Sunday, October 30, 2011

O tempora! O mores! Part III

Is it a necessary part of growing older that we shake our heads over the times in which we live and those we live among, particularly those who are younger than we are?  I saw an old acquaintance yesterday, and he shared with me his concern regarding these times and our morals, specifically the morals of the often referred to younger generation.

Those concerns were what you would expect them to be, I would think, and seem to be those concerns which have concerned older people regarding younger people for some time, if not throughout the history of our very concerned species.  The young just out of school don't want to work as needed, but just as they like.  They don't believe they have anything more to learn.  They lack discipline and drive.  They are lost.  Their minds are filled with sex and violence by those who manufacture our entertainment and video games.  They don't believe in anything.

Eventually though, it seems they turn into older people who then have similar concerns regarding their children or those who come after them.

Perhaps this is a kind of Jungian race-memory that is activated when we reach a particular age.  Or perhaps we merely are given to complain about youth as our youth slips away, slowly but ever so surely.

It is likely, however, that there is more to be concerned about in these times, which are necessarily ours because they cannot be anyone else's.  There are less jobs available than there were, it seems, so fewer of us will have the opportunity to focus on them to the exclusion of other things.  There are more people, and less resources, than there were.  We are dissatisfied.  Things fall apart, the center cannot hold, mere anarchy, etc.  We've heard that all before as well, haven't we?

Yes.  But it may be that there is more reason to feel that way in our times, because there are more of us, and less of everything else, and it seems that this will become more and more the case.

Something should be done and remarkably it appears we have begun to actually believe something should be done.  As that is the case, it is possible we may even do something, sometime, about it.  But it isn't clear anyone knows what to do, and in fact it seems clear that those we consider our leaders or those who consider themselves our leaders don't know what to do, or are inclined to do nothing which has not been tried in the past.  Here in this Glorious Republic, it's true that our leaders or those who want to be our leaders want to do more of what has been tried in the past, perhaps even much more of what has been tried in the past, but this is not a comforting thought. 

It's probable that we will find ourselves obliged to radically change the manner in which we live by the course of events, as we are never inclined to change our habits or the way we conduct our lives willingly.  But it would make a great deal more sense to adjust ourselves to account for what will soon be a very different world than to allow ourselves to be adjusted forcibly and in what will be an unpleasant manner.

How should we adjust ourselves?  We must acknowledge limitations, and learn to live within them.  Self-control is something we must learn, and that is not something we are inclined to, as we are given to indulge ourselves if we can.  But our opportunities to do so will become fewer and fewer, and the consequences of doing so will become progressively more dire.

Of course, my inclination is to assert that a Stoic point of view is something that we would all benefit from.  We would be well advised to treat certain things as indifferent as those things will become scarce.  We would be well advised to accept that there are things beyond our control and that we should not concern ourselves with them, but rather do the best we can with what we have, what we can control.  We should understand that among the things in our control is our desire for self-indulgence and lust for things, money and power.  Most of all we should learn to respect others and not seek to control or harm them, but let them live their lives in dignity and reasonable comfort.   

If we don't things may fall apart, sooner rather than later.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Death and the Laden

It's more than likely that few will mourn the death of the many-named dictator of Libya, but it seems there are those who regret the manner of his death, if not his death.

I find this puzzling, as those who express concern or outrage on this issue include, it seems to me, many who actively sought his death, and seem to welcome it if not rejoice in it.  It is one of our peculiarities to seek the death of some person and trouble ourselves over the manner of that death.  Kill him, by all means, but do it nicely, we seem to say.

I wonder if this is in part due to a feeling of guilt.  There is no question that what is called the West has been actively trying to kill him for some time now; NATO directly, and these United States "indirectly" at least.  Since our President proclaimed the happy doctrine that waging war does not consist of merely raining bombs and missiles upon people, but requires that we be present on their territory in numbers shooting at them as well, it appears that we may do quite a few things indirectly in the future if we or our President is so inclined.

