metaphysical_ethical_and_existential_concerns_in_the_threshold [Threshold]

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======'Metaphysical, Ethical and Existential Concerns in the Threshold' by Damien Borne======

=====First Concern: Ascension=====

Jean-Paul Sartre was a 20th-century philosopher known for his key role in the philosophy of //existentialism//. His contributions can be summarised with two ideas: firstly, that humans are //condemned to be free//, and secondly that for humans, //existence precedes essence//. These premises, taken together, mean essentially that there is no external purpose to human existence; we are responsible for our own actions, in full, and for choosing our own purpose and meaning.

But this is a philosophy of life, and I am writing this, for the moment, content with the reality of my own death. What of Sartre’s philosophy, and of existentialism in general, applies in the Threshold? In particular, what can it teach us about the nature of ascension, which is given to us as our purpose by Psychopomp? In life, I considered myself an existentialist; can I still consider myself as such in death?

I will focus first on the idea that //existence precedes essence//. To understand this position, we must consider the converse, that essence precedes existence. Suppose I were to hand a woodworker the blade of a hatchet, and ask them to produce a handle for it. We would expect them, quite naturally, to proceed by measuring - perhaps only by eye, but somehow or other - the size of the blade and the hole in which the handle is to fit, and the size of my own hand. And at this point - before ever beginning to carve, before even selecting the exact wood they wish to use - the woodworker should have a complete understanding of the handle in mind: the size, the shape, the purpose, the form. They could imagine it fitted into the blade, imagine me wielding it. This is the handle’s essence, its nature, and its existence will follow when the woodworker actually produces it.

Thus for a handle, essence precedes existence. The same, it has been claimed, holds true of humans. That is, that we were created to some specific blueprint - made in an image, with a desired purpose and nature. Sartre rejects this notion, because he does not believe in a creator. In life, I too rejected it, and also did not believe in a creator; but I will advance that there is a stronger reason for denying such a claim, one that may be convincing even if you do believe in some divine creator. For both believers of Selca-Clanabe and the Ancients generally hold that the world as a whole, and therefore humanity in particular, was originated by some greater power. But it is evident to all, as a matter of fact, that //humans// are produced by humans; that we are assembled through biological processes. In my time, advances in natural science have expanded our understanding of childbirth, and so confirmed that, if divine power did originate the human species, it need not interfere any more.

And thus, although the essence of humankind as a whole may have preceded its existence, the existence of each individual human must precede their essence, for no mother has in mind the nature and form of their child before they are born. They do not know the colour of their hair, nor how tall or lean they will grow to be, nor how their personality will develop. The child is born - it comes to exist - and //then// gains its essence, its form and purpose. In part this is decided by its heritage; in part by its experience and learning; and, importantly, in part by its own choice, by the decisions it makes.

What does this imply for us in the Threshold? Well, if our existence preceded our essence then, then certainly it must still do so now; the passage of time does not edit the order of past events. So we are, in this regard, in the same state as we were in life. Our existence precedes our essence. And therefore, as Sartre argues, we are responsible for all of our actions. There cannot be, say, some intrinsic human nature, or some higher purpose in our creation, and so we cannot appeal to these to explain or justify our actions.

These considerations bring us neatly to our other key idea, that //humans are condemned to be free//. Because we lack an inherent essence - because we existed before our form and purpose were decided - we have a part in determining our own nature. In fact, ultimately, we have the only part that matters. In life, purpose and meaning are thrust at us from various directions. Our parents might desire us to follow a certain career; our priests might teach us the plans of our chosen deities; our governments and politicians might have a model of a good citizen to which we are meant to conform. In every case, since we already exist, we have a say in the matter, a choice of whether to acquiesce or to resist. Indeed, as our essence is not yet decided, it cannot inform our decision; and so only our free choice can make the final determination. And we cannot escape this: in Sartre’s words, our being is not determined, and so it is up to everyone to create their own existence, for which we are then responsible. Thus we are condemned to freedom.

This is perhaps the most important lesson of Sartre’s teachings, and I would like to take a moment to note that in my own works, I considered it to subsume the first. For suppose that you do not accept that human existence precedes our essence. Suppose you are not satisfied with my argument, and believe that you were created, as an individual, by some higher power, in a specific predetermined image. Even then, //essence changes//. As you move through life, your personality, form and desires shift with your experiences and decisions. So you may have begun life with some external purpose, but at every step it is your choice whether to actually pursue it - after all, you could simply ignore it. And if you do choose as such, then //you are responsible for that choice//, just as you would be responsible for, as a somewhat grotesque example, murder, even if your parents had instructed you to commit it. One might argue that it is not their place to dissent from a divinely ordained mission, and this may be true - the ‘right’ choice might be to submit to the divine will - but this itself is a choice, because it is at least physically possible for them to decide that it is their place to ask such questions. 

Again I ask, to what extent does this apply in the Threshold? And again I answer that our deaths change little. Whatever else is true of our new existence, we can //choose//. We have free will, and as argued above our existence still precedes our essence, and so in every case we are responsible for our actions and for defining our own existence. We may well decide to take external sources of purpose for our own - we may well believe that it is right to do so - but still it is our own choice. Still we have to take responsibility for it. And if we were somehow to be wrong, if we discovered we had been deceived, then we could not turn the blame outwards; we made the choice to believe, to have faith, to pursue some certain goal, and our choices are only and solely our responsibility.

