Logic and Critical Thinking (Reading)

ETHR 1021

Logic and Critical Thinking

                                 
                                                             

 

AUW summer 2020

ETHR 1021

Logical and Critical Thinking Course Reader

Table of Contents

 

Reading                                                                                                    Pages

 

Plato, “Allegory of the Cave”                                                                                1 - 3

 

Descartes, Rene. “Meditation VI: Of the Existence of Material Things, and of the           4 - 6

Real Distinction between the Mind and Body of Man”

 

Excerpts from Christian philosophy, The Bible, “The Sermon on the Mount”                          7 - 10

 

Excerpts from Islamic philosophy, “The Five Pillars of Islam”                                        11 - 12

 

Excerpts from Buddhist philosophy, “The Four Noble Truths” and “The Fire Sermon”  13 - 15

 

Douglas, Mary. “An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo”                          16 - 19

 

King, Jr., Martin Luther. “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”                                               20 - 23

 

Gandhi, Mohandas and Henry David Thoreau. “On Civil Disobedience” and “On the              24 - 25

Duty of Civil Disobedience”

 

“John Stuart Mill: Utilitarianism”                                                                          26 – 29

 

“Immanuel Kant: Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals”                                         30 - 33

 

Buber, Martin. “I and Thou”                                                                                 34 - 35

 

Krishnamurthi, Jiddu. Excerpt from On Education                                               36 - 38

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Allegory of the Cave

(Abridged from Plato The Republic VII 514a trans. Desmond Lee)

 

Socrates spoke. ‘I want you to picture the enlightenment or ignorance of our human condition somewhat as follows. Imagine an underground chamber like a cave, with a long entrance open to the daylight and as wide as the cave. In this chamber are men who have been prisoners there since they were children, their legs and necks being so fastened that they can only look straight ahead of them and cannot turn their heads. Some way off, behind and higher up, a fire is burning, and between the fire and the prisoners and above them runs a road, in front of which a curtain-wall has been built, like the screen at puppet shows between the operators and their audience, above which they show their puppets. Imagine further that there are men carrying all sorts of gear along behind the curtain-wall, projecting above it and including figures of men and animals made of wood and stone and all sorts of other materials, and that some of these men, as you would expect, are talking and some not.’

 

Glaucon responded, ‘An odd picture and an odd sort of prisoner.’

 

‘They are drawn from life,’ I replied. ‘For, tell me, do you think our prisoners could see anything of themselves or their fellows except the shadows thrown A conversation between Socrates and Glaucon by the fire on the wall of the cave opposite them?’

 

Then Glaucon asked, ‘How could they see anything else if they were prevented from moving their heads all their lives?’     

 

‘And would they see anything more of the objects carried along the road?’

 

‘Of course not.’

 

‘Then if they were able to talk to each other, would they not assume that the shadows they saw were the real things?’

‘Inevitably.’

I continued, ‘And if the wall of their prison opposite them reflected sound, don’t you think that they would suppose, whenever one of the passers-by on the road spoke, that the voice belonged to the shadow passing before them? And so in every way they would believe that the shadows of the objects we mentioned were the whole truth.’

Glaucon answered, ‘Yes, inevitably.’

I posed a question to him, ‘Then think what would naturally happen to them if they were released from their bonds and cured of their delusions. Suppose one of them were let loose, and suddenly compelled to stand up and turn his head and look and walk towards the fire; all these actions would be painful and he would be too dazzled to see properly the objects of which he used to see the shadows. What do you think he would say if he was told that what he used to see was so much empty nonsense and that he was now nearer reality and seeing more correctly, because he was turned towards objects that were more real, and if on top of that he were compelled to say what each of the passing objects was when it was pointed out to him? Don’t you think he would be at a loss, and think that what he used to see was far truer than the objects now being pointed out to him?’

 

‘Yes, far truer.’ Glaucon nodded in agreement

 

‘And if he were made to look directly at the light of the fire, it would hurt his eyes and he would turn back and retreat to the things which he could see properly, which he would think really clearer than the things being shown him.’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘And if,’ I went on, ‘he were forcibly dragged up the steep and rugged ascent and not let go till he had been dragged out into the sunlight, the process would be a painful one, to which he would much object, and when he emerged into the light his eyes would be so dazzled by the glare of it that he wouldn’t be able to see a single one of the things he was now told were real. Because, of course, he would need to grow accustomed to the light before he could see things in the upper world outside the cave. First he would find it easiest to look at shadows, next at the reflections of men and other objects in water, and later on at the objects themselves. After that he would find it easier to observe the heavenly bodies and the sky itself at night, and to look at the light of the moon and stars rather than at the sun and its light by day.’

 

‘Of course.’

 

‘The thing he would be able to do last would be to look directly at the sun itself, and gaze at it without using reflections in water or any other medium, but as it is in itself. Later on he would come to the conclusion that it is the sun that produces the changing seasons and years and controls everything in the visible world, and is in a sense responsible for everything that he and his fellow-prisoners used to see. And when he thought of his first home and what passed for wisdom there, and of his fellow-prisoners, don’t you think he would congratulate himself on his good fortune and be sorry for them?’

 

‘Very much so.’

 

‘There was probably a certain amount of honour and glory to be won among the prisoners, and prizes for keen-sightedness for those best able to remember the order of sequence among the passing shadows and so be best able to divine their future appearances. Will our released prisoner hanker after these prizes or envy this power or honour? Won’t he be more likely to feel, as Homer says, that he would far rather be “a serf in the house of some landless man”, or indeed anything else in the world, than hold the opinions and live the life that they do?’ ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘he would prefer anything to a life like theirs.’ ‘Then what do you think would happen,’ I asked, ‘if he went back to sit in his old seat in the cave? Wouldn’t his eyes be blinded by the darkness, because he had come in suddenly out of the sunlight? And if he had to discriminate between the shadows, in competition with the other prisoners, while he was still blinded and before his eyes got used to the darkness – a process that would take some time – wouldn’t he be likely to make a fool of himself? And they would say that his visit to the upper world had ruined his sight, and that the ascent was not worth even attempting. And if anyone tried to release them and lead them up, they would kill him if they could lay hands on him.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“MEDITATION VI: OF THE EXISTENCE OF MATERIAL THINGS, ANDOF THE REAL DISTINCTION BETWEEN THE MIND AND BODY OF MAN” – Rene Descartes (1641 CE)

 

1. THERE now only remains the inquiry as to whether material things exist. With regard to this question, I at least know with certainty that such things may exist, in as far as they constitute the object of the pure mathematics, since, regarding them in this aspect, I can conceive them clearly and distinctly. For there can be no doubt that God possesses the power of producing all the objects I am able distinctly to conceive, and I never considered anything impossible to him, unless when I experienced a contradiction in the attempt to conceive it aright. Further, the faculty of imagination which I possess, and of which I am conscious that I make use when I apply myself to the consideration of material things, is sufficient to persuade me of their existence: for, when I attentively consider what imagination is, I find that it is simply a certain application of the cognitive faculty (facultas cognoscitiva) to a body which is immediately present to it, and which therefore exists…

 

6. Firstly, then, I perceived that I had a head, hands, feet and other members composing that body which I considered as part, or perhaps even as the whole, of myself. I perceived further, that that body was placed among many others, by which it was capable of being affected in diverse ways, both beneficial and hurtful; and what was beneficial I remarked by a certain sensation of pleasure, and what was hurtful by a sensation of pain. And besides this pleasure and pain, I was likewise conscious of hunger, thirst, and other appetites, as well as certain corporeal inclinations toward joy, sadness, anger, and similar passions. And, out of myself, besides the extension, figure, and motions of bodies, I likewise perceived in them hardness, heat, and the other tactile qualities, and, in addition, light, colors, odors, tastes, and sounds, the variety of which gave me the means of distinguishing the sky, the earth, the sea, and generally all the other bodies, from one another. And certainly, considering the ideas of all these qualities, which were presented to my mind, and which alone I properly and immediately perceived, it was not without reason that I thought I perceived certain objects wholly different from my thought, namely, bodies from which those ideas proceeded; for I was conscious that the ideas were presented to me without my consent being required, so that I could not perceive any object, however desirous I might be, unless it were present to the organ of sense; and it was wholly out of my power not to perceive it when it was thus present. And because the ideas I perceived by the senses were much more lively and clear, and even, in their own way, more distinct than any of those I could of myself frame by meditation, or which I found impressed on my memory, it seemed that they could not have proceeded from myself, and must therefore have been caused in me by some other objects; and as of those objects I had no knowledge beyond what the ideas themselves gave me, nothing was so likely to occur to my mind as the supposition that the objects were similar to the ideas which they caused. And because I recollected also that I had formerly trusted to the senses, rather than to reason, and that the ideas which I myself formed were not so clear as those I perceived by sense, and that they were even for the most part composed of parts of the latter, I was readily persuaded that I had no idea in my intellect which had not formerly passed through the senses. Nor was I altogether wrong in likewise believing that that body which, by a special right, I called my own, pertained to me more properly and strictly than any of the others; for in truth, I could never be separated from it as from other bodies; I felt in it and on account of it all my appetites and affections, and in fine I was affected in its parts by pain and the titillation of pleasure, and not in the parts of the other bodies that were separated from it. But when I inquired into the reason why, from this I know not what sensation of pain, sadness of mind should follow, and why from the sensation of pleasure, joy should arise, or why this indescribable twitching of the stomach, which I call hunger, should put me in mind of taking food, and the parchedness of the throat of drink, and so in other cases, I was unable to give any explanation, unless that I was so taught by nature; for there is assuredly no affinity, at least none that I am able to comprehend, between this irritation of the stomach and the desire of food, any more than between the perception of an object that causes pain and the consciousness of sadness which springs from the perception. And in the same way it seemed to me that all the other judgments I had formed regarding the objects of sense, were dictates of nature; because I remarked that those judgments were formed in me, before I had leisure to weigh and consider the reasons that might constrain me to form them.

 

7. But, afterward, a wide experience by degrees sapped the faith I had reposed in my senses; for I frequently observed that towers, which at a distance seemed round, appeared square, when more closely viewed, and that colossal figures, raised on the summits of these towers, looked like small statues, when viewed from the bottom of them; and, in other instances without number, I also discovered error in judgments founded on the external senses; and not only in those founded on the external, but even in those that rested on the internal senses; for is there aught more internal than pain? And yet I have sometimes been informed by parties whose arm or leg had been amputated, that they still occasionally seemed to feel pain in that part of the body which they had lost, --a circumstance that led me to think that I could not be quite certain even that any one of my members was affected when I felt pain in it. And to these grounds of doubt I shortly afterward also added two others of very wide generality: the first of them was that I believed I never perceived anything when awake which I could not occasionally think I also perceived when asleep, and as I do not believe that the ideas I seem to perceive in my sleep proceed from objects external to me, I did not any more observe any ground for believing this of such as I seem to perceive when awake; the second was that since I was as yet ignorant of the author of my being or at least supposed myself to be so, I saw nothing to prevent my having been so constituted by nature as that I should be deceived even in matters that appeared to me to possess the greatest truth. And, with respect to the grounds on which I had before been persuaded of the existence of sensible objects, I had no great difficulty in finding suitable answers to them; for as nature seemed to incline me to many things from which reason made me averse, I thought that I ought not to confide much in its teachings. And although the perceptions !of the senses were not dependent on my will, I did not think that I ought on that ground to conclude that they proceeded from things different from myself, since perhaps there might be found in me some faculty, though hitherto unknown to me, which produced them…

 

15. But there are many other beliefs which though seemingly the teaching of nature, are not in reality so, but which obtained a place in my mind through a habit of judging inconsiderately of things. It may thus easily happen that such judgments shall contain error: thus, for example, the opinion I have that all space in which there is nothing to affect [or make an impression on] my senses is void: that in a hot body there is something in every respect similar to the idea of heat in my mind; that in a white or green body there is the same whiteness or greenness which I perceive; that in a bitter or sweet body there is the same taste, and so in other instances; that the stars, towers, and all distant bodies, are of the same size and figure as they appear to our eyes, etc…