It would have been much more palatable had he been killed by one of those bombs or missiles, or by one of the aptly titled drones.  We would have been spared the pain of watching him being taunted and manhandled and it seems shot in the head.  I think it must be said that there is something disturbing in the practice of seeking to kill and then shaking our heads in dismay that the killing was not well done, something which renders us uneasy--something unworthy.

That said, it also seems we must acknowledge that there is something unworthy about killing someone, anyone, in a manner which degrades that person, not to mention that person's killers.  Lynchings are not admirable.  One can understand that hatred is earned in some cases, and it seems that the deceased in this case did many things which necessarily caused him to be wildly hated, and this suffices to explain, if not justify, the manner of his death.  What could have been expected if he was captured in these circumstances?  Did we think he would be solemnly and peaceably escorted to a safe place to await a dignified trial?

A reasonable person (we lawyers love to refer to this person) should have anticipated that it could and perhaps would come to this.  So, I'm inclined to feel a certain contempt for those who, supporting his death, noisily declaim that it was wrongly done.  At the same time I can't help but feel a certain regret.  We humans have since ancient times felt that the dead are to be treated with a certain respect, and have in the past at least feared the consequences to us if we did not grant them that respect.  That respect has in some cases at least been deemed appropriately given to a person facing his last moments.  Then again, we have also turned executions into circuses.  They could be a kind of holiday or show not all that long ago.

We are quite willing to be killers, it seems, but would prefer to be gentlemanly killers if at all possible, at least in certain cases.  It's not a very satisfying conclusion in any sense, but may be the only one possible, the only one which fits the facts.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Arms and the Men

I've never had any desire to own or otherwise possess a gun.  I'm not sure why that's the case.  I've fired away at assorted inanimate targets using a handgun or a rifle on occasions in the past.  I was unimpressed by the experience, but perhaps would have liked it had I been better at the doubtless worthy goal of putting holes in cans and bottles.  I've never hunted, as I don't feel any desire to kill animals, especially while in the company of the drunk or hungover who are carrying firearms while wandering about the woods or sitting in a stand waiting for something to move.

Perhaps this is an attitude which separates me from or biases me against those of my countrymen who trumpet the virtues of firearms, or at least their possession, and who consider it a right if not a need to have at least one near at all times.  But the most recent killings by gun-wielding and rather pathetic, hateful examples of the human race make me wonder about the wisdom of expounding this right or indulging this need.

I suppose it is arguable that had someone been present in the salon which was recently made a shooting gallery, a glock concealed on his person, he could have leaped up and done away with the shooter.  I suppose it is possible that had such a person been openly brandishing a weapon it may have deterred the shooter.  But I doubt it, because it appears the killer didn't care much about anything but killing at the time.  My guess, which is admittedly only a guess as I've happily never been involved in a firefight, is that if a number of people have guns and begin firing them while in the same place, the likelihood is that more people will be shot or killed than would be the case if there was only one shooter.

I've never been convinced by the argument that the right to bear arms would somehow preclude the government from prohibiting me from exercising my rights.  I tend to think the government can dispose of me whenever it is so inclined and could do so even if I was armed to the teeth.  It will always be better armed than I can be, and could if it thought it necessary dispatch me with a drone, I suppose, at any moment.

My concern is that those who proclaim the existence of a right to bear arms, regardless of the consequences of having them rather freely available, are among those who would tend to minimize the responsibility which should accompany the exercise of any right.  In other words, they would have the characteristics which I think are common among those who believe in absolutes and who, worse yet, believe themselves qualified to discern and impose absolutes.  I think one of those characteristics is to defer and discourage thought when it comes to the absolute in question.

