Tuesday 28 June 2005

Different Goods

Different Goods

There are several quite distinct types of good and bad. There’s good in terms of utility, well suited or well made, then good as in enjoyable or beautiful, the aesthetic kind of good. And of course there’s the moral meaning of good, good and bad behaviour, right and wrong, the ethical good. Of course they’re not mutually exclusive. You could judge, say, the writing of Dickens to be good on all three counts. You might find it beautiful, well made and moral. And there’s even some potential for cross-over. You might see beauty in its morality, or beauty in the way it has been crafted. Nevertheless, such judgement must be rooted in something. Things can’t just be good per se. They must be good in one or more senses of good.

For a variety of reasons humans often like to muddle up these different ‘goods’. We like to tell ourselves we like something for one reason when in fact it’s for another. Some teachers praise the skills or virtues of certain students when in fact they just have a crush on them. Some drinkers refer to some of their drinks as ‘medicinal’ suggesting both moral and practical good, when in fact it’s just good old aesthetic good being pursued, as usual. Some pundits tell us that they support Bush’s ‘War on terror’ because it is a virtuous crusade, when in fact they are just worried that the current system of inequality is under threat. The protection of material luxury, aesthetic good, masquerading as saving the world, virtuous good.

There’s certainly money to be made through this kind of misunderstanding. When I first heard Samantha Fox’s Touch me I told one of my Romford mates how awful it was. “What? So you wouldn’t then?” he replied. It’s a great trick. What are you supposed to say? It’s a completely different subject. But then he hadn’t meant to be facetious. It was the record company’s express intention to blur the two. Never mind the noise, look at the chest.

Stranger still, some people like to paint their favourite forms of entertainment as virtuous. They might tell themselves that travelling in Asia, or smoking dope, or listening to The Clash are active political behaviours, rather than simple pleasures. Usually it’s quite transparent. When people say that a football match was good it’s clear they can only mean good in an entertaining sense, not good in a moral sense. Exasperating as some fanatics might find it, it is only a game. For all the overblown oratory it remains at best entertaining, never righteous. The England world cup win in ‘66 was no moral victory. Regardless of how important this event remains to many Englanders, it really was just some blokes kicking a ball around for a couple of hours.

However, some forms of entertainment do garner astonishing success in managing to pass themselves off as virtuous. Novels and dramas are considered by many to be highly cerebral, highly self-bettering. Radio Four and a multitude of film clubs and book circles push this line, and I used to too. I used to think watching Boy’s from the Black Stuff was a political act, rather than a passive pleasure. I used to tell my self that Scum was an important social document when, like the rest of my peers, I was just titillated by the brutality.

Whatever the moral worth of Brecht or Pinter, the fact remains that most of the material the wittering classes witter about is either morally worthless or downright degenerate. All soap operas and the vast majority of films and novels are pure entertainments, made by people who care not one jot as to the moral impact of their work. It’s just bums on seats. But to listen to the critics you wouldn’t know it. Ms Greer and Mr Parsons seem to see a profound importance in their outpourings, as they deftly probe the minds and lives of non-existent people, all churned out by other great sages to keep their own pots boiling.

Just the same, being a snob, I do think that Radio Three listeners are engaging in a culturally more worthwhile pursuit than those who listen to Radio One, daytime at any rate. But at the end of the day we’re all only in it for the aesthetics. Like football, music’s essentially about pleasure. It’s always a stretch to call it virtuous. We listen because it pleases us, not because it helps others.

Once we clear-up these differences and admit to our real motives an important question arises: What priority should we place on each of these kind of good? Shouldn’t aesthetic good always take second place to ethical good? A morally scrupulous type might say so. They might argue that as long as there is a single hungry child in the world we should forgo all other material pleasures. No beer until everyone has water. No filet mignon until everyone has a bowl of rice. It’s an horrific thought, at least to hedonists, not least because it sounds like the only decent thing to do. Then, thankfully, the other arguments roll in.

For one, practicality. A life without some luxury looks boring, so few people would actually participate. You could even read moral worth into this. Without some pleasure we lose our humanity, become automata. In consequence we may become even less likely to want to assist others. I once heard Terence Conran (I think) use an argument of this kind to defend arts funding. Yes, if we sold all our national treasures then perhaps we could eliminate all NHS waiting lists. But what’s the point in being healthy when there’s no art to enjoy?