 

16. But I have already sufficiently considered how it happens that, notwithstanding the supreme goodness of God, there is falsity in my judgments. A difficulty, however, here presents itself, respecting the things which I am taught by nature must be pursued or avoided, and also respecting the internal sensations in which I seem to have occasionally detected error, [and thus to be directly deceived by nature]: thus, for example, I may be so deceived by the agreeable taste of some viand with which poison has been mixed, as to be induced to take the poison. In this case, however, nature may be excused, for it simply leads me to desire the viand for its agreeable taste, and not the poison, which is unknown to it; and thus we can infer nothing from this circumstance beyond that our nature is not omniscient; at which there is assuredly no ground for surprise, since, man being of a finite nature, his knowledge must likewise be of a limited perfection…

17. But we also not unfrequently err in that to which we are directly impelled by nature, as is the case with invalids who desire drink or food that would be hurtful to them. It will here, perhaps, be alleged that the reason why such persons are deceived is that their nature is corrupted; but this leaves the difficulty untouched, for a sick man is not less really the creature of God than a man who is in full health; and therefore it IS as repugnant to the goodness of God that the nature of the former should be deceitful as it is for that of the latter to be so. And as a clock, composed of wheels and counter weights, observes not the less accurately all the laws of nature when it is ill made, and points out the hours incorrectly, than when it satisfies the desire of the maker in every respect; so likewise if the body of man be considered as a kind of machine, so made up and composed of bones, nerves, muscles, veins, blood, and skin, that although there were in it no mind, it would still exhibit the same motions which it at present manifests involuntarily…

 

18. But certainly, although in respect of a dropsical body, it is only by way of exterior denomination that we say its nature is corrupted, when, without requiring drink, the throat is parched; yet, in respect of the composite whole, that is, of the mind in its union with the body, it is not a pure denomination, but really an error of nature, for it to feel thirst when drink would be hurtful to it: and, accordingly, it still remains to be considered why it is that the goodness of God does not prevent the nature of man thus taken from being fallacious.

 

19. To commence this examination accordingly, I here remark, in the first place, that there is a vast difference between mind and body, in respect that body, from its nature, is always divisible, and that mind is entirely indivisible. For in truth, when I consider the mind, that is, when I consider myself in so far only as I am a thinking thing, I can distinguish in myself no parts, but I very clearly discern that I am somewhat absolutely one and entire; and although the whole mind seems to be united to the whole body, yet, when a foot, an arm, or any other part is cut off, I am conscious that nothing has been taken from my mind; nor can the faculties of willing, perceiving, conceiving, etc., properly be called its parts, for it is the same mind that is exercised [all entire] in willing, in perceiving, and in conceiving, etc. But quite the opposite holds in corporeal or extended things; for I cannot imagine any one of them [how small so ever it may be], which I cannot easily sunder in thought, and which, therefore, I do not know to be divisible. This would be sufficient to teach me that the mind or soul of man is entirely different from the body, if I had not already been apprised of it on other grounds.

 

 

 

 

“The Sermon on the Mount”

Adapted from Matthew, Chapters 5 – 7, from the Christian Bible

 

 

When Jesus saw the crowds of people there, he went up on a hill and sat down. His followers came and sat next to him. ² Then Jesus began teaching the people. He said:

³ “Great blessings belong to those who know they are spiritually in need.^[a] God’s kingdom belongs to them.
⁴ Great blessings belong to those who are sad now. God will comfort them.
⁵ Great blessings belong to those who are humble. They will be given the land God promised. ^[b]
6 Great blessings belong to those who want to do right more than anything else.^[c] God will fully satisfy them.
⁷ Great blessings belong to those who show mercy to others. Mercy will be given to them.
⁸ Great blessings belong to those whose thoughts are pure. They will be with God.
⁹ Great blessings belong to those who work to bring peace. God will call them his sons and daughters.
¹⁰ Great blessings belong to those who suffer persecution for doing what is right. God’s kingdom belongs to them.

¹¹ “People will insult you and hurt you. They will lie and say all kinds of evil things about you because you follow me. But when they do that, know that great blessings belong to you. ¹² Be happy about it. Be very glad because you have a great reward waiting for you in heaven. People did these same bad things to the prophets who lived before you.

¹³ “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its taste, it cannot be made salty again. Salt is useless if it loses its salty taste. It will be thrown out where people will just walk on it.

¹⁴ “You are the light that shines for the world to see. You are like a city built on a hill that cannot be hidden. ¹⁵ People don’t hide a lamp under a bowl. They put it on a lamp stand. Then the light shines for everyone in the house. ¹⁶ In the same way, you should be a light for other people. Live so that they will see the good things you do and praise your Father in heaven.

¹⁷ “Don’t think that I have come to destroy the Law of Moses or the teaching of the prophets. I have come not to destroy their teachings but to give full meaning to them. ¹⁸ I assure you that nothing will disappear from the law until heaven and earth are gone. The law will not lose even the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter until it has all been done.

¹⁹ “A person should obey every command in the law, even one that does not seem important. Whoever refuses to obey any command and teaches others not to obey it will be the least important in God’s kingdom. But whoever obeys the law and teaches others to obey it will be great in God’s kingdom. ²⁰ I tell you that you must do better than the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. If you are not more pleasing to God than they are, you will never enter God’s kingdom.

²¹ “You have heard that it was said to our people long ago, ‘You must not murder anyone. ^[d] Any person who commits murder will be judged.’²² but I tell you, don’t be angry with anyone. If you are angry with others, you will be judged. And if you insult someone, you will be judged by the high court. And if you call someone a fool, you will be in danger of the fire of hell.

²³ “So, what if you are offering your gift at the altar and remember that someone has something against you? ²⁴ Leave your gift there and go make peace with that person. Then come and offer your gift.

²⁵ “If anyone wants to take you to court, make friends with them quickly. Try to do that before you get to the court. If you don’t, they might hand you over to the judge. And the judge will hand you over to a guard, who will throw you into jail. ²⁶ I assure you that you will not leave there until you have paid everything you owe.

²⁷ “You have heard that it was said, ‘You must not commit adultery.’^[e]28 But I tell you that if a man looks at a woman and wants to sin sexually with her, he has already committed that sin with her in his mind. ²⁹ If you’re right eye makes you sin, take it out and throw it away. It is better to lose one part of your body than to have your whole body thrown into hell. ³⁰ If your right hand makes you sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.

³¹ “It was also said, ‘Any man who divorces his wife must give her a written notice of divorce.’^[f] 32 But I tell you that any man who divorces his wife, except for the problem of sexual sin, is causing his wife to be guilty of adultery. And whoever marries a divorced woman is guilty of adultery.

³³ “You have heard that it was said to our people long ago, ‘When you make a vow, you must not break your promise. Keep the vows that you make to the Lord.’^[g] 34 But I tell you, when you make a promise, don’t try to make it stronger with a vow. Don’t make a vow using the name of heaven, because heaven is God’s throne. ³⁵ Don’t make a vow using the name of the earth, because the earth belongs to him.^[h] Don’t make a vow using the name of Jerusalem, because it also belongs to him, the great King. ³⁶ And don’t even say that your own head is proof that you will keep your promise. You cannot make one hair on your head white or black. ³⁷ Say only ‘yes’ if you mean ‘yes,’ and say only ‘no’ if you mean ‘no.’ If you say more than that, it is from the Evil One.

³⁸ “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’^[i] 39 But I tell you, don’t fight back against someone who wants to do harm to you. If they hit you on the right cheek, let them hit the other cheek too. ⁴⁰ If anyone wants to sue you in court and take your shirt, let them have your coat too. ⁴¹ If a soldier forces you to walk with him one mile, ^[j] go with him two. ⁴² Give to anyone who asks you for something. Don’t refuse to give to anyone who wants to borrow from you.

⁴³ “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor^[k] and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I tell you, love your enemies. Pray for those who treat you badly. ⁴⁵ If you do this, you will be children who are truly like your Father in heaven. He lets the sun rise for all people, whether they are good or bad. He sends rain to those who do right and to those who do wrong. ⁴⁶ If you love only those who love you, why should you get a reward for that? Even the tax collectors do that. ⁴⁷ And if you are nice only to your friends, you are no better than anyone else. Even the people who don’t know God are nice to their friends. ⁴⁸ What I am saying is that you must be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.

6 “Be careful! When you do something good, don’t do it in front of others so that they will see you. If you do that, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.

² “When you give to those who are poor, don’t announce that you are giving. Don’t be like the hypocrites. When they are in the synagogues and on the streets, they blow trumpets before they give so that people will see them. They want everyone to praise them. The truth is, that’s all the reward they will get. ³ So when you give to the poor, don’t let anyone know what you are doing.^[l] 4 Your giving should be done in private. Your Father can see what is done in private, and he will reward you.

⁵ “When you pray, don’t be like the hypocrites. They love to stand in the synagogues and on the street corners and pray loudly. They want people to see them. The truth is, that’s all the reward they will get.⁶ But when you pray, you should go into your room and close the door. Then pray to your Father. He is there in that private place. He can see what is done in private, and he will reward you.

⁷ “And when you pray, don’t be like the people who don’t know God. They say the same things again and again. They think that if they say it enough, their god will hear them. ⁸ Don’t be like them. Your Father knows what you need before you ask him. ⁹ So this is how you should pray:

‘Our Father in heaven,
    we pray that your name will always be kept holy.
¹⁰ We pray that your kingdom will come—
    that what you want will be done here on earth, the same as it is in heaven.
¹¹ Give us the food we need for today.
¹² Forgive our sins,
    just as we have forgiven those who did wrong to us.
¹³ Don’t let us be tempted,
    but save us from the Evil One.’^[m]

¹⁴ Yes, if you forgive others for the wrongs they do to you, then your Father in heaven will also forgive your wrongs. ¹⁵ But if you don’t forgive others, then your Father in heaven will not forgive the wrongs you do.

¹⁶ “When you fast, don’t make yourselves look sad like the hypocrites. They put a look of suffering on their faces so that people will see they are fasting. The truth is, that’s all the reward they will get. ¹⁷ So when you fast, wash your face and make yourself look nice. ¹⁸ Then no one will know you are fasting, except your Father, who is with you even in private. He can see what is done in private, and he will reward you.

¹⁹ “Don’t save treasures for you here on earth. Moths and rust will destroy them. And thieves can break into your house and steal them. ²⁰ Instead, save your treasures in heaven, where they cannot be destroyed by moths or rust and where thieves cannot break in and steal them. ²¹ Your heart will be where your treasure is.

²² “The only source of light for the body is the eye. If you look at people and want to help them, you will be full of light. ²³ But if you look at people in a selfish way, you will be full of darkness. And if the only light you have is really darkness, you have the worst kind of darkness.^[n]

²⁴ “You cannot serve two masters at the same time. You will hate one and love the other, or you will be loyal to one and not care about the other. You cannot serve God and Money^[o] at the same time.

²⁵ “So I tell you, don’t worry about the things you need to live—what you will eat, drink, or wear. Life is more important than food, and the body is more important than what you put on it. ²⁶ Look at the birds. They don’t plant, harvest, or save food in barns, but your heavenly Father feeds them. Don’t you know you are worth much more than they are? ²⁷ You cannot add any time to your life by worrying about it.

²⁸ “And why do you worry about clothes? Look at the wildflowers in the field. See how they grow. They don’t work or make clothes for themselves. ²⁹ But I tell you that even Solomon, the great and rich king, was not dressed as beautifully as one of these flowers. ³⁰ If God makes what grows in the field so beautiful, what do you think he will do for you? It’s just grass—one day it’s alive, and the next day someone throws it into a fire. But God cares enough to make it beautiful. Surely he will do much more for you. Your faith is so small!

³¹ “Don’t worry and say, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ ³² That’s what those people who don’t know God are always thinking about. Don’t worry, because your Father in heaven knows that you need all these things. ³³ What you should want most is God’s kingdom and doing what he wants you to do. Then he will give you all these other things you need. ³⁴ So don’t worry about tomorrow. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Tomorrow will have its own worries.