In a state of this Glorious Republic which recently adopted a law allowing its citizens and others to carry concealed weapons (a law adopted now by all states but one), there has been an outcry by the oddly named National Rifle Association (I've always thought of an association of rifles when I hear that name) and others over the fact that the attorney general of that state has issued rules requiring that those exercising this happy privilege (sorry, "right") must first have undergone four hours of training in the use of the weapon they may carry concealed on their persons.  The basis of the complaint seems to be that by issuing these rules, the attorney general has exceeded his authority.  The attorney general is in other words imposing restrictions on the right, which should be unfettered.

I would think the more reasonable course would be to consider whether such a requirement makes sense.  Should someone carrying a weapon know how to use it?  If not, why not?  If so, how do we determine whether that is the case?  Just what kind of training is needed for such a purpose?  How do we assure the training is given and received?

In determining whether it makes sense, and in determining how any limitation of a right would be reasonable, it is necessary to think and consider the consequences of actions taken.   Those who tend to cherish absolutes, though, are not inclined to consider or impose limitations or contemplate consequences; these are irrelevant if not wrongful in the case of an absolute.

Regrettably, those who cherish absolutes of one kind or another tend to think absolutely, as well.  If they believe they have an absolute right to bear arms, they probably believe they have other absolute rights.  And they probably believe that other people wrong them when they place limits on those absolute rights or appear to do so, and that they have the right to protect those absolute rights by punishing the wrongdoer or preventing him from restricting their absolute right, by any means necessary.

This is not a rant against anyone possessing weapons.  I personally would prefer swords, if we must be allowed to carry weapons of any kind.  They are much more personal, and their use requires real skill and courage.  Fewer people would likely be harmed or killed should anyone find themselves having a need to harm or kill other people; something which seems to happen with some frequency.  It is a criticism, however, of the tendency to eschew the intelligent consideration of consequences and assessment of responsibilities when claimed rights are at issue.



Sunday, October 9, 2011

The Appeal of Santayana

I'm given to speculate regarding just what it is that attracts me to this philosopher, this man who was, I think, more than a philosopher--a kind of Renaissance Man to the extent someone who lived most of his life in the 20th Century can be considered such.  Not "just" a philosopher, but a noted poet and novelist.  I wonder sometimes if there is something of the old Catholic in him which speaks to the old Catholic in me, or something of the Latin in him that speaks to the Latin in me.

He writes so well and in such a fashion I think it's sometimes difficult to think of him as writing philosophy.  He doesn't seem to write of things as a philosopher would, though it is clear that he is engaged in a most piercing analysis of the subject matter he addresses.  Perhaps that in itself is the basis for his appeal.  He seems both rigorous and artful, even artistic, in his approach to things.

In certain ways it seems that his concerns and assertions are contradictory, but I think this is part of a universalism which perhaps may be said to have characterized Catholicism at one point, paganism as well, at one point; that can even be said to have been pretended to by Rome, or dreamt of by it's more noble exponents, like Virgil, who wrote of the skill of the Roman being that of ruling the various and dissimilar nations in peace.  He respects and acknowledges the place of ritual, ceremony, art, mysticism in human life, but he also subjects them to analysis--and thereby elucidates their flaws and limitations--even while honoring them and although he seems to believe that they are necessary aspects of the way we live.  He does the same, I think, to science and philosophy.  He is a proponent of reason but speaks of its limitations as well, and accepts them.

As should be apparent, I find it hard to think of him without thinking of Wallace Stevens' poem about him, To an Old Philosopher in Rome.  In that poem we see glimpses of the Catholic and the Roman, sometimes as day to day appearances and perhaps sometimes more than that.  "Total grandeur of total edifice, Chosen by an inquisitor of structures, For himself...."  It amazes me that such a man should have been so completely devoted to naturalism and yet devoted to those characteristics of humanity and those works of humanity which evoke seemingly the desire if not the claim that there is something more, something greater, than nature.  One feels as if he noted and painstakingly studied what it is to be human in all respects, without bias and even coldly and with no illusions, and yet at the same time appreciative of a certain grandeur or at least the capacity for grandeur.