But of course that’s an extreme example. At the moment the scales are tipped firmly, and dangerously, in favour of aesthetics. We in the west seem intent on pleasuring ourselves to death. Through a heinous mix of advertising and decades of right wing governance we’ve been trained to think of our pleasures as necessities, rights. We’ve been trained to treat morality with suspicion, a deviation from the true path of greed. For the sake of profit we’ve been encouraged to forsake duty.

Worse still, many of the ‘rights’ we declare for ourselves are the very things that lead to both ethical problems and to unhappiness for the supposed beneficiaries: Our right to drink all day, our right to cheap petrol, cheap food, cheap clothes, cheap air travel. Our right to twenty-four hour television, 4x4s, gambling, hard-core pornography. The very things that are killing us and creating misery for others have become things we’d be honoured to die for. One way or another the scales do need re-calibrating .

Friday 10 June 2005

The difference between the tragedy of war and the outrage of terrorism

The difference between the tragedy of war and the outrage of terrorism

From Harry’s Place, May 17th:

"War and Terrorism
In the midst of some pretty rank letters responding to Madeleine Bunting's article on suicide bombers, someone points out what should be the obvious:

In the muddle linking terrorist suicide bombings with, variously, Soviet and Japanese pilots ramming military targets during the second world war and Christian and Buddhist martyrdom that risked no one else's lives, Ms Bunting misses the reason why such suicide bombings are morally revolting - namely, the intentional slaughter of people who are not legitimate targets of war. Our feelings of horror and moral revulsion do not arise from the means employed, but the targeting of the innocent.
David Guberman
Newton, Massachusetts


Which is why this point in another letter is so wrong:

Is the loss of life due to suicide bombings in Iraq really more shocking than the slaughter in Falluja?

Yes it is.

As David Guberman said: the intentional slaughter of people who are not legitimate targets of war ie innocent civilians, is the difference between the tragedy of war and the outrage of terrorism.

Posted by Harry at 08:31 AM" (His Emphasis)

As I said in '911v Hiroshima', many westerners juggle a very tricky paradox. Like any decent human, they want to make an unequivocal declaration that the taking of innocent human life is wrong, yet at the same time they feel compelled to excuse it in certain circumstances. They’re so besotted with the system that guarantees their own freedom and standard of living that they can’t bring themselves to condemn its acts of savagery. Too much to lose. Through that loophole perhaps a hundred thousand innocent Iraqis have fallen.

The above quote is a good case in point. As uneasy bedfellows, we start with visceral condemnation of the killing of civilians, quite unequivocal, but end in a more ‘statesmanly’ tone, referring to some sort of noble caveat called ‘war’. Clearly the author believes there’s a state of conflict called war which transforms the moral landscape. In a state of war the outrage of killing civilians can become downgraded to mere tragedy. Let’s see what this might mean.

It’s a familiar enough idea, and until you think about it it’s quite hard to argue against: Sometimes the aim of a war can be noble and necessary enough to justify the incidental death of civilians. Sometimes you have to have to kill a few to save the many.

Whatever the universal morality of this idea, the only way it could possibly be moral in action is if certain conditions are met. Firstly, is the aim of the war moral enough to justify these deaths? Righteous warfare can’t just mean any old military objective. You can’t kill civilians just to secure oil supplies, or to terrorise neighbouring countries, heaven forbid. If war is to have some righteous meaning beyond terrorism then it must aim to save lives, and defend freedom. Secondly, before you act you have to ask, is the killing of these civilians the only means of securing your supposed higher goal? Couldn’t you do something else to meet your objective that doesn’t involve killing civilians?

I don’t know whether Harry would endorse the bombing of Hiroshima as a legitimate tactical strategy of its time. Hopefully he’d be horrified at the suggestion. Hiroshima was a clear-cut case of mass-murder. I don’t think anyone would bother arguing it now (though they still did when I was a kid.) To vaporise a city then suggest the dead were collateral to a greater objective is a sick joke. What possible moral objective would justify such an act? What possible horror was prevented, greater than the one carried out?

Problem is, the Coventration of Falluja is a similar case. In terms of ideals, and saving other lives, how did flattening that city help? There was no population with a gun at it’s head that now sleeps safer. Everything’s worse than ever. And as for the second question! Was there nothing else the US could have done? Perhaps they could’ve not flattened Falluja, not tortured detainees, not invaded Iraq and not installed Saddam in the first place? Then they wouldn’t have needed to even consider flattening Falluja. That terrible question would never have arisen.

The second ‘difference’ the correspondent isolates is the deliberate targeting of civilians as the mark of terror rather than war. The implicit argument: However brutal US soldiers might be in Iraq their brutality is only a side-effect of their military objectives. Terrorists on the other hand deliberately set out to maim, and do so for no better reason than getting their political opinion across. They don’t kill while taking a town, they just kill people in the town. All for the sake of publicity, just as propaganda for their cause.

To point out that it has been the US and its clients that have specialised in exactly this sort of operation (for a higher cause, naturally) seems too passé to repeat. It’s all well documented and available to read. Instead let’s take the principle on face value. First, isn’t it the most banal obviousness that when the occupied party in a conflict decides to act violently it will choose psychological rather than conventional military goals? The poor and oppressed don’t have conventional weapons to fight with, they can’t hope to ‘take the town’. If they are to act violently it’s bound to be for publicity’s sake, and bound to target those people they have access to.

Whereas state terror is often the actual means by which people are subjugated and repressed retail terror is usually conducted for the sake of publicity. US war crimes in Falluja are the direct means of gaining control of the city. While they do also hope to terrorise dissenting Iraqis into submission, the last thing they want is for those crimes to be filmed and reported outside. American soldiers perpetrate war crimes for the sake of stealing oil, not to change world opinion. Film of their crimes is a PR disaster. On the other hand, retail terrorism, that of the suicide bomber or online executioner is all about propaganda. The aim is not to kill and steal as quietly as you can, but to be as revolting as possible, as publicly as possible. Which is worse? Damned if I could say.

And besides, this selective repugnance is completely feigned. Whatever means an official enemy uses, it’s always going to be wrong. It’s always going to be emblematic of how evil they are and we aren’t. If the IRA had been militarily strong enough to take the north by force are we supposed to believe that the Daily Express would have looked at them more sympathetically? If the PLO did get hold of some tanks and started pushing Israel out of the occupied territories would they get a better write up in the Jerusalem Post?

And finally, this line:

Is the loss of life due to suicide bombings in Iraq really more shocking than the slaughter in Falluja?

Yes it is.”

In a very literal sense I suppose he’s right. For the majority of western people suicide bombings are more shocking than the razing of Falluja. But that’s only because Falluja goes unreported. If people had the chance to see and hear what’s been going on there I’m sure they would be just as shocked and appalled.

But in the sense he means it, then well sorry, no, it isn’t. As an individual human looking at the world I defend my right to say that I am no more shocked by one or the other. Is it more terrible to blow civilians away for propaganda than for direct military objectives? From the victims perspective I doubt it. Is it easier to cope with the death of your child in the knowledge that the aim of the killers was to take a town, rather than awaken minds to a cause? If you lost your legs in a conventional war, would it provide comfort to know that it was only a collateral consequence rather than the specific aim of your attackers? I don’t think I’d give a damn.

Moreover, when it comes to depravity, which shocks you more? Brutalised, dirt poor Palestinians using improvised explosives to wipe out scores of innocent civilians, or well educated American college kids (so well educated they think Saddam was behind 9-11) using hi-tech weapons to wipe out thousands of innocent civilians? Or how about real-life Beavis and Butthead in an F-16, shouting “boom!” as they fire, and giggling as thirty faint images evaporate from their screen – “Oh, Dude!”. Is that less shocking, less depraved, than a stolen car filled with Semtex? It’s one of the most shocking things I’ve ever seen.

Belsen, Palestine, Falluja, Dresden, there’s no moral distinction, only differences of scale. Humanity at its worst. The most brutal, stupid, vicious of human acts. Yet for some commentators some infanticides are more justifiable than others. That’s the leg pull. It’s Harry and pals who are inconsistent. It’s they that can’t uphold their morality across the board. It’s they who have to excuse some of these acts, because of their other loyalties.