So we come to the subject of ascension, the title of this essay. As mentioned in the introduction, ascension is an example of an external purpose. Psychopomp and its employees tell us that our goal here is to seek ascension, indeed that the Threshold itself exists for that purpose. And some among us seem to have assumed that ascension is the goal ordained for them by higher powers in which they believed in life. As in life, however, we are condemned to freedom. Whatever we believe about ascension, we can choose whether to pursue it or not, and either way we are responsible for doing so. Even if one believes Psychopomp’s claims, that we were brought here in order to ascend, we do not need to take it as our purpose. We might well reject the authority of whoever delivered us here - even if they are divine in nature - and fix ourselves ahead on a goal of our own choosing.

Whatever decision we make, we are responsible for creating our own essence, and for the consequences that follow. Nothing about the nature of the Threshold changes that. We are free to be whoever we choose to be, and cannot pass on the choice to an external source - because in doing so, the choice is made. We may, for example, blindly follow the advice of Psychopomp, but we should be aware that this is a decision we have made, and we alone will be responsible for the results.

In practice, it is imperative to note that by its very nature we have no way to verify the results of ascension. We are told, vaguely, that what follows is ‘good’, that it is something worth seeking, but we have no way to confirm this. And as far as we know, neither does Psychopomp. Perhaps the most pressing question of our current existence, in my opinion, is how Psychopomp claims to know anything about the consequences of ascension. Do they even claim to have strong evidence, regardless for the moment of whether we could reproduce it, or are they simply guessing? Either way, if you choose to consent to the purpose they desire for you, then you are doing so purely on the basis of Psychopomp’s claim to authority. This is of course a choice you can make - after all, you are condemned to be free. But you should be aware that it is a choice you are making, and that you are responsible for it, and that if it hurts yourself, or another, then it is you that has caused that suffering. 

You should also be aware that, even if you believe that what follows ascension is desirable, you do not have to desire it. A rich chocolate cake is often desirable, particularly if it is cheap and I have no fears as to my weight, but I have every right to decide not to want it. This holds even if I have no strong alternatives, such as an equally delicious victoria sponge; I have the choice to simply pass by such opportunities, because I am condemned to be free, and to decide my own essence. And so too with ascension. You might be convinced that it is something worth seeking, and still choose not to seek it, in favour of other purposes. Of art, perhaps, or philosophy, or friends, or simply existence. Importantly, if you do choose to seek it, this is again your responsibility; that ascension is desirable does not independently justify desiring it.

As a final word, I will say that Sartre sees much of what I have discussed in this essay in a rather pessimistic light. He holds that a man truly aware of his own freedom should be //anguished// by it, by his complete and total responsibility for his actions and purpose. There is certainly a comfort in having your life decided for you, at least if you view the decider benevolently. It means you need not worry as to the consequences of your choices; you need never feel as though you have made a mistake. But I see it differently. Freedom to choose your own purpose means you are not limited. You can be, as mentioned above, whoever you choose to be, do as you choose to do. You are free to find your own place in this world, as in the last, and I find that beautiful.

===== Second Concern: Morality =====

Suppose, while walking quite innocently through town, you were to come upon a stranger (call them Sam) who stops, squints at you, and then announces, “I should hurt you.” You might, perchance, stop and stare at them in surprise for a moment; after all, it is a rather strange thing to be told. But suppose they were then to continue, while drawing a blade, “I don’t particularly want to, you see, and I’ve got nothing to gain from it - I don’t want your money or such. It would just be immoral of me to pass you by without hurting you.”

I expect most people would, quite rightly, be put out by this. Depending on your constitution, you could remind Sam that such a thing would be illegal, and they’d be liable to be punished, or inform them that you are willing and able to defend yourself. Yet to each objection they respond simply, “Yes, it’s terrible. I’ve got to try, though - it’s my moral duty, and I consider myself an ethical fellow.”

This may seem a rather fanciful scenario, but I believe it cuts right to the heart of some of the key issues facing us in the Threshold today. Just two weeks ago, our gathering was interrupted by the destruction of the Psychopomp tower. The culprits came forward willingly, the process of the act was freely explained - and yet when it came to cast judgement, there was great disagreement from various quarters. Some felt that they should not be punished, others that they should, but by differing methods. Another two weeks before that, a new inhabitant of our block was stabbed, and before even that one of our longest inhabitants was beheaded. These are all the typical subjects of morality, and all acts that would in general be considered wrong, at least in life. As we form our burgeoning new society in the wake of these events, it seems prudent to discuss our approach to them more closely.

Later in this essay I would like to give my own approach to ethics, if only in the spirit of open communication. First, however, I will discuss a more important question - how should we discuss ethics in general? Is it possible to reach a consensus on ethical problems starting from disparate positions? And so we return to the example I gave earlier. Sam’s moral beliefs seem, to me at least, alien. Certainly were I confronted by them I would want to disagree with their assertion that they have a moral duty to harm me - and not just out of a desire to remain unharmed. When I consider how I would feel if I merely witnessed them making this assertion to someone else, another stranger, I think that I would still find myself disagreeing (although whether I would intervene is another question - I hope I would).

Evidently, then, there is some contradiction between our moral views. What are we to make of this disagreement? There are really only two options - either there is some objectively correct answer, in which case at least one of us is outright wrong in our belief, or there is not, and we simply hold different opinions on the issue. If we take the first view, then the resolution of the disagreement is, in theory, simple: me and Sam should sit down and deduce morality from first principles, and then apply it to our situation to find which, if either, of us is correct. Of course in practice I might find it quite difficult to convince someone of that, but at that point the problem is simply a logistical one.

Those who subscribe to the second view are termed ‘subjectivists’, and I imagine that a fair number of those reading this essay would, after some reflection, fall under that label. A truly committed subjectivist should hold that Sam is, in fact, entirely within their rights to hold the view that they should hurt me, because morality is fundamentally a matter of opinion. I might disagree, or even find their beliefs distasteful, but this is the same kind of disagreement as if Sam claimed that red is the best colour, and I disagreed, citing that green is better.

But this need not mean that there is nothing I could say to Sam to convince them, rationally, to change their beliefs. Suppose for example that they claimed that red is the best colour, but continued, “...because it’s the colour of the sky!” Here, Sam has no particular attachment to red as a colour, but instead has subjectively decided that they think whatever colour the sky is is the best colour. Unfortunately, they are under a misconception that the sky is red. Were I to take them outside and show them that it is, in fact, blue - and supposing that they stuck to their original belief that the colour of the sky is the best colour - they would then believe that blue is the best colour.

Again, a rather fanciful example, but again I hope to emphasise a key aspect of this issue. Crucially, even our subjective beliefs are often based on evidence and reason. Instead of deciding them all independently, regardless of context, we form more fundamental intuitions and opinions, and build up from them to the choices we make in our day-to-day lives. This, I think, is particularly true in the case of morality. If you were to ask almost anyone why they hold the moral beliefs that they do, they generally would not reply simply that they chose them arbitrarily. Instead, they would begin some explanation, perhaps based on religion, or on the law or societal convention. With some pressing, they might be able to provide you with a principle from which their moral judgments follow - of justice, or duty, or compassion, or divine law.

Of course there are some people who have given little thought to ethics at all, and who decide their actions based solely on intuition. Even with such people, their intuitions will have formed from the culture in which they’ve grown up, the teachings of the people they respect, and so on; and from these we can extract a rough set of rules that they follow.

Once we know the fundamental principles from which those around us make their moral decisions, we can begin to negotiate, to seek for common ground. If our principles are similar but we’ve come to different conclusions about a certain situation, we should check whether we both know all the facts; it might be that one of us has missed some key detail, which once explained will resolve our disagreement. If, on the other hand, our principles are contradictory, we might be able to come to a compromise.

In the case of Sam, I can imagine dozens of reasons for them to have reached the moral conclusions that they have. It might be that the thought that they should hurt me struck them at random, and they chose to commit to it on a whim; in that case there is little that words can do to help, for you cannot reason someone out of a position they did not reason themselves into. On the other hand, Sam might believe that they should hurt me because they have been led to believe, for some reason or another, that I want to be hurt. In such a case all that I need to do is put right their incorrect empirical beliefs, like when I showed them that the sky was in fact blue, and I will be able to go on uninjured.

Applying this to the situation which currently faces us, it seems that there are many different, contradictory moral principles at play in our block. There are those that believe that using force to attempt to drive change is ethically justified in our circumstances - perhaps they would not use the word ‘ethical’, but they believe that it was permissible, or reasonable, for them to do so, and this amounts to the same thing - and there are those who believe that it is not. There are differences in views of how we should enforce justice and the rule of law, and even whether we should. I think that it is in all of our interests to come to some kind of accord, given that we cannot easily leave each others’ company. And in this essay, I have described a path to achieve exactly that. Even for those reading this who hold an objectivist position, unless you can provide a convincing argument for it, the most pragmatic approach is to learn about the principles of the other residents of the block, and attempt to reach a compromise.

With that said, as promised above, I will make clear the principles that guide my own actions, in the hopes of starting an open conversation and removing any mystery from my decisions. I am what I consider to be a utilitarian, meaning that the only principle upon which I make moral choices is the principle of utility, that I should act in whichever manner maximises happiness and minimises suffering, for everyone. I think those are still highly relevant considerations in the Threshold. Although we cannot die, nor hunger or thirst, we can feel pain and oppression, and conversely happiness and freedom. We all seek for the latter, and avoid the former; and I see no good reason to put my own such desires ahead of the desires of others. Thus I try to act such that everyone can be as free and happy as possible, and to prevent suffering. And I believe I am morally right to act in such a manner.

I leave you with these questions: how do you believe it is morally right for you and others to act? Why? What principles, if any, do you derive your moral choices from? Are you prepared to compromise with others, with the aim of upholding your morality as far as possible?