the fern-leaves, we put seed in the heavy earth. We watch the flocks, we take milk in gourds, we make cheese in the butter-skins. We weave white wool and dip it in colour. We build houses of wood, we press the glass of earth into knives. All these things we do, with wit and nimble fingers. We labour, and then we sing, we dance, we have pleasure among the limbs of women. All this is ours. - Sons of God, you toil not, neither will you dance. You dwell apart, and your silence is like a cloud. You speak to command  and to chide. Your hearts are dark to the children of men."

This Nietzschean-sounding passage is one we should recite before all those idealists who hate the flesh and subscribe to superterrestrial (and transhuman) fantasies.  
 

Notes

D. H. Lawrence, Noah's Flood, in The Plays, ed. Hans-Wilhelm Schwarze and John Worthen, (Cambridge University Press, 1999), lines quoted are on pp. 565 and 566. 

Readers interested in a related post that discusses Lawrence's play should click here.

Megumi Igarashi, aka Rokudenashiko, is a Japanese sculptor and artist notorious for her work featuring female genitalia. See her memoir, What is Obscenity? The Story of a Good For Nothing Artist and Her Pussy, trans. A. Ishii, (Koyama Press, 2016).  

Philosophical Reflections on Self-Partnering

Emma Watson
Photo: Action Press / Rex / Shutterstock

As members of the Hollywood set are amongst the most self-absorbed, self-obsessed, and self-indulgent individuals in the world, it came as no surprise to hear Emma Watson speak in an interview with Vogue about self-partnering [click here to read online].

Of course, such a single-positive proposition is really nothing very new: we could trace out a long and fascinating history of self-partnering from Narcissus to Jerry Seinfeld; "Now I know what I've been looking for all these years - myself. I've been waiting for me to come along. And now I've swept myself off my feet!"*

And although some people seem to react with hostility to the idea, there's really nothing to get angry or judgemental about. In fact, I would encourage people to be happy for Ms Watson - particularly as she seems to be so content with the arrangement.

Ultimately, self-partnering is better than sitting around moping like Bridget Jones, or complaining about not having met your soulmate - that special someone who will complete you as a human being (as if Aristophanes's amorous fantasy was anything other than that).**

I also agree with Foucault that care for others shouldn't be put before the care of oneself; that the latter is ethically prior due to the fact that the relationship with oneself is ontologically prior. ***    

The only problem comes when you grow tired of the arrangement and seek a conscious uncoupling; i.e., a releasing of oneself from oneself  - 'cos breaking up is hard to do (comma, comma, down dooby doo down down).  

Notes

*Dialogue from Seinfeld, 'The Invitations', (S7/E22, 1999), written by Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld, episode dir. Andy Ackerman. Click here to watch a clip on YouTube.

** Plato, The Symposium, ed. M. C. Howatson and Frisbee C. C. Sheffield, trans. M. C. Howatson, (Cambridge University Press, 2008).

*** Michel Foucault, 'The Ethics of the Concern for Self as a Practice of Freedom', in The Essential Works of Michel Foucault 1: Ethics: Subjectivity and Truth, ed. Paul Rabinow, trans. Robert Hurley and Others, (The New Press, 1997).

Readers who enjoyed this post will probably find an earlier one on sologamy also of interest: click here.

In Praise of Denial

Mike Brennan: Denial 

(Acrylic on canvas, 24" x 30")

mikebrennan.me

It will surprise no one to discover that Shakespeare is the most oft-quoted of all English writers.

Whilst it's probably impossible even for literary scholars to definitively say what his greatest lines are, the good people at No Sweat Shakespeare have kindly provided a list of 50 famous quotes, beginning with To be, or not to be and ending with What light through yonder window breaks.*

It's not the worst list in the world, but it's hardly an imaginative or controversial selection. And, what's more, it doesn't include my own favourite line from Shakespeare: I know thee not, old man ...

This line, from Act 5 Scene 5 of Henry IV, Part 2, has particular resonance to me at this time and deserves much greater critical attention, because the need to deny - our elders, our loved ones, our teachers, our leaders, and, ultimately, ourselves - is an absolutely crucial requirement in the process of becoming what one is.** 

Prince Hal, upon assuming the crown and becoming king, knew it; Zarathustra, who instructs his followers that they must ultimately lose all masters and learn to hate their friends, knew it; and even Jesus, who accepted the kiss from Judas and predicted Peter's triple denial, knew it.

Indeed, Christ himself denied his own mother, when he notoriously put the question to her: Woman, what have I to do with thee? As a reader of Lawrence, I have long viewed this remark made to Mary as a sign of failure. But now - in the position of a long term, full-time carer for an elderly mother with dementia - I'm rather more sympathetic.