7 “Don’t judge others, and God will not judge you. ² If you judge others, you will be judged the same way you judge them. God will treat you the same way you treat others.

³ “Why do you notice the small piece of dust that is in your friend’s eye, but you don’t notice the big piece of wood that is in your own?⁴ Why do you say to your friend, ‘Let me take that piece of dust out of your eye’? Look at yourself first! You still have that big piece of wood in your own eye. ⁵ You are a hypocrite! First, take the wood out of your own eye. Then you will see clearly to get the dust out of your friend’s eye.

⁶ “Don’t give something that is holy to dogs. They will only turn and hurt you. And don’t throw your pearls to pigs. They will only step on them.

⁷ “Continue to ask and God will give to you. Continue to search, and you will find. Continue to knock, and the door will open for you. ⁸ Yes, whoever continues to ask will receive? Whoever continues to look will find. And whoever continues to knock will have the door opened for them.

⁹ “Do any of you have a son? If he asked for bread, would you give him a rock? ¹⁰ Or if he asked for a fish, would you give him a snake? Of course not! ¹¹ You people are so bad, but you still know how to give good things to your children. So surely your heavenly Father will give good things to those who ask him.

¹² “Do for others what you would want them to do for you. This is the meaning of the Law of Moses and the teaching of the prophets.

¹³ “You can enter true life only through the narrow gate. The gate to hell is very wide, and there is plenty of room on the road that leads there. Many people go that way. ¹⁴ But the gate that opens the way to true life is narrow. And the road that leads there is hard to follow. Only a few people find it.

¹⁵ “Be careful of false prophets. They come to you and look gentle like sheep. But they are really dangerous like wolves. ¹⁶ You will know these people because of what they do. Good things don’t come from people who are bad, just as grapes don’t come from thornbushes, and figs don’t come from thorny weeds. ¹⁷ In the same way, every good tree produces good fruit, and bad trees produce bad fruit. ¹⁸ A good tree cannot produce bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot produce good fruit.¹⁹ Every tree that does not produce good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. ²⁰ You will know these false people by what they do.^[p]

²¹ “Not everyone who calls me Lord will enter God’s kingdom. The only people who will enter are those who do what my Father in heaven wants.²² On that last Day many will call me Lord. They will say, ‘Lord, Lord, by the power of your name we spoke for God. And by your name we forced out demons and did many miracles.’ ²³ Then I will tell those people clearly, ‘Get away from me, you people who do wrong. I never knew you.’

²⁴ “Whoever hears these teachings of mine and obeys them is like a wise man who built his house on rock. ²⁵ It rained hard, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house. But it did not fall because it was built on rock.

²⁶ “Whoever hears these teachings of mine and does not obey them is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. ²⁷ It rained hard, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house. And it fell with a loud crash.”

²⁸ When Jesus finished speaking, the people were amazed at his teaching. ²⁹ He did not teach like their teachers of the law. He taught like someone who has authority.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Five Pillars of Islam

From Culture and Values: A Survey of the Humanities, edited by Lawrence S. Cunningham, John J. Reich, and Lois Fichner-Rathus

 

The fundamental principle of the faith of Islam is a bedrock monotheism (the word Islam means “submission [to God]”). This belief was a conscious rejection of not only the polytheism that Muhammad found throughout the Arabian peninsula, but also of the Christian doctrine of the Trinity of persons in God. Muhammad articulated the Five Pillars – the core values – of Islam:

 

·        Recitation of the Muslim act of faith that there is one God and that Muhammad is his messenger.

·        The obligation to pray five times a day in a direction that points to the Ka’bah in Mecca. Soon there was added the obligation to participate in Friday prayers as a community and hear a sermon.                          Mosaic of the Great Mosque at Damascus, circa 700-715 A.D. 

·        Donation of a portion of the surplus of one’s wealth to charity.

·        Observance of a fast during the Holy month of Ramadan – abstinence from all food and drink from sunrise to sunset.

·        The duty to make a pilgrimage to Mecca (called a hajj) at least once in a lifetime.

 

That final obligation was performed by Muhammad around the purified and restored Ka’bah in 632 CE, which was the same year he died in the arms of his wife. The pilgrimage to Mecca today draws millions of Muslims.

 

In addition to these core practices, there are other characteristic practices of Islam: Like Jews, Muslims do not eat pork products. Unlike Jews and Christians, Muslims are forbidden to consume alcoholic beverages. Again as with Jews, Muslim males are circumcised. Polygamy is permitted under Islamic law but not practiced universally. The taking of interest on loans or lending for interest (usury) is forbidden by Islamic law, as it was at one point by Christian law (today both Christian nations and most Islamic nations participate in international banking systems). Over the course of time, a cycle of feast days and observances developed (for example, the birthday of the Prophet).

 

 

The Life of Muhammed

 

Muhammad, the founder of Islam, was born in 570 CE in the Arabian city of Mecca. Orphaned as a child and raised in poverty, while still young he married a rich widow with whom he had a daughter, Fatima. Fatima would later marry the first Imam (authoritative religious leader) of the Shiites. An ancestor of followers of Islam, Fatima is highly venerated by Muslims as a model of piety and purity. Muhammad’s deep religious nature led him to ponder the reasons for his good fortune, and he began to retreat into caves in the neighboring mountains to meditate. Muslims believe that at about the age of 40, he began receiving revelations from God through the agency of the angel Gabriel. When he began to speak publicly about his ideas of religious reform, Muhammad soon encountered severe opposition from the citizens of Mecca, who had little patience with his sermons against the city’s polytheism and his insistence on the worship of one god.

 

As Muhammad preached and the numbers of his followers grew, a number of them were tortured and killed. The antagonism between Muhammad and local clansmen became so great that Muhammad fled the city to a desert oasis – now called Medina (“City of the Prophet”) – in 622 CE. This date marks the beginning of Islam and the first year in the Islamic calendar.

 

Muhammad returned to Mecca in 630 CE, eight years later, with several thousand soldiers. He defeated the polytheisis, converted the population to Islam, removed the statues of Arabian tribal gods that were housed in a small square building – called the Ka‘bah, or “cube” in Arabic – and rededicated it as an Islamic house of worship. On pilgrimages to Mecca today, Muslims circle the Ka‘bah, which is the spiritual center of their world.

 

 

Reading from The Qur’an (translated by Mohammed Marmaduke Pickthall, 1930)

Sura 1, the Opening, revealed at Mecca

 

In the name of Allah, the Beneficient, the Merciful,

Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds,

The Beneficent, the Merciful,

Owner of the Day of Judgment,

Thee (alone) we worship; Thee (alone) we ask for help.

Show us the straight path,

The path of those whom Thou have favored;

Not (the path) of those who earn Thine anger nor of those who go astray

 

 

Reading from Rabi‘ah al-Adawiyah al-Qaysiyya

From Mystics of Islam, translated by Margaret Smith, 1950

 

Rabi‘ah al-Adawiyah al-Qaysiyya lived from 717 to 801 CE, and was a Sufi mystic who believed that a highly developed love of God was the key to uniting with him. Kidnapped and sold into slavery as a child, she became convinced that she wa one of God’s chosen ones after being granted freedom by her master. Rabia expressed her philosophy of divine love in a series of aphorisms, poems, and meditations inspired by verses in the Qur’an that spoke of Allah’s concern for his people and the corresponding love they should have for him. Like many mystics, Rabia expressed her feelings in the form of poetry. She believed that with Allah as the central focus in one’s life, nothing else mattered, not even fear of damnation or hope of paradise.

 

1                   I carry a torch in one hand

And a bucket of water in the other:

With these things I am going to set fire to Heaven

And put out the flames of Hell

So that voyagers to God can rip the veils

And see the real goal.

2                   O my Lord,

If I worship you

From fear of hell, burn me in hell.

If I worship you

From hope of Paradise, bar me from its gates,

But if I worship you

For yourself alone, grant me then the beauty of your Face.

3                   O my Lord,

The stars glitter

And the eyes of men are closed.

Kings have locked their doors

And each lover is alone with his love.

Here, I am alone with you.

Buddhism

The Four Noble Truths

(from Culture and Values: A Survey of the Humanities, Vol. 1 by Lawrence S. Cunningham, John J. Reich, and Lois Fichner-Rathus)

 

Prince Siddhartha Gautama was born to wealth. His father, a king, sought to protect him from the miseries of the world and kept him sheltered. He married a beautiful woman and had a son. But then he came upon the world outside and witnessed suffering in the forms of poverty, hunger, violence, and disability.

 

Gautama left the chains of comfort to search for enlightenment as to why suffering existed and how it could be ended. He tried conventional forms of meditation and they accomplished nothing. He tried asceticism (giving up all material comforts). He and five followers starved themselves on the banks of the Nairanjana River for six years, but then he discovered that austerity would not lead to wisdom. His followers were disgusted by his apparent failure and deserted him.

 

He moved toward the village of Senani, where he was offered milk by a Brahmin girl and a mat from a grass cutter. The Buddha-to-be seated himself beneath a pipal tree, where he resolved to remain until he found enlightenment – from within. His body might shrivel, he declared. His skin, flesh, and bones might dissolve. But he would not move.

 

Myth would have it that Mara, the Lord of Illusion, was threatened by Gautama’s imminent enlightenment and sought to distract him. Gautama touched the earth, calling upon it to bear witness to the countless cycles of death and rebirth – reincarnation – that had led him to this place. The earth shook to confirm his assertion, and Mara unleashed demons. An epic battle ensued, during which Gautama finally saw through illusion and perceived truth. The weapons of the demons were transformed into flowers and Mara fled.

 

There was no claim of revelation or divine inspiration as in Western religions. For Gautama, now the Buddha (the Englightened One), and four noble truths had come from within:

 

One: Life is suffering (dukkha) we may feel happy for a while, but happiness is transitory. At some point we experience pain, decay, and all-pervasive suffering. Death is not a cure because of reincarnation: we will be born into a different body, but that body will also suffer.

 

Two: The causes of suffering are attachment, anger, and ignorance. We are attached to sweets, to life itself. Harming others will recoil into harming ourselves. Ignorance? Reality is not as it seems, and realization of ultimate truth is difficult.

 

Three: Suffering can end if we enter nirvana, a state beyond suffering. Suffering is dependent on the state of the mind; by changing the way one perceives the world and the self, one can end suffering.

 

Four: One can help others and end suffering via the eightfold path:

By avoiding jealousy, the desire to harm others, and wrong views (right thought)

By avoiding lying, harsh speech, and gossip (right speech)

By avoiding killing, stealing, and sexual transgressions (right actions)

By making a living without hurting others, lying, or committing crimes (right livelihood)

By developing wisdom (right understanding)

By persevering in our endeavors (right effort)

By focusing on the “here and now,” not what was or what might be (right mindfulness), and

By maintaining a calm, attentive state of mind (right concentration)

The Fire Sermon

The Third Sermon of the Buddha

Compiled and edited by Anagarika Tevijjo

 

 

Conversion of Kassapa, the Fire-Worshiper

 

 “At that time there lived in Uruvela the Jatilas, Brahman hermits with matted-hair, worshiping the fire and keeping a fire-dragon; and Kassapa was their chief. Kassapa was renowned throughout all India, and his name was honored as one of the wisest men on earth and an authority on religion.

 

And the Blessed One went to Kassapa of Uruvela the Jatila, and said: "Let me stay a night in the room where you keep your sacred fire." Kassapa, seeing the Blessed One in his majesty and beauty, thought to himself: "This is a great muni and a noble teacher. Should he stay overnight in the room where the sacred fire is kept, the serpent will bite him and he will die."

 

And he said: "I do not object to your staying overnight in the room where the sacred fire is kept, but the serpent lives there; he will kill you and I should be sorry to see you perish."

 

But the Buddha insisted and Kassapa admitted him to the room where the sacred fire was kept. And the Blessed One sat down with body erect, surrounding himself with watchfulness. In the night the dragon came, belching forth in rage his fiery poison, and filling the air with burning vapor, but could do him no harm, and the fire consumed itself while the World-honored One remained composed.