There is something of the stoic in him, I think, that comes with the acknowledgement of limitations and even to a certain extent the inevitability if not appropriateness of those limitations.  Something of the pragmatist as well, though it seems a very individual pragmatism, more like Peirce than James or Dewey.  Dewey's philosophy was a very social philosophy, and Santayana does not strike me as a social thinker.

But there's something else as well, and I think that something may well be the better, or at least the singular, part of him  I'm finding it very hard to define let alone describe just what that is, though I suspect that if I ever do so I'll have discovered what it is that makes him such a unique and--to me at least--fascinating figure.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Law and Disorder

It's difficult to comment intelligently regarding the curious case of Amanda Knox based solely on what one has read or heard in the media.  The Italian justice system itself seem most curious to an American lawyer, but the case seems peculiar also given the sensational way it has been treated, seemingly by everyone.

It may be the Italians are particularly disturbed by the result and the publicity given the result due to the fact that their system of justice is evidently the target of their own Prime Minister and his supporters.  Their complaints that their system is being unfairly compared to the American system is to a certain extent understandable.  Our system has its own problems, and we have had our share of sensational trials as well.  The comparison of this case to that of O.J. Simpson is inevitable; I'm a bit surprised that Casey Anthony has not yet been mentioned in the media, but perhaps it has been by someone, somewhere, and I'm not aware of it.  The contention that the wealthy benefit more from the law is hardly new, though. 

However, if it is indeed the case the impartial, court-appointed experts (as opposed to experts retained by the state or defendant) found the evidence to be fundamentally unsound, it seems the outcome here is quite understandable.  It isn't clear on what grounds the decision on appeal can be criticized on any legitimate basis.  It doesn't give the victim's family what we have come to call "closure"; it fails to explain some things about the crime; it seems to indicate the police handled the investigation incompetently; it makes the prosecutor appear to be something of a fool.  Regardless, though, it seems to establish that there is inadequate evidence to support conviction.  "Not guilty" does not mean "innocent" of course, but it does (or should) mean not incarcerated.

That should be all that matters, that should be all that is meant, but it is not.  It is being portrayed as much more, even as a clash between two cultures, and may be an indication of the extent to which the United States and its citizens have become hated by the rest of the world for various reasons, not the least of which is its (and their) tendency to throw its (and their) weight around.

I'm inclined to think that Italian males have a view of the female which is somewhat weird.  They are notorious for goosing unsuspecting women on the streets and whistling and commenting, generally making nuisances of themselves in a loutish manner whenever a good looking woman appears.  They seem to think that this is to be expected from them as males, in which case it may be maintained their view of the male is somewhat weird, as well.  A fascinated emphasis on sex seems to have driven certain aspects of the investigation and the prosecution; lurid references to the defendant and her sexuality have abounded to an extent which seems extreme.  This emphasis and conduct seem to me to cast doubt on the way the matter was handled by the police and prosecution; it makes them appear incredible and indeed irrational--the appeal was not to the nature of the evidence but to some kind of fantastic perception of what may have happened.

It strikes me that in certain cases at least, the more attention is given to a trial (and this necessarily means media attention) the less likely it is to result in a fair and reasoned decision.  This raises issues concerning the role of the media and the public in the administration of the justice system.  A democratic system requires that the media and public have access.  But there clearly are instances when they become so directly involved in a trial that all perspective and commitment to ascertaining the truth is lost, by all--lawyers, judges and jurors.  In other words, there are instances when the rights of the media and public conflict with and prejudice not just the rights of the state, but the rights of defendants.  In criminal cases, the rights of the defendant should be paramount, at least under the American system.

Perhaps defendants should have more of a say in the extent to which the media can actively participate in and possibly prejudice a trial.  Perhaps not merely jurors, but lawyers and judges, should be sequestered as much as possible from exposure to the media as well as prevented from making appeals to the media.  I don't know what to propose, but I think that there is a propensity to make a circus of a trial and that this propensity becomes more and more of a problem in these days, when commentary and reaction are instantaneous.