That is to say, I'm tempted - in order to preserve my own health and sanity - to turn my back and walk away, because too much love and loyalty to another, or to the past, can be deadly and anyone who wishes to live and fulfil their own destiny has to offer a seemingly cruel denial of someone or something at sometime or other, regardless of the consequences or the pain caused.  

We deny and must deny, says Nietzsche, because something in us wants to live and affirm itself.

There is even, we might suggest, an existential imperative to sell out (i.e., to compromise one's integrity and betray one's principles); not necessarily for personal gain, but in order to leap into the future and carry forward the banner of life. A creative individual must repudiate the familiarity of the past (including old relationships) if he or she is to adventure onward into the unknown.

But this isn't easy: far easier to martyr oneself and to shrivel away inside an old life; a victim of that moral poison and great depressant called pity.  

Notes

 
* Readers interested in the full list of quotes provided by No Sweat Shakespeare should click here.

** Obviously, I'm not talking about denial here in psychological terms, i.e., as a coping mechanism used to avoid confronting an emotionally disturbing truth, or denialism in the political sense of denying historical or scientific fact.

The line from Jesus can be found in John 2:1-5 and the line from Nietzsche in The Gay Science, IV. 307.

Say Hello Then!

Portrait of the Artist Aged 3

(pris juste après une coupe de cheveux)

When I was very young, one of my favourite things to do was stand on the wall at the front of my house and say hello to adult passers-by, be they next-door-neighbours or complete strangers.

In those days, very few people had a car and so there was ample opportunity to initiate contact, even if it was just with the postman, milkman, or the rag-and-bone man, who used to come round on a horse and cart, ringing a bell.

(In those days too, of course, there was no pathological fear of paedophiles and no neurotic concern with health and safety and children of all ages - shocking as it now seems - played outside, unsupervised and without protective clothing.)

One might read my attempt to engage with the world as an innocent sign of friendliness; tinged perhaps with a degree of childhood cheekiness.

But, looking back, I think it betrayed a certain provocative aggression; for if the passer-by failed to respond to my initial greeting, I would quickly issue a second demand that they do so: Say hello then!

Ultimately, it was more a challenge than a greeting ... I didn't want to destroy the passer-by - as I did as an anarchic teenage punk - but I did want to put them on the spot, thus causing a degree of discomfort or irritation.

It wasn't so much that I cared about having my presence acknowledged; but I wanted to remind them that they existed in a world with others and had therefore an ethical obligation to be polite and friendly; that no one had the right to pass by in silence on the other side of the road.

Even today, if I'm honest, I find it shockingly rude when someone sits next to me on a plane, for example, and doesn't nod, smile, or say hello. I understand there's an issue of reserve amongst the English, but, sadly, this is often just used as an excuse to cover up bad manners and social ineptitude.

One of the things I really miss about living in Spain is the fact that everyone says hola!


Afterthought

It might be argued, I suppose, that Torpedo the Ark is just another platform from which to address strangers and that I'm still essentially playing the same childhood game of ethical provocation. And I have to confess that I quite like this idea of continuity with - and loyalty to - my very young self. 

Waxing Philosophical on Insincerity

Oscar Wilde: The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890)

azquotes.com

As a writer, one lives more in fear of being taken seriously than being thought superficial and fraudulent. Thus, like Wilde, one greatly values insincerity ...

If sincerity is the ideal virtue of speaking clearly in accordance with one's true feelings and genuine beliefs, then insincerity is the demonic gift of speaking in tongues and a method for multiplying our personalities and proliferating perspectives.

Insincerity is, therefore, one of the crucial components of art, which, of necessity, is an impure and unhealthy practice; that is to say, a form of decadence that is the very opposite of sincerus. And yet, there are surprisingly many writers who deny this and defend sincerity in all spheres, including artistic sincerity.

Orwell, for example - whom we might regard as the the anti-Wilde - argued that insincerity gives rise to muddled thinking and that this in turn has pernicious (sometimes fatal) political consequences. He condemns writers who seek to disguise their real thoughts and authentic selves by using complex metaphorical language and long words, like a cuttlefish squirting out ink.          

But as Nietzsche pointed out, plain speaking Englishmen are the least philosophical creatures on earth and hardly deserve even to be considered as artists, lacking as they do the imagination to lie and the immoral playfulness of those who delight in wearing masks.  

The problem, ultimately, is that sincerity requires perfect knowledge of self - and that isn't possible; not even for philosophers, who remain (of necessity) strangers to themselves just like the rest of us. It's because - as Nietzsche says - Jeder ist sich selbst der Fernste that we remain beings born of insincerity ...

Notes

The line from Nietzsche that reads in English 'everyone is furthest from himself' is found in the 'Preface' to On the Genealogy of Morality. See p. 3 of the Cambridge University Press edition, 1994, ed. Keith Ansell-Pearson and trans. Carol Diethe. 

For a sister post to this one on the ethics of ambiguity, click here.   

On the Ethics of Ambiguity

Jastrow's ambiguous figure of the duck-rabbit made famous by 

Wittgenstein in his Philosophical Investigations (1953), II, §xi

As a writer, one lives more in fear of being understood than misunderstood. Thus, like Nietzsche, one greatly values ambiguity ...

Ambiguity enables one to appear transpositional and to create an open text in which meaning is always subject to interpretation and, ultimately, deferral; i.e., it allows one to have it not only both ways, but all ways and no way.

(I suppose that's why criminal defence lawyers also like ambiguity. Only prosecutors hoping for a conviction or judges looking to pass sentence, worry about certainty and establishing the facts of a case beyond a reasonable doubt.)    

It's naive, of course, to think that meaning can ever be fully determined; for language is never innocent. Not only does it lack transparency, but ambiguity is built into every word. If grammar is the presence of God within language, then ambiguity is the devil hiding behind every sentence.

 

Thus it is that man - a being who dwells within language - is the ambiguous animal par excellence. Even if we faithfully dot our i's and cross our t's, our relationship to the world, to others, and to ourselves is never straightforward.

Sartre famously follows Heidegger here and, interestingly, Simone de Beauvoir attempts to base an entire ethics on ambiguity, arguing that we need to accept the latter and, indeed, learn to love our fate: 

"Since we do not succeed in fleeing it, let us, therefore, try to look the truth in the face. Let us try to assume our fundamental ambiguity. It is in the knowledge of the genuine conditions of our life that we must draw our strength to live and our reason for acting."

Ethics, she goes on to say, cannot be based on the mathematical certainty of science and the attempt to think the world and ourselves in such clear and absolute terms invariably leads to fascism and to genocide. It's not grey uncertainty but black-and-white conviction that should trouble us.

Thus we should learn to love those philosophers who privilege the dangerous perhaps; for it expresses not only vagueness concerning the present, but future possibility - which is why, of course, ambiguity is also the basis of creativity.       

Notes:

Joseph Jastrow's duck-rabbit (or, if you prefer, rabbit-duck) illustration originally appeared in 'The Mind's Eye', Popular Science Monthly, Issue 54, (1899), pp. 299-312.

Simone de Beauvoir's, The Ethics of Ambiguity, trans. Bernard Frechtman, (Citadel Press, 1949), can be read online by clicking here.
 
Nietzsche speaks of Philosophen des gefährlichen Vielleicht in Beyond Good and Evil, Pt. 1. 2. 

For a sister post to this one waxing philosophical on insincerity, click here.

Ataraxia (Notes on the Ethics of Pleasure with Reference to the Work of Epicurus and Nietzsche)

Serenity Now - Print by D. Waechter 

DWaechterArt / etsy.com

I. Serenity Now

Ataraxia is an ancient Greek term [ἀταραξία] that refers to an accomplished state of equanimity in which the body is free from pain and the mind is free from any anxiety or distress. 

To achieve this highly valued state of serenity was a desideratum among several schools of philosophy. Sceptics and Stoics alike cherished the concept of ataraxia; as did the followers of Epicurus - and it's the role of ataraxia within the latter's thinking that I wish to discuss here.


II. Two Types of Pleasure

For Epicurus, ataraxia was a crucial component of the good life. It had, therefore, ethical significance as well as psychic import. And the good life? Well, as everybody knows, for Epicurus this is a life that promises happiness. Thus, for Epicureans, ataraxia is understood in relation to a concept of pleasure, which they thought of as either kinetic in nature, or katastematic.

Kinetic pleasure is pleasure that results from an instinctive action and satisfies a need or provides some form of relief; such as eating a bacon double cheeseburger, for example, or engaging in an act of masturbation. The joy that these things produce - which is as much (if not more) mental as it is physical in character - is kinetic.

The problem with such joy is that it's unstable or temporary in character. Thus it's soon followed by new discomfort; one feels a bit sick after eating the bacon double cheeseburger, for example, or perhaps full of guilt after succumbing to a shameful sexual fantasy.    

Katastematic pleasure, on the other hand, was regarded as superior by Epicurus because, once achieved, it was stable and enduring and involved the complete absence of any physical suffering or mental anguish. Those who lived free of the former were said to be a in a state of aponia [ἀπονία], whilst those who lived free of the latter were said to be in a state of ataraxia.

To be free from all pain and to experience uninterrupted pleasure was the key to happiness for Epicurus and thus, as said previously, it had great ethical import. For whilst Christ would later preach Be good and you will be happy, Epicurus understood that this was putting the cart before the horse.

Thus, for this reason if no other, the eudaemonic philosophy of Epicurus is superior to the mistaken moralising of Jesus. Certainly Nietzsche - who would later develop his own joyful wisdom - thought so.


III. Nietzsche and Epicurus

Perhaps not surprisingly, Nietzsche has his own unique take on Epicurus. He agrees that happiness is likely to result in ethical behaviour, but, for Nietzsche, what makes happy is not ataraxia (the absence of any inner turmoil), but the feeling of power [Machtgefühl]. And that's saying something quite different to Epicurus who conceived of power in purely negative terms.

Further, Nietzsche isn't buying into the idea that pleasure can ever be stable and enduring, or the future rendered pain-free. As a tragic philosopher, Nietzsche needs to hold on to a notion of suffering. One of his fundamental insights is that without sickness, violence, and chaos to shake us out of our all-too-human complacency we can never realise our potential as individuals and as a species.

And so whilst he acknowledges that Epicurean happiness is certainly worth struggling for and hard-won, he insists it remains precarious and is ultimately inseparable from the disturbances and discomforts that it seeks to eliminate. The sea of existence may look calm and have sunlight sparkling on its surface, but there's always for Nietzsche a storm over the horizon and monsters of the deep to contend with ...

Note: For an excellent discussion of many of the ideas above, including the influence of Epicurus on Nietzsche's mid-period writings, see Keith Ansell-Person, Nietzsche's Search for Philosophy, (Bloomsbury, 2018). Chapter 6: 'On Nietzsche's Search for Happiness and Joy', is particularly relevant, pp. 135-50. 

See also: Epicurus, The Art of Happiness, ed. and trans. George K. Strodach, (Penguin Books, 2013). 

Note: for a sister post to this one on the garden of Epicurus, click here. 

Morgenröthe: Nietzsche's Red Dawn

Alicia Dunn: Red Dawn No. 5 (2017)

aliciadunnart.com

I. If Passion Ends in Knowledge then Nietzsche is the Best-Read Man in Town

According to Keith Ansell-Pearson, Nietzsche's 1881 work Morgenröthe - usually translated into English as Daybreak or Dawn - is the most neglected of all his texts.*

If that's true, then it's a real shame. For it's a brilliant and beautiful book which illustrates how philosophy is, first and foremost, a form of erotics. For what is the pursuit of knowledge if not a passion, suggests Nietzsche; an intense desire to shatter established patterns of thinking and abandon the fears and consoling fictions that have for the greater part of history reduced man to the status of a herd animal.

Nietzsche anticipates "a new dawn in human existence" in which individuals are free to "cultivate their lives in a manner that is conducive to themselves and beneficent to others" [44]. He proposes ways of becoming who one is that involve thinking differently and, just as importantly, thinking critically with regard to the self. It's philosophy as a playful and experimental practice; what he'll term in his next work die fröhliche Wissenschaft.


II. Say Yes to a Single Joy and You Say Yes to All Woe

Nietzsche completed Daybreak in the Italian city of Genoa. He had by this time retired from his professorship at Basel University due to ill health and was living on a very modest annual pension in an unheated garret. His diet was as restricted as his income and consisted mostly of porridge and risotto, followed by more porridge.

Not only did he have to endure extreme cold and isolation, but Nietzsche spent a lot of his time suffering with blinding headaches that lasted for days at a time and caused him to vomit. His only relief was provided by that solitary vice much favoured by Diogenes, but condemned by Kant as an unnatural form of self-abuse. "And yet", writes Ansell-Pearson, "it was under these harsh conditions that he wrote over the course of a year one of his 'sunniest' books" [65].

And this is why one loves Nietzsche: for the fact that he says Yes to life in all circumstances and under any conditions; affirms, in other words, life as an economy of the whole and gives even the most terrible aspects of existence his blessing. It takes an almost inhuman degree of courage to affirm even a single moment or joy, when it's in the knowledge that by so doing we affirm all eternity and every pain, every sadness, every evil.

In sum: Nietzsche constructs a harsh philosophical ethic not only beyond good and evil, but, as Ansell-Pearson argues, beyond solitude and compassion as well; one that rests upon endurance and cruelty. Free-thinking, as he conceives of it, "will, initially at least, plunge people into despair and grief" [111]. But it results at last in happiness and in greatness.

Obviously, this isn't a philosophy that everyone might choose to live by, or be capable of living by: 

"I think it is clear, both from hints he gives in Dawn and says in other texts, that Nietzsche thinks the tasks of free-spirited thinking are ones reserved, and perhaps best reserved, for a few individuals who will constitute what we might choose to call a moral (or 'immoral') avant-garde." [112]


*Note: Ansell-Pearson reminds us that the original German title literally means 'morning redness' and specifies "the precise but fleeting moment at which the sky is aflame with colour and before the red yields to the customary blue or grey. It suggests a time of possibility, invention, inspiration and renewal, in which the freshness of the day augurs a new way of life." [67] 

See: 

Keith Ansell-Pearson, Nietzsche's Search for Philosophy, (Bloomsbury, 2018). All page numbers given in square brackets refer to this book. 

Nietzsche, Dawn: Thoughts on the Presumptions of Morality, trans. Brittain Smith, (Stanford University Press, 2011). 

Always Pet a Cat When You Encounter One

The mysterious black cat in my backgarden

It would be easy to mock controversial clinical psychologist Jordan Peterson and his 12 Rules for Life; a work in which he offers a series of 'profound and practical principles' that enable readers to combat the suffering and chaos that is intrinsic to human existence and construct meaningful - though not necessarily happy - lives.

Indeed, John Crace has already provided a magnificent spoof of the above in a digested read which appeared in The Guardian shortly after the book's publication in January of this year. I doubt that I could better this comical critique, which, to his credit, even Peterson found very amusing. Nor am I going to try.

Rather, I'm writing here to praise Peterson, whom I admire and respect - even if I don't necessarily share his moral-political views, or his quest to identify eternal truths and archetypal patterns of behaviour.

For one thing, he's very intelligent and very articulate. He also seems to be courageous; a man prepared to take a stand and fight for what he feels to be right, no matter who this might upset or offend. I also think he's good-looking and that always helps. But what really won me over was an experience I had a few days ago with a black cat that came into the garden ...      

She was very friendly and clearly wanted to be stroked; so much so, that she even followed me from the garden into the kitchen, where she allowed herself to be petted (and fed) by the Little Greek. Even my mother - who doesn't feel comfortable around cats or much like animals in general - was charmed by this beautiful stranger who had come visit from out of nowhere and bring a few moments of joy. 

And so, it seems that Peterson's Rule 12: Pet a cat when you encounter one, is worth serious consideration.

I certainly agree that it's often the smallest of things and the briefest of moments that seem to matter most in life - i.e., those redemptive elements of being that spontaneously arise when we least expect them amidst all the relentless horror and suffering and banality of everday existence. Peterson's right: you have to enjoy these soul-sustaining things and opportunities when you can.

Of course, just because he's right here, it doesn't automatically validate or legitimise his other eleven points. But I'll leave it to others, however, to assess the truth value of propositions that include Stand up straight (Rule 1) and Set your house in perfect order before you criticize the world (Rule 6).   

See:

Jordan Peterson, 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos, (Allen Lane, 2018). Click here to watch Peterson discuss Rule 12 concerning the cat with Dave Rubin.

John Crace, '12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos by Jordan B Peterson - digested read', The Guardian (28 Jan. 2018): click here.

Sologamy (With Reference to the Case of Laura Mesi)

 Image Credit: Niño Jose Heredia / Gulf News (2017)

I've been waiting for me to come along - 

And now I've swept myself off my feet!

The case of 40-year-old Italian fitness trainer, Laura Mesi, has brought the subject of sologamy back into the public arena, with many commentators perplexed and angered at the idea of self-marriage ...

Predictably, the charge of narcissism is often made against those who take themselves up the aisle, as if this were the most terrible of all imaginable crimes. Ironically, however, it's a charge that is itself born of narcissism; for the anti-narcissist is essentially objecting to the fact that there are some people who don't find them attractive as a potential spouse and they're offended by that.

Other critics sneer at sologamy as a transparent and profoundly sad attempt by (mostly) single women attempting to rationalise loneliness and justify isolation as an affirmative lifestyle choice; i.e. the ultimate act of individual autonomy and empowerment.          

Personally, I don't see any need for nastiness and hope Laura and all the other self-loving sologamists live happily ever after. However, what interests me more remains the idea of divorcing the self - i.e., of releasing the self from the self [se déprendre de soi-même] as Foucault would say, offering thus a rather amusing definition of freedom.

Ultimately, ethics is not a question of remaining faithful to the self, but, rather, of subjective infidelity; of learning how to answer not I do, but No, I don't, when asked if you wish to have and to hold on to yourself, in sickness and in health, until death do you part.