 

And the venomous fiend became very wroth so that he died in his anger. When Kassapa saw the light shining forth from the room he said: "Alas, what misery! Truly, the countenance of Gotama the great Sakyamuni is beautiful, but the serpent will destroy him."

 

In the morning the Blessed One showed the dead body of the fiery fiend to Kassapa, saying:

"His fire has been conquered by my fire." And Kassapa thought to himself. "Sakyamuni is a great samana and possesses high powers, but he is not holy like me."

 

There was in those days a festival, and Kassapa thought: "The people will come hither from all parts of the country and will see the great Sakyamuni. When he speaks to them, they will believe in him and abandon me." And he grew envious. When the day of the festival arrived, the Blessed One retired and did not come to Kassapa. And Kassapa went to the Buddha on the next morning and said: "Why did the great Sakyamuni not come?"

 

The Tathagata replied: "Didst thou not think, O Kassapa, that it would be better if I stayed away from

the festival?" And Kassapa was astonished and thought: "Great is Sakyamuni; he can read my most secret thoughts, but he is not holy like me."

 

The Blessed One addressed Kassapa and said: "Thou seest the truth, but acceptest it not because of the envy that dwells in thy heart. Is envy holiness? Envy is the last remnant of self that has remained in thy mind. Thou art not holy, Kassapa; thou hast not yet entered the path." And Kassapa gave up his resistance. His envy disappeared, and, bowing down before the Blessed One, he said: "Lord, our Master, let me receive the ordination from the Blessed One."

 

And the Blessed One said: "Thou, Kassapa, art chief of the Jatilas. Go, then, first and inform them of thine intention, and let them do as thou thinkest fit." Then Kassapa went to the Jatilas and said: "I am anxious to lead a religious life under the direction of the great Sakyamuni, who is the Enlightened One, the Buddha. Do as ye think best."

 

The Jatilas replied: ‘We have conceived a profound affection for the great Sakyamuni, and if thou

wilt join his brotherhood, we will do likewise." The Jatilas of Uruvela now flung their paraphernalia of fire-worship into the river and went to the Blessed One.

 

Nadi Kassapa and Gaya Kassapa, brothers of the great Uruvela Kassapa, powerful men and chieftains among the people, were dwelling below on the stream, and when they saw the instruments used in fire-worship floating in the river, they said: "Something has happened to our brother. And they came with their folk to Uruvela. Hearing what had happened, they, too, went to the Buddha.

 

The Blessed One, seeing that the Jatilas of Nadi and Gaya, who had practiced severe austerities and worshiped fire, were now come to him, preached a sermon on fire, and said:

 

"Everything, O Jatilas, is burning. The eye is burning, all the senses are burning, are thoughts burning. They are burning with the fire of lust. There is anger, and there is ignorance, there is hatred, and as long as the fire finds flammable things upon which it can feed, so long will it burn, and there will be birth and death, decay, grief, lamentation, suffering, despair, and sorrow.

 

“Considering this, a disciple of the Dharma will see the four noble truths and walk in the eightfold path of holiness. He will become wary of his eye, wary of all his senses, wary of his thoughts. He will divest himself of passion and become free. He will be delivered from selfishness and attain the blessed state of Nirvana."

 

And the Jatilas rejoiced and took refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mary Douglas

 

Purity

and Danger

 

AN ANALYSIS

OF THE CONCEPTS OF

POLLUTION AND TABOO

 

_______

 

     Before we start to think about ritual pollution we must go down in sack-cloth and ashes and scrupulously re-examine our own ideas of dirt. Dividing them into their parts, we should distinguish any elements which we know to be the result of our recent history.

     There are two notable differences between our contemporary European ideas of defilement and those, say, of primitive cultures. One is that dirt avoidance for us is a matter of hygiene or aesthetics and is not related to our religion. I shall say more about the specialization of ideas which separates our notions of dirt from religion in Chapter 5 (Primitive Worlds). The second difference is that our idea of dirt is dominated by the knowledge of pathogenic organisms. The bacterial transmission of disease was a great nineteenth-century discovery. It produced the most radical revolution in the history of medicine. So much has it transformed our lives that it is difficult to think of dirt except in the context of pathonogenicity. Yet obviously our ideas of dirt are not so recent. We must be able to make the effort to think back beyond the last 100 years and to analyse the bases of dirt-avoidance, before it was transformed by bacteriology; for example, before spitting deftly into a spittoon was counted unhygienic.

     If we can abstract pathonogenicity and hygiene from our notion of dirt, we are left with the old definition of dirt as matter out of place. This is a very suggestive approach. It implies two conditions: a set of ordered relations and a contravention of that order. Dirt then, is never a unique, isolated event. Where there is dirt there is system. Dirt is the by-product of a systematic ordering and classification of matter, in so far as ordering involves rejecting inappropriate elements. This idea of dirt takes us straight into the field of symbolism and promises a link-up with more obviously symbolic systems of purity.

     We can recognize in our own notions of dirt that we are using a kind of omnibus compendium which includes all the rejected elements of ordered systems. It is a relative idea. Shoes are not dirty in themselves, but it is dirty to place them on the dining-table; food is not dirt in itself, but it is dirty to leave cooking utensils in the bedroom, or food bespattered on clothing; similarly, bathroom equipment in the drawing room; clothing lying on chairs; out-door things in-doors; upstairs things downstairs; under-clothing appearing where over-clothing should be, and so on. In short, our pollution behavior is the reaction which condemns any object or idea likely to confuse or contradict cherished classifications.

     We should now force ourselves to focus on dirt. Defined in this way it appears as a residual category, rejected from our normal scheme of classifications. IN trying to focus on it we run against our strongest mental habit. For it seems that whatever we perceive is organized into patterns for which we, the perceivers, are largely responsible. Perceiving is not a matter of passively allowing an organ – say of sight or hearing – to receive a ready-made impression from without, like a palette receiving a spot of paint. Recognizing and remembering are not matters of stirring up old images of past impressions. It is generally agreed that all our impressions are schematically determined from the start. As perceivers we select from all the stimuli falling on our senses only those which interest us, and our interests are governed by a pattern-making tendency, sometimes called schema (see Bartlett, 1932). In a chaos of shifting impressions, each of us constructs a stable world in which objects have recognizable shapes, are located in depth, and have permanence. In perceiving we are building, taking some cues and rejecting others. The most acceptable cues are those which fit most easily into the pattern that is being built up. Ambiguous ones tend to be treated as if they harmonized with the rest of the pattern. Discordant ones tend to be rejected. If they are accepted the structure of assumptions has to be modified. As learning proceeds objects are name. Their names then affect the way they are perceived next time: once labeled they are more speedily slotted into the pigeon-holes in future.

     As time goes on and experiences pile up, we make a greater and greater investment in our system of labels. So a conservative bias is built in. It gives us confidence. At any time we may have to modify our structure of assumptions to accommodate new experience, but the more consistent experience is with the past, the more confidence we can have in our assumptions. Uncomfortable facts which refuse to be fitted in, we find ourselves ignoring or distorting so that they do not disturb these established assumptions. By and large anything we take note of is pre-selected and organized in the very act of perceiving. We share with other animals a kind of filtering mechanism which at first only lets in sensations we know how to use.

     But what about the other ones? What about the possible experiences which do not pass the filter? Is it possible to force attention into less habitual tracks? Can we even examine the filtering mechanism itself?

     We can certainly force ourselves to observe things which our schematizing tendencies have caused us to miss. It always gives a jar to find our first facile observation at fault. Even to gaze steadily at distorting apparatus makes some people feel physically sick, as if their own balance was attacked. Mrs. Abercrombie put a group of medical students through a course of experiments designed to show them the high degree of selection we use in the simplest observations. ‘But you can’t have all the world a jelly,’ one protested. ‘It is as though my world has been cracked open,’ said another. Others reacted in a more strongly hostile way (p. 131).

     But it is not always an unpleasant experience to confront ambiguity. Obviously it is more tolerable in some areas than in others. There is a whole gradient on which laughter, revulsion, and shock belong at different points and intensities. The experience can be stimulating. The richness of poetry depends on the use of ambiguity, as Empson has shown. The possibility of seeing a sculpture equally well as a landscape or as a reclining nude enriches the work’s interest. Ehrenzweig has even argued that we enjoy works of art because they enable us to go behind the explicit structures of our normal experience. Aesthetic pleasure arises from the perceiving of inarticulate forms.

     I apologise for using anomaly and ambiguity as if they were synonymous. Strictly they are not: an anomaly is an element which does not fit a given set or series; ambiguity is a character of statements capable of two interpretations. But reflection on examples shows that there is very little advantage in distinguishing between these two terms in their practical application. Treacle is neither liquid nor solid; it could be said to give an ambiguous sense-impression. We can also say that treacle is anomalous in the classification of liquids and solids, being in neither one nor the other set.

 

Granted that disorder spoils pattern, it also provides the material of pattern. Order implies restriction; from all possible materials, a limited selection has been made and from all possible relations a limited set has been used. So disorder by implication is unlimited, no pattern has been realized in it, but its potential for patterning is indefinite. This is why, though we seek to create order, we do not simply condemn disorder. We recognize that it is destructive to existing patterns, also that it has potentiality. It symbolizes both danger and power.

     Ritual recognizes the power of disorder. In the disorder of the mind, in dreams, faints and frenzies, ritual expects to find powers and truths which cannot be reached by conscious effort. Energy to command and special powers of healing come to those who can abandon rational control for a time. Sometimes an Andaman Islander leaves his band and wanders in the forest like a madman. When he returns to his senses and to human society he has gained occult power of healing (Radcliffe-Brown, 1933, p. 139). This is a very common notion, widely attested. Webster in his chapter on the Making of a Magician (The Sociological Study of Magic), gives many examples. I also quote the Ehanzu, a tribe in the central region of Tanzania, where one of the recognised ways of acquiring a diviner’s skill is by going mad in the bush. Virginia Adam, who worked among this tribe, tells me that their ritual cycle culminates in annual rain rituals. If at the expected time rain fails, people suspect sorcery. To undo the effects of sorcery they take a simpleton and send him wandering into the bush. In the course of his wanderings he unknowingly destroys the sorcerer’s work.

     In these beliefs there is a double play on inarticulateness. First there is a venture into the disordered regions of the mind. Second there is the venture beyond the confines of society. The man who comes back from the inaccessible regions brings with him a power not available to those who have stayed in the control of themselves and of society.

     This ritual play on articulate and inarticulate forms is crucial to understanding pollution. In ritual form it is treated as if it were quick with power to maintain itself in being, yet always liable to attack. Formlessness is also credited with powers, some dangerous, some good. We have seen how the abominations of Leviticus are the obscure unclassifiable elements which do not fit the pattern of the cosmos. They are incompatible with holiness and blessing. The play on form and formlessness is even more clear in the rituals of society.

     First, consider beliefs about persons in a marginal state. These are people who are somehow left out in the patterning of society, who are placeless. They may be doing nothing morally wrong, but their status is indefinable. Take, for example, the unborn child. Its present position is ambiguous, its future equally. For no one can say what sex it will have or whether it will survive the hazards of infancy. It is often treated as both vulnerable and dangerous. The Lele regard the unborn child and its mother as in constant danger, but they also credit the unborn child with capricious ill-will which makes it a danger to others. When pregnant, a Lele woman tries to be considerate about not approaching sick persons lest the proximity of the child in her womb causes coughing or fever to increase.

     Among the Nyakyusa a similar belief is recorded. A pregnant woman is thought to reduce the quantity of grain she approaches, because the foetus in her is voracious and snatches it. She must not speak to people who are reaping or brewing without first making a ritual gesture of goodwill to cancel the danger. They speak of the foetus ‘with jaws agape’ snatching food, and explain it by the inevitability of the ‘seed within’ fighting the ‘seed without.’

 

‘The child in the belly…is like a witch; it will damage food like witchcraft; beer is spoiled and tastes nasty, food does not grow, the smith’s iron is not easily worked, the milk is not good.’

 

Even the father is endangered at war or in the hunt by his wife’s pregnancy (Wilson, pp. 138-9).

     Levy-Bruhl noted that menstrual blood and miscarriage sometimes attract the same kind of belief. The Maoris regard menstrual blood as the sort of human being manqué. If the blood had not flowed it would have become a person, so it has the impossible status of a dead person that has never lived. He quoted common belief that a foetus born prematurely has a malevolent spirit, dangerous to the living (pp. 390-6). Levy-Bruhl did not generalize that danger lies in marginal states, but Van Gennep had more sociological insight. He saw society as a house with rooms and corridors in which passage from one to another is dangerous. Danger lies in transitional states, simply because transition is neither one state nor the next, it is undefinable. The person who must pass from one to another is himself in danger and emanates danger to others. The danger is controlled by ritual which precisely separates him from his old status, segregates him for a time and then publicly declares his entry to his new status. Not only is transition itself dangerous, but also the rituals of segregation are the most dangerous phase of the rites. So often do we read that boys die in initiation ceremonies, or that their sisters and mothers are told to fear for their safety, or that they used in the old days to die from hardship or fright, or by supernatural punishment for their misdeeds. Then somewhat tamely come the accounts of the actual ceremonies which are so safe that the threats of danger sound like a hoax (Vansina, 1955). But we can be sure that the trumped-up dangers express something important about marginality. To say that the boys risk their lives says precisely that to go out of the formal structure and to enter the margins is to be exposed to power that is enough to kill them or make their manhood. The theme of death and rebirth, of course, has other symbolic functions: the initiates die to their old life and are reborn to the new. The whole repertoire of ideas concerning pollution and purification are used to mark the gravity of the event and the power of ritual to remake a man – this is straightforward.

     During the marginal period which separates ritual dying and ritual rebirth, the novices in initiation are temporarily outcast. For the duration of the rite they have no place in society. Sometimes they actually go to live far away outside it. Sometimes they live near enough for unplanned contacts to take place between full social beings and the outcasts. Then we find them behaving like dangerous criminal characters. They are licensed to waylay, steal, rape. This behavior is even enjoined on them. To behave anti-socially is the proper expression of their marginal condition (Webster, 1908, chapter III). To have been in the margins is to have been in contact with danger, to have been at a source of power. It is consistent with the ideas about form and formlessness to treat initiands coming out of seclusion as if they were themselves charged with power, hot, dangerous, requiring insulation and a time for cooling down. Dirt, obscenity and lawlessness are as relevant symbolically to the rites of seclusion as other ritual expressions of their condition. They are not to be blamed for misconduct any more than the fetus in the womb for its spite and greed.

     It seems that if a person has no place in the social system and is therefore a marginal being; all precaution against danger must come from others. He cannot help his abnormal situation. This is roughly how we ourselves regard marginal people in a secular, not a ritual context. Social workers in our society, concerned with the after-care of ex-prisoners, report a difficulty on resettling them in steady jobs, a difficulty which comes from the attitude of society at large. A man who has spent any time ‘inside’ is put permanently ‘outside’ the ordinary social system. With no rite of aggregation which can definitively assign him to a new position he remains in the margins, with other people who are similar credited with unreliability, unteachability, and all the wrong social attitudes. The same goes for persons who have entered institutions for the treatment of mental disease. So long as they stay at home their peculiar behavior is accepted. Once they have been formally classified as abnormal, the very same behavior is counted intolerable. A report on a Canadian project in 1951 to change the attitude to mental ill-health suggests that there is a threshold of tolerance marked by entry to a mental hospital. If a person has never moved out of society into this marginal state, any of his eccentricities are comfortably tolerated by his neighbors. Behavior which a psychologist would class at once as pathological is commonly dismissed as ‘Just a quirk’, or ‘He’ll get over it’, or ‘It takes all sorts to make a world’. But once a patient is admitted to a mental hospital, tolerance is withdrawn. Behavior which was formerly judged to be so normal that the psychologist’s suggestions raised strong hostility was now judged to be abnormal (quoted in Cumming). So mental health workers find exactly the same problems in rehabilitating their discharged patients as do the prisoners’ aid societies. The fact that these common assumptions about ex-prisoners and lunatics are self-validating is not relevant here. It is more interesting to know that marginal status produces the same reactions the world over, and that these are deliberately represented in marginal rites.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Letter from a Birmingham Jail”

Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

16 April 1963

My Dear Fellow Clergymen:

While confined here in the Birmingham city jail, I came across your recent statement calling my present activities "unwise and untimely." Seldom do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would have little time for anything other than such correspondence in the course of the day, and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will and that your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I want to try to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

I think I should indicate why I am here in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the view which argues against "outsiders coming in." I have the honor of serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, an organization operating in every southern state, with headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. We have some eighty five affiliated organizations across the South, and one of them is the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. Frequently we share staff, educational and financial resources with our affiliates. Several months ago the affiliate here in Birmingham asked us to be on call to engage in a nonviolent direct action program if such were deemed necessary. We readily consented, and when the hour came we lived up to our promise. So I, along with several members of my staff, am here because I was invited here. I am here because I have organizational ties here.

But more basically, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the prophets of the eighth century B.C. left their villages and carried their "thus saith the Lord" far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to the far corners of the Greco Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my own home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid.

Moreover, I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial "outside agitator" idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its bounds.

You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city's white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.

In any nonviolent campaign there are four basic steps: collection of the facts to determine whether injustices exist; negotiation; self purification; and direct action. We have gone through all these steps in Birmingham. There can be no gainsaying the fact that racial injustice engulfs this community. Birmingham is probably the most thoroughly segregated city in the United States. Its ugly record of brutality is widely known. Negroes have experienced grossly unjust treatment in the courts. There have been more unsolved bombings of Negro homes and churches in Birmingham than in any other city in the nation. These are the hard, brutal facts of the case. On the basis of these conditions, Negro leaders sought to negotiate with the city fathers. But the latter consistently refused to engage in good faith negotiation.

Then, last September, came the opportunity to talk with leaders of Birmingham's economic community. In the course of the negotiations, certain promises were made by the merchants--for example, to remove the stores' humiliating racial signs. On the basis of these promises, the Reverend Fred Shuttles worth and the leaders of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights agreed to a moratorium on all demonstrations. As the weeks and months went by, we realized that we were the victims of a broken promise. A few signs, briefly removed, returned; the others remained. As in so many past experiences, our hopes had been blasted, and the shadow of deep disappointment settled upon us. We had no alternative except to prepare for direct action, whereby we would present our very bodies as a means of laying our case before the conscience of the local and the national community. Mindful of the difficulties involved, we decided to undertake a process of self purification. We began a series of workshops on nonviolence, and we repeatedly asked ourselves: "Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?" "Are you able to endure the ordeal of jail?" We decided to schedule our direct action program for the Easter season, realizing that except for Christmas, this is the main shopping period of the year. Knowing that a strong economic-withdrawal program would be the byproduct of direct action, we felt that this would be the best time to bring pressure to bear on the merchants for the needed change.

Then it occurred to us that Birmingham's mayoral election was coming up in March, and we speedily decided to postpone action until after Election Day. When we discovered that the Commissioner of Public Safety, Eugene "Bull" Connor, had piled up enough votes to be in the runoff, we decided again to postpone action until the day after the run off so that the demonstrations could not be used to cloud the issues. Like many others, we waited to see Mr. Connor defeated, and to this end we endured postponement after postponement. Having aided in this community need, we felt that our direct action program could be delayed no longer.

You may well ask: "Why direct action? Why sit INS, marches and so forth? Isn't negotiation a better path?" You are quite right in calling for negotiation. Indeed, this is the very purpose of direct action. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and foster such a tension that a community which has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored. My citing the creation of tension as part of the work of the nonviolent resister may sound rather shocking. But I must confess that I am not afraid of the word "tension." I have earnestly opposed violent tension, but there is a type of constructive, nonviolent tension which is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and half truths to the unfettered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, so must we see the need for nonviolent gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood. The purpose of our direct action program is to create a situation so crisis packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. I therefore concur with you in your call for negotiation. Too long has our beloved Southland been bogged down in a tragic effort to live in monologue rather than dialogue?

One of the basic points in your statement is that the action that I and my associates have taken in Birmingham is untimely. Some have asked: "Why didn't you give the new city administration time to act?" The only answer that I can give to this query is that the new Birmingham administration must be prodded about as much as the outgoing one, before it will act. We are sadly mistaken if we feel that the election of Albert Bout well as mayor will bring the millennium to Birmingham. While Mr. Boutwell is a much gentler person than Mr. Connor, they are both segregationists, dedicated to maintenance of the status quo. I have hope that Mr. Boutwell will be reasonable enough to see the futility of massive resistance to desegregation. But he will not see this without pressure from devotees of civil rights. My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.

We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was "well timed" in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This "Wait" has almost always meant "Never." We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."

We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jet like speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Fun town is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness"--then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience. You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court's decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: "How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?" The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that "an unjust law is no law at all."

Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust? A just law is a man made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use the terminology of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an "I it" relationship for an "I thou" relationship and ends up relegating persons to the status of things. Hence segregation is not only politically, economically and sociologically unsound; it is morally wrong and sinful. Paul Tillich has said that sin is separation. Is not segregation an existential expression of man's tragic separation, his awful estrangement, his terrible sinfulness? Thus it is that I can urge men to obey the 1954 decision of the Supreme Court, for it is morally right; and I can urge them to disobey segregation ordinances, for they are morally wrong.

Let us consider a more concrete example of just and unjust laws. An unjust law is a code that a numerical or power majority group compels a minority group to obey but does not make binding on itself. This is difference made legal. By the same token, a just law is a code that a majority compels a minority to follow and that it is willing to follow itself. This is sameness made legal. Let me give another explanation. A law is unjust if it is inflicted on a minority that, as a result of being denied the right to vote, had no part in enacting or devising the law. Who can say that the legislature of Alabama which set up that state's segregation laws was democratically elected? Throughout Alabama all sorts of devious methods are used to prevent Negroes from becoming registered voters, and there are some counties in which, even though Negroes constitute a majority of the population, not a single Negro is registered. Can any law enacted under such circumstances be considered democratically structured?

Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to deny citizens the First-Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.

I hope you are able to see the distinction I am trying to point out. In no sense do I advocate evading or defying the law, as would the rabid segregationist. That would lead to anarchy. One who breaks an unjust law must do so openly, lovingly, and with a willingness to accept the penalty. I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for law […]

[…] You speak of our activity in Birmingham as extreme. At first I was rather disappointed that fellow clergymen would see my nonviolent efforts as those of an extremist. I began thinking about the fact that I stand in the middle of two opposing forces in the Negro community. One is a force of complacency, made up in part of Negroes who, as a result of long years of oppression, are so drained of self respect and a sense of "somebodiness" that they have adjusted to segregation; and in part of a few middle-class Negroes who, because of a degree of academic and economic security and because in some ways they profit by segregation, have become insensitive to the problems of the masses. The other force is one of bitterness and hatred, and it comes perilously close to advocating violence. It is expressed in the various Black Nationalist groups that are springing up across the nation, the largest and best known being Elijah Muhammad's Muslim movement. Nourished by the Negro's frustration over the continued existence of racial discrimination, this movement is made up of people who have lost faith in America, who have absolutely repudiated Christianity, and who have concluded that the white man is an incorrigible "devil."

I have tried to stand between these two forces, saying that we need emulate neither the "do nothing                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             gism" of the complacent nor the hatred and despair of the Black Nationalist. For there is the more excellent way of love and nonviolent protest. I am grateful to God that, through the influence of the Negro church, the way of nonviolence became an integral part of our struggle. If this philosophy had not emerged, by now many streets of the South would, I am convinced, be flowing with blood. And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss as "rabble rousers" and "outside agitators" those of us who employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies--a development that would inevitably lead to a frightening racial nightmare.

From “On Civil Disobedience,”

By Mohandas Gandhi (delivered as a speech on July 27, 1916)

 

There are two ways of countering injustice. One way is to smash the head of the man who perpetrates injustice and to get your own head smashed in the process. All strong people in the world adopt this course. Everywhere wars are fought and millions of people are killed. The consequence is not the progress of a nation but its decline. Soldiers returning from the front have become so bereft of reason that they indulge in various anti-social activities. One does not have to go far for examples. Pride makes a victorious nation bad-tempered. It falls into luxurious ways of living. Then for a time, it may be conceded, peace prevails. But after a short while, it comes more and more to be realized that the seeds of war have not been destroyed but have become a thousand times more nourished and mighty. No country has ever become, or will ever become, happy through victory in war. A nation does not rise that way, it only falls further. In fact, what comes to it is defeat, not victory. And if, perchance, either our act or our purpose was ill-conceived, it brings disaster to both belligerents.

But through the other method of combating injustice, we alone suffer the consequences of our mistakes, and the other side is wholly spared. This other method is satyagraha. One who resorts to it does not have to break another’s head; he may merely have his own head broken. He has to be prepared to die himself suffering all the pain. In opposing the atrocious laws of the Government of South Africa, it was this method that we adopted. We made it clear to the said Government that we would never bow to its outrageous laws. No clapping is possible without two hands to do it, and no quarrel without two persons to make it. Similarly, no State is possible without two entities (the rulers and the ruled). You are our sovereign, our Government, only so long as we consider ourselves your subjects. When we are not subjects, you are not the sovereign either. So long as it is your endeavor to control us with justice and love, we will let you do so. But if you wish to strike at us from behind, we cannot permit it. Whatever you do in other matters, you will have to ask our opinion about the laws that concern us. If you make laws to keep us suppressed in a wrongful manner and without taking us into confidence, these laws will merely adorn the statute-books. We will never obey them. Award us for it what punishment you like, we will put up with it. Send us to prison and we will live there as in a paradise. Ask us to mount the scaffold and we will do so laughing. Shower what sufferings you like upon us, we will calmly endure all and not hurt a hair of your body. We will gladly die and will not so much as touch you. But so long as there is yet life in these our bones, we will never comply with your arbitrary laws.

On the Duty of Civil Disobedience

by Henry David Thoreau (Given as a lecture at the Concord Lyceum in 1848)

 

I heartily accept the motto,—"That government is best which governs least"; and I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly and systematically. Carried out, it finally amounts to this, which also I believe,—"That government is best which governs not at all"; and when men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which they will have. Government is at best but an expedient; but most governments are usually, and all governments are sometimes, inexpedient. ... The government itself, which is only the mode which the people have chosen to execute their will, is equally liable to be abused and perverted before the people can act through it.… I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better government. Let every man make known what kind of government would command his respect, and that will be one step toward obtaining it.

After all, the practical reason why, when the power is once in the hands of the people, a majority are permitted, and for a long period continue, to rule, is not because they are most likely to be in the right, nor because this seems fairest to the minority, but because they are physically the strongest. But a government in which the majority rule in all cases cannot be based on justice,... …Can there not be a government in which majorities do not virtually decide right and wrong, but conscience?—in which majorities decide only those questions to which the rule of expediency is applicable? Must the citizen ever for a moment, or in the least degree, resign his conscience to the legislator? Why has every man a conscience, then? I think that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. The only obligation which I have a right to assume is to do at any time what I think right. It is truly enough said that a corporation has no conscience... Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice. A common and natural result of an undue respect for law is, that you may see a file of soldiers, colonel, captain, corporal, privates, powder-monkeys, and all, marching in admirable order over hill and dale to the wars, against their wills, ay, against their common sense and consciences, which makes it very steep marching indeed, and produces a palpitation of the heart. They have no doubt that it is a damnable business in which they are concerned; they are all peaceably inclined. Now, what are they? Men at all? or small movable forts and magazines, at the service of some unscrupulous man in power?...

The mass of men serve the state thus, not as men mainly, but as machines, with their bodies. They are the standing army, and the militia, jailers, constables, posse comitatus, etc. In most cases there is no free exercise whatever of the judgment or of the moral sense; but they put themselves on a level with wood and earth and stones; and wooden men can perhaps be manufactured that will serve the purpose as well. Such command no more respect than men of straw or a lump of dirt. They have the same sort of worth only as horses and dogs. Yet such as these even are commonly esteemed good citizens. Others, as most legislators, politicians, lawyers, ministers, and office-holders, serve the state chiefly with their heads; and, as they rarely make any moral distinctions, they are as likely to serve the devil, without intending it, as God. A very few, as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and men, serve the state with their consciences also, and so necessarily resist it for the most part; and they are commonly treated as enemies by it…

How does it become a man to behave toward this American government to-day? I answer, that he cannot without disgrace be associated with it. I cannot for an instant recognize that political organization as my government which is the slave's government also.

It is not so important that many should be as good as you, as that there be some absolute goodness somewhere; for that will leaven the whole lump. There are thousands who are in opinion opposed to slavery and to the war, who yet in effect do nothing to put an end to them; …They hesitate, and they regret, and sometimes they petition; but they do nothing in earnest and with effect…

Even voting for the right is doing nothing for it. It is only expressing to men feebly your desire that it should prevail. A wise man will not leave the right to the mercy of chance, nor wish it to prevail through the power of the majority. There is but little virtue in the action of masses of men. When the majority shall at length vote for the abolition of slavery, it will be because they are indifferent to slavery, or because there is but little slavery left to be abolished by their vote.

Unjust laws exist; shall we be content to obey them, or shall we endeavor to amend them, and obey them until we have succeeded, or shall we transgress them at once? Men generally, under such a government as this, think that they ought to wait until they have persuaded the majority to alter them. They think that, if they should resist, the remedy would be worse than the evil. But it is the fault of the government itself that the remedy is worse than the evil. It makes it worse. Why is it not more apt to anticipate and provide for reform? Why does it not cherish its wise minority? Why does it cry and resist before it is hurt? Why does it not encourage its citizens to be on the alert to point out its faults, and do better than it would have them?

John Stuart Mill Utilitarianism

 

 

Maximise happiness. That is a caricature of utilitarianism, but it does capture something true and central to the theory. John Stuart Mill is the most famous utilitarian philosopher; in his book Utilitarianism he develops and refines the cruder version of the theory which 'had been put forward by his mentor Jeremy Bentham. In order to understand Mill's approach it is important to see how it differs from Bentham's.

BENTHAM'S UTILITARIANISM

For Bentham, the morally right action in any circumstances is the one that will tend to maximise total happiness. He conceives of happiness as a blissful mental state: pleasure and the absence of pain. The more of this that occurs in the world, the better. It doesn't matter how the pleasure is produced: Bentham famously declared that pushpin (a pub game) was as worthwhile as poetry provided that they produced equal amounts of pleasure. Each individual counts equally in the calculation of how much pleasure is produced by an action, and the total of pleasurable states is summed to determine how we should act. This is utilitarianism in its most straightforward form.

So, for instance, if a utilitarian wanted to decide whether to leave her money to one poor relative or divide it between twenty reasonably well-off friends, she would calculate how much total pleasure would be produced by each. Although the inheritance might make the poor relative very happy, the total amount of happiness may still be less than making twenty reasonably well-off friends moderately happy. If this were true, the woman should leave the money to the friends rather than the relative.

Mill shared many of Bentham's beliefs. Mill's Greatest Happiness Principle, for example, is simply 'actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness’. Both Bentham and Mill were hedonists in the sense that their approach to ethics was founded upon the pursuit of pleasure (not, however, merely the pursuit of individuals' own pleasure, but rather the pursuit of the greatest overall pleasure). Actions for both philosophers were to be judged according to their probable consequences not according to any religious code or set of binding principles to be followed whatever consequences ensued.

The phrase 'the greatest happiness of the greatest number' is sometimes used to describe the utilitarian approach to ethics, but this can be misleading. What both Bentham and Mill were interested in was achieving the greatest aggregatehappiness (that is, the largest total sum of happiness) irrespective of how that happiness was distributed. It would be consistent with this approach to think that it would be better to make a few people extremely happy than to make a much larger number slightly happier, provided that the sum of happiness in the First case was larger than the sum in the second.

Mill's utilitarianism differs from Bentham's in that he gives a more sophisticated account of happiness. For Mill, there are qualitatively different sorts of pleasure: higher and lower pleasures. Higher pleasures are to be preferred to lower ones. Bentham, in contrast, treats all pleasures as on a par.

MILL ON HIGHER AND LOWER PLEASURES

One common criticism of simple versions of utilitarianism, such as Bentham's, is that they reduce the subtleties of human life to a stark calculation of animal-like pleasures, with no concern for how these pleasures are produced. Utilitarianism of this kind was ridiculed as a doctrine only worthy of swine.

 

Mill meets such criticisms with his distinction between higher and lower pleasures. As he puts it, it is better to be a dissatisfied human being than a satisfied pig; and better to be a dissatisfied Socrates than a satisfied fool. Human beings are capable of intellectual pleasures as well as the brute physical ones; pigs cannot have intellectual pleasures. Mill argues that the intellectual pleasures, those he calls higher pleasures, are intrinsically more valuable than the physical lower ones. His argument in support of this is that those who have felt both kinds of pleasure will certainly prefer the intellectual kind, this leaves him with the awkward fact that some people who are capable of experiencing sublime intellectual pleasures nevertheless throw themselves into lives of debauchery and sensual gratification. His response to this sort of case is that they are led astray by the temptation of immediate sensual gratification; they know full well that the higher pleasures are more worthwhile.

THE 'PROOF' OF UTILITARIANISM

The obvious question to ask is 'Why maximise happiness?' Mill's answer is controversial, though it is important to realise that he never claims that it provides a conclusive justification for his theory: he does not believe that a theory such as utilitarianism can be proved to be true.

Happiness, he says, is pursued as an end in itself. The ultimate end of all human activity is happiness and the avoidance of pain. Everything else which is desirable is desirable because it contributes to such a life. If you spend your life collecting beautiful works of art, this activity is a way of getting pleasure. If someone, for example, argues against Mill by claiming that they pursue virtue as an end in itself independently of any happiness that might arise from it, Mill answers that virtue is then an ingredient in their happy life; it becomes part of that person's happiness.

The Greatest Happiness Principle claims that the end or purpose of all human life is happiness and the avoidance of pain. These are the only things that are desirable as ends; everything else desirable is desirable as a means to these ends. So the question 'Why maximize happiness?' is really just a question about what makes happiness desirable. Mill suggests an analogy to answer this question. The only way that we can prove that art object is visible is by demonstratingthat people actually can see it. Analogously, he claims, the only evidence we can give that happiness is desirable is that people actually do desire it. Each person finds his or her own happiness desirable, so general happiness is the sum of the individual happiness, and itself desirable.

CRITICISMS OF UTILITARIANISM 'Proof' is based on bad arguments

Mill's attempt to justify the belief that we ought to maximise happiness contains some allegedly bad arguments. Most of these were pointed out by Henry Sidgwick. First, the move from what is visible to what is desirable is misleading. Mill suggests that because we can tell what is visible by identifying what is seen, it follows that we can tell what is desirable by identifying what people actually do desire. But on closer inspection the analogy between 'visible' and 'desirable' does not hold. 'Visible' means 'can be seen', but 'desirable' doesn't usually mean 'can be desired'; what it usually means is 'should be desired' or 'is worthy of being desired', and that is certainly the sense in which Mill employs it in his argument. Once the weakness of the analogy between the two words has been pointed out, it is difficult to see how describing what people actually do desire is likely to revealanything about what people should desire.

But even if Mill had established that happiness is desirable in the appropriate sense, this would lead logically to a form of egoism, each person pursuing his or her ownhappiness, rather than the more benevolent approach of utilitarianism which makes the greatest happiness possible its aim. Mill thinks that because each individual wants his or her own happiness, the total of all the individual happinesses can simply be added up to give an aggregate which would then itself be desirable. But this does not follow at all. He needs a far stronger argument to prove that the general happiness, rather than just our own individual happiness, is something that we all ought to pursue.

Difficulties of Calculation

Even if Mill had established that there were good grounds for adopting a utilitarian approach to ethics, there are still some objections to thetheory and its application which he would need to meet. One practical difficulty is that of calculating which of the many possible actions is most likely to produce the most happiness overall. This might be a particularly vexing issue when you had to make a moral decision quickly – for instance, if you were faced with a dilemma about whom to save from a burning building, given that you could only save one person and there were three people trapped inside. In such a situation you just would not have time to sit down and calculate probable consequences.

Mill's response to this sort of objection was that throughout human history people have .been learning from their experience about the probable courses of different sorts of action, The solution is to come up with some general principles about which sorts of actions tend to maximise happiness, rather than to go back to the Greatest Happiness Principle whenever you are faced with a moral decision. Mill, then, suggests that the rational approach to life involves adopting such general principles rather than forever calculating possible consequences. Thus his utilitarianism has two stages: the derivation of general principles on utilitarian grounds, and then the application of those principles to particular cases.

Higher/lower pleasures

Mill's division of pleasures into two categories creates problems of several sorts. Because these pleasures are different in kind rather than just degree it makes the calculation and comparison of consequences of actions far more complex. higher and lower pleasures are incommensurable: that is, there is no common currency in which both can be measured and compared. So it is not at all clear how we are to apply Mill's version of utilitarianism in circumstances where both higher and lower pleasures enter into the calculation.

Furthermore, the higher/lower pleasure distinction looks like a self-serving one. It is no surprise to find an intellectual defending the idea that intellectual activity produces pleasures of a more satisfying kind than merely physical ones. This in itself doesn't prove the theory is false; it just reveals the fact that Mill might have had a vested interest in the intellectual pleasures being intrinsically more valuable than others.

Unpalatable consequences

The strict application of utilitarian principles in some cases has consequences which many people would find unacceptable. For example, if there had been a gruesome murder, and the police had found a suspect who they knew hadn't committed the murder, there might be utilitarian grounds for framing him and punishing him accordingly, Presumably most members of the public would be very happy that the culprit had been caught and punished; they would remain happy just as long as no one found out that he was in fact innocent. The innocent man's suffering would be great for him, but in the calculation of consequences would be far outweighed by the sum of pleasure that many millions of people would feel at seeing what they believe to be justice to have been done_ Yet, this consequence of utilitarian morality would be unpalatable for most of us: our intuitions are that punishing the innocent is unjust and should not be permitted whatever the beneficial consequences of this practice,

One response to this sort of criticism is to modify utilitarianism into what is known as rule utilitarianism, Here general principles of conduct are worked out on utilitarian grounds, such as that in general punishing innocent people produces more unhappiness than happiness. These general principles are then adhered to even in the few particular cases in which, for example, punishing an innocent person would in fact produce the greatest sum of happiness possible from available options. Some have claimed that Mill is himself a rule, _utilitarian. However, it is more plausible that what Mill says about working out general guidelines of behaviour before you are faced with a situation in which you must act quickly (rather than having to do a calculation on the spot) is only intended to produce rules of thumb,. generalisations which can be broken in particular cases and are not binding principles of conduct.

 

GLOSSARY

altruism: being helpful to others for their own sake rather than any more selfish motivation.

egoism: acting solely in one's own interests.

Greatest Happiness Principle: the basic tenet of utilitarianism, namely that the morally right action in any circumstances is theone which is most likely to maximise happiness.hedonism: pursuit of pleasure,

higher pleasures: the more intellectual pleasures of thoughtand artistic appreciation. Mill assigns these much higher value thanthe lower physical pleasures.

lower pleasures: the physical pleasures which animals as well as humans can experience, such as those which come from eating, or from sex.

rule utilitarianism: a variety of utilitarianism which, instead of focusing on particular actions, looks at the kinds of action which rend to maximise happiness.

utilitarianism: themoral theory which declares that the morally right action in any circumstances is the one which is most likely to maximise happiness.

utility: for Mill 'utility' is a technical term meaning happiness rather than usefulness. if an action increases utility, this simply means that it increases happiness.

FURTHER READING

Roger Crisp Millon Utilitarianism (London: Routledge, 1997) is a clear critical study of Mill's moral philosophy.

JonathanClover (ed.) Utilitarianism and its Critics (New York:Macmillan, 1990) is an excellent selection of readings on the topic of utilitarianism, it contains relevant extracts from a variety of utilitarian writers, including Mill, and provides brief and lucid introductions to each reading.

  

IMMANUEL KANT, GROUNDWORK OF THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALS

 

 

Good intentions count. The morality of an action is not determined of its consequences, only by the intentions behind it. Morality is objective: it's not a matter of taste or culture, but applies equally to all rational beings. The point of Immanuel Kant's Groundwork of the Metaphysic of Morals is to make these claims plausible by establishing what he calls 'the supreme principle of morality', namely the categorical imperative. The book was written as a short prelude to his more complex and detailed work on moral philosophy. It has stood the test of time as a succinct statement of a duty-based or deontological moral theory. 

 

THE GOOD WILL 

The only thing in the world which is good without qualification is a good will. What Kant means by this is that good intentions are good unconditionally. Everything else which is good is only good under certain circumstances. So, for example, courage might be considered a good attribute to have, but on its own, it is not· necessarily good: it requires good intentions, that is, a good will, to guarantee its goodness. Power, wealth and honour may be good; but equally without a good will, they can all serve evil ends.

        A good will is good in itself, not because of anything else that it gives rise to. So, Kant tells us, provided that we have good intentions, it doesn't matter from a moral point of view if a 'niggardly endowment of step-motherly nature' prevents us achieving what we set out to do. Even when all our good intentions are thwarted by events outside our control the good will still shines like a jewel. 

        This view contrasts sharply with consequentialist moral theories, such as John Stuart Mill's utilitarianism (discussed in a later chapter). These judge the moral worth of an action by its actual or probable consequences. For Kant, however, this is a mistake. Consequences are irrelevant to assessments of moral worth, though they are, of course, relevant to most other aspects of life. 

 

DUTY AND INCLINATION 

The only appropriate motive for moral action is a sense of duty. Some people's actions conform outwardly to their duties, but inwardly they are acting only from self-interest. So, for example, a shrewd shopkeeper won't overcharge an inexperienced customer because he knows that ultimately this is bad for business. This is not acting from duty, but only from prudence: enlightened self-interest. Acting from a motive of duty is acting simply because you know that this is the right thing to do, not from any other motive. 

Duty stands in contrast to mere inclination. Some people happen to have compassionate natures; if

they see others in need, they are moved to help them. Kant says that actions done solely from compassionate inclinations have no moral worth whatsoever. The motive of duty is all-important. Someone who has no natural inclinations to sympathy or compassion, yet who helps others out of a sense of duty, is morally praiseworthy; those who act purely out of inclinations, no matter how admirable those inclinations happen to be, are not acting morally at all. 

Kant's reason for these surprising statements is that morality is open to every rational being; yet our

inclinations are outside our conscious control. Ultimately it is a matter of luck whether or not you happen to have a compassionate nature. He reinterprets the Christian 'love thy neighbour', arguing that here the relevant kind of love is what he calls a practical one, that is; acting out of a sense of duty, rather than pathological love, which is the emotional attitude which more usually goes by that name. In other words, Jesus Christ wasn't telling you how you should feel about your neighbour when he said 'love thy neighbour', but rather instructing you to act from your sense of duty. 

 

MAXIMS 

It is the underlying principles motivating an action which determine its moral worth, not the end result. Kant calls such principles maxims. The same behaviour could be the outcome of very different maxims. You might tell the truth on a particular occasion while acting on the maxim 'Always tell the truth'; but your behaviour would on this occasion be indistinguishable if you were acting on the maxim 'Always tell the truth unless you are sure you can get away with telling a lie.' Only the first maxim is a moral one. Kant provides a way of distinguishing moral from other maxims with his categorical imperative. 

 

THE CATEGORICAL IMPERATIVE 

Our moral duty arises from our respect for the moral law. The moral law is determined by what Kant calls the categorical imperative. A hypothetical imperative is a statement such as 'If you want to get other people's respect, then you should keep your promises': it is a conditional statement. A categorical imperative, in contrast, is a command such as 'Keep your promises': it applies unconditionally, irrespective of your goals. Kant thinks that there is one basic categorical imperative fueling all our moral actions. He provides several formulations of this imperative. 

 

Universal moral law 

The first formulation of the categorical imperative is 'Only act on a maxim that you could will should become a universal law.' 'Will' here is very different from 'want': it means rationally intend. By 'law' he means a moral rather than a legal law (many actions which transgress moral laws are perfectly legal). The idea is that if a maxim is a genuinely moral one, then it ought to apply to everyone in relevantly similar circumstances: it should be universalisable. It should also be impersonal inasmuch as it shouldn't make a special exception for you. If an action is morally wrong, it is morally wrong for everyone, including you. If an action is morally right, it is morally right for anyone in relevantly similar circumstances.        . 

In order to explain the implications of this formulation of the categorical imperative, Kant uses the

example of making promises you don't intend to keep. You might find it convenient to make such promises sometimes, but, he says, you could not rationally will the maxim 'Break your promises when you are hard pressed' for everyone. If the maxim were taken up universally, then the whole institution of promising would be undermined. This would be self-defeating. You wouldn't be able to trust anyone to keep. their promises. So the maxim can't be a moral one; you could not will it as a universal law. Thus the categorical imperative provides a way of distinguishing between moral and non-moral maxims. If you can't rationally universalise a maxim, it isn't a moral one. 

 

Treat people as ends 

The second formulation of the categorical imperative is 'Act so as to treat others and yourself always as ends, never simply means to ends.' Rational beings are persons, that is, they are ends in themselves; they have their own lives to lead, and we should .not simply use them for what happens to suit us. We should recognize them as individuals capable of leading their own lives. To treat someone merely as a means to my own ends is tantamount to denying their essential humanity. Another way of putting this is that we should respect other people's autonomy. It would be treating someone as a means to an end if I promised to pay him back the money he leant me, even though I never really intended to do so. Recognizing him as an end in himself would entail intending to and actually keeping my promise. 

 

The kingdom of ends 

A further formulation of the categorical imperative is expressed in terms of a kingdom of ends: 'Act as if through your maxims you were a law-making member of a kingdom of ends" A kingdom of ends is an imaginary state whose laws protect individual autonomy, allowing everyone to be treated as an end rather than as a means to an end. Here Kant makes clear that morality is not just a matter of individual conduct, but also the foundation of societies. Kant's approach is designed to discriminate between principles which rational agents would adopt for their ideal state and those which they would reject. A principle which you could not will to be a law in this ideal state fails to pass this test, and so is not a moral principle. 

.,, 

KANT, ARISTOTLE AND MILL 

Kant's approach to moral action contrasts sharply both with Aristotle's and Mill's. Kant treats emotions as either irrational or irrelevant to moral action; only the practical emotions, which aren't emotions in the ordinary sense of the word, have any direct part to play in morality. Aristotle, in contrast, argues that the cultivation of appropriate emotional responses is a central aim of moral education. Aristotle's philosophy is flexible, based on sensitivity to circumstances; Kant's is rigid in its adherence to general principles which admit of no exceptions. 

Kant's approach to morality also contrasts with a utilitarian one such as Mill's. Kant dismisses the consequences of actions as irrelevant to our moral assessment of them; whereas for Mill the consequences of an action determine its moral worth. Mill's approach gives guidelines for discriminating between competing moral claims: assess the consequences and choose the option which will maximise aggregate happiness. Kant's moral philosophy gives no method of choosing between two actions both of which are moral; or for that matter between two actions both of which are immoral. 

Aristotle, Kant and Mill provide three distinctively different approaches to morality. Like Aristotle's and Mill's, Kant's theory is open to a number of criticisms. 

 

CRITICISMS OF THE GROUNDWORK OF THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALS 

 

It is empty 

A common criticism of Kant's moral theory is that it doesn't provide any content to ethics. It concentrates on the structure of moral judgements, their universalisability and impersonality, rather than helping us to discover precisely what we ought to do. Worse still, using Kant's own test for moral judgements, it seems that we could quite easily universalise some quite obviously immoral principles, such as 'Always use the most efficient means of farming regardless of animal welfare': there is nothing inconsistent about willing this principle. Because most animals would fail to meet the appropriate threshold of rationality for Kant, the version of the categorical impe1ative which enjoins us to treat others as ends and not means would not save them here. So Kant would have to say that this maxim was a moral one. 

Even the example of promise-breaking that Kant uses seems open 

Even the example of promise-breaking that Kant uses seems open to criticism. If you have a maxim 'Break your promises whenever you can get away with it', then, provided that no one else knows that this is your policy, it might appear that there is nothing self-contradictory in willing it. If everyone acted on the same maxim, the institution of promising could still survive. However, Kant's response would be that breaking a promise is absolutely wrong and that you could not rationally will the maxim in question. This is because willing such a maxim would entail willing not only that I break promises when I can get away with it, but also that other people treat their promises to me in the same fashion. Sol would, in willing the maxim, effectively be willing that I have promises broken to myself. 

 

The role of emotion 

Kant's moral philosophy treats the emotions and individual character traits as irrelevant to our moral assessments of individuals. It doesn't matter for Kant if you are hard-hearted, provided that you act out of a reverence for the moral law. Yet, for many of us, genuine compassion is the core of morality, not a potentially distracting quirk of individual psychology. We admire people who have a special capacity for sympathy and compassion, and this admiration seems to be an admiration of qualities relevant.to them as moral beings. Kant's approach, which focuses on what any rational being should do, ignores the centrality of emotions to human moral interaction. The practical emotions which he wants to substitute for the pathological ones scarcely seem to merit the label 'emotion' at all. 

 

A caricature of Kant's attitude toemotions suggests that he always considers them obstacles to moral action. However, in fact what he argues is that emotions and inclinations can cloud the issue of whether or not you are acting morally. This is particularly relevant if you find yourself in a situation in which you happen to feel a strong emotional inclination to act in the way that the categorical imperative indicates anyway.

          For example, you might, when walking around London, be approached by someone begging for money. The sight of this person stirs up feelings of compassion that have you reaching for your purse; but you also recognize a moral duty, following from the categorical imperative, enjoining you to give money to this person. In such a situation it may by difficult or even impossible to tell what your real motivation for giving money is: is it an inclination, or is it reverence for the moral law? However, if your immediate response to being asked for money was revulsion and irritation, yet you still acted according to the categorical imperative, then you would have no trouble in knowing that you had acted morally. Kant doesn’t rule out the possibility that those who feel compassion also act from reverence for the moral law; what he does say is that acting from compassion alone will not make your action a moral one.

          Nevertheless, Kant’s dismissal of emotion dehumanizes moral relations. The coldly rational responses which he points to as models of moral behavior seem to be less human and less desirable than appropriately emotional ones.

 

Martin Buber, “I and Thou”

 

To man the world is twofold, in accordance with his twofold attitude. The attitude of man is twofold, in accordance with the twofold nature of the primary words which he speaks. The primary words are not isolated words, but combined words. The one primary word is the combination I – Thou. The other primary word is the combination I – It; wherein, without a change in the primary word, one of the words He and She can replace It. Hence the I of man is also twofold. For the I of the primary word I-Thou is a different I from that of the primary word I – It…

 

The life of human beings is not passed in the sphere of transitive verbs alone. It does not exist in virtue of activities alone which have something for their object.

 

I perceive something. I am sensible of something. I imagine something. I will something. I feel something. I think something. The life of human beings does not consist of all this and the like alone. This and the like together establish the realm of It.

 

But the realm of Thou has a different basis. When Thou is spoken, the speaker has no thing for his object. For where there is a thing there is another thing. Every It is bounded by others; It exists only through being bounded by others. But when Thou is spoken, there is not thing. Thou has no bounds. When Thou is spoken the speaker has no thing; he has indeed nothing. But he takes his stand in relation…

 

I consider a tree. I can look on it as a picture: stiff column in a shock of light, or splash of green shot with the delicate blue and silver of the background. I can perceive it as movement: flowing veins on clinging, pressing pith, suck of the roots, breathing of the leaves, ceaseless commerce with earth and air – and the obscure growth itself. I can classify it in a species and study it as a type in its structure and mode of life. I can subdue its actual presence and form so sternly that I recognize it only as an expression of law – of the laws in accordance with which a constant opposition of forces is continually adjusted, or of those in accordance with which the component substances mingle and separate. I can dissipate it and perpetuate it in number, in pure numerical relation. In all this the tree remains my object, occupies space and time, and has its nature and constitution.

 

It can, however, also come about, if I have both will and grace, that in considering the tree I become bound up in relation to it. The tree is now no longer It. I have been seized by the power of exclusiveness. To effect this it is not necessary for me to give up and of the ways in which I consider the tree. There is nothing from which I would have to turn my eyes away in order to see, and no knowledge that I would have to forget. Rather is everything, picture and movement, species and type, law and number, indivisibly united in this event. Everything belonging to the tree is in this: its form and structure, its colours and chemical composition, its intercourse with the elements and with the stars, are all present in a single whole.

 

The tree is no impression, no play of my imagination, no value depending on my mood; but it is bodied over against me and has to do with me, as I with it – only in a different way. Let no attempt be made to sap the strength from the meaning of the relation: relation is mutual. The tree will have a consciousness, then, similar to our own? Of that I have no experience. But do you wish, through seeming to succeed in it with yourself, once again to disintegrate that which cannot be disintegrated? I encounter no soul or dryad of the tree, but the tree itself…

 

Sometimes I look into a cat’s eyes. The domesticated animal has not as it were received from us (as we sometimes imagine) the gift of the truly “speaking” glance, but only – at the price of its primitive disinterestedness – the capacity to turn its glance to us prodigious beings. But with this capacity there enters the glance, in its dawn and continuing in its rising, a quality of amazement and of inquiry that is wholly lacking in the original glance with all its anxiety. The beginning of this cat’s glance with all its anxiety. The beginning of this cat’s glance, lighting up under the touch of my glance, indisputably questioned me: “Is it possible that you think of me? Do you really not just want me to have fun? Do I concern you? Do I exist in your sight? Do I really exist? What is it that comes from you? What is it that surrounds me? What is it that comes to me? What is it?” (“I” is here a transcription for a word, that we do not have, denoting self without the ego; and by “it” is to be imagined the streaming human glance in the total reality of its power to enter into relation.) The animal’s glance, speech of disquietude, rose in its greatness – and set at once. My own glance was certainly more lasting; but it was no longer the streaming human glance.

 

The rotation of the world which introduced the relational event had been followed almost immediately by the other which ended it. The world of It surrounded the animal and myself, for the space of a glance the world of Thou had shone out from the depths, to be at once extinguished and put back into the world of It.

 

I relate this tiny episode, which I have experienced several times, for the sake of the speech of this almost unnoticeable sunrise and sunset of the spirit. In no other speech have I known so profoundly the fleeting nature of actuality in all its relations with being, the exalted melancholy of our fate, the change, heavy with destiny, of every isolated Thou into an It. For other events possessed between morning and evening their day, even though it might be brief; but here morning and evening flowed pitilessly mingled together, the bright Thou appeared and was gone. Had the burden of the world of It really been removed for the space of a glance from the animal and from myself? I myself could continue to think about the matter, but the animal had sunk back out of the stammer of its glance into the disquietude where there is no speech and almost no memory.

 

How powerful is the unbroken world of It, and how delicate are the appearances of the Thou!

 

 

Excerpt by Jiddu Krishnamurti, from On Education. Originally published by All India Press in Pondicherry, India in 1974.

You know, you live in one of the most beautiful valleys I have seen. It has a special atmosphere. Have you noticed, especially in the evenings and early mornings, a quality of silence which permeates, which penetrates the valley? There are around here, I believe, the most ancient hills in the world and man has not spoilt them yet; and wherever you go, in cities or in other places, man is destroying nature, cutting down trees to build more houses, polluting the air with cars and industry. Man is destroying animals; there are very few tigers left. Man is destroying everything because more and more people are born and they must have more space.

 

Gradually, man is spreading destruction all over the world. And when one comes to a valley like this - where there are very few people, where nature is still not spoilt, where there is still silence, quietness, beauty - one is really astonished. Every time one comes here one feels the strangeness of this land, but probably you have become used to it. You do not look at the hills any more, you do not listen to the birds anymore and to the wind among the leaves. So you have gradually become indifferent.

 

Education is not only learning from books, memorizing some facts, but also learning how to look, how to listen to what the books are saying, whether they are saying something true or false. All that is part of education. Education is not just to pass examinations, take a degree and a job, get married and settle down, but also to be able to listen to the birds, to see the sky, to see the extraordinary beauty of a tree, and the shape of the hills, and to feel with them, to be really, directly in touch with them. As you grow older, that sense of listening, seeing, unfortunately disappears because you have worries, you want more money, a better car, more children or less children. You become jealous, ambitious, greedy, envious; so you lose the sense of the beauty of the earth.

 

You know what is happening in the world. You must be studying current events. There are wars, revolts, nation divided against nation. In this country too there is division, separation, more and more people being born, poverty, squalor and complete callousness. Man does not care what happens to another so long as he is perfectly safe. And you are being educated to fit into all this. Do you know the world is mad, that all this is madness - this fighting, quarrelling, bullying, tearing at each other? And you will grow up to fit into this. Is this right, is this what education is meant for, that you should willingly or unwillingly fit into this mad structure called society? And do you know what is happening to religions throughout the world? Here also man is disintegrating, nobody believes in anything anymore. Man has no faith and religions are merely the result of a vast propaganda.

 

Since you are young, fresh, innocent, can you look at all the beauty of the earth, have the quality of affection? And can you retain that? For if you do not, as you grow up, you will conform, because that is the easiest way to live. As you grow up, a few of you will revolt, but that revolt too will not answer the problem. Some of you will try to run away from society, but that running away will have no meaning. You have to change society, but not by killing people. Society is you and I. You and I create the society in which we live. So you have to change. You cannot fit into this monstrous society. So what are you going to do?

 

And you, living in this extraordinary valley, are you going to be thrown into this world of strife, confusion, war, hatred? Are you going to conform, fit in, and accept all the old values? You know what these values are - money, position, prestige, and power. That is all man wants and society wants you to fit into that pattern of values. But if you now begin to think, to observe, to learn, not from books, but learn for yourself by watching, listening to everything that is happening around you, you will grow up to be  a different human being - one who cares, who has affection, who loves people. Perhaps if you live that way, you might find a truly religious life.

 

So look at nature, at the tamarind tree, the mango trees in bloom, and listen to the birds early in the morning and late in the evening. See the clear sky, the stars, how marvelously the sun sets behind those hills. See all, the colors, the light on the leaves, the beauty of the land, the rich earth. Then having seen that and seen also what the world is, with all its brutality, violence, ugliness, what are you going to do?

 

Do you know what it means to attend, to pay attention? When you pay attention, you see things much more clearly. You hear the bird singing much more distinctly. You differentiate between various sounds. When you look at a tree with a great deal of attention, you see the whole beauty of the tree. You see the leaves, the branch, you see the wind playing with it. When you pay attention, you see extraordinarily clearly. Have you ever done it? Attention is something different from concentration. When you concentrate, you don't see everything. But when you are paying attention, you see a great deal. Now, pay attention. Look at that tree and see the shadows, the slight breeze among the leaves. See the shape of the tree. See the proportion of the tree in relation to other trees. See the quality of light that penetrates through the leaves, the light on the branches and the trunk. See the totality of the tree. Look at it that way, because I am going to talk about something to which you have to pay attention. Attention is very important, in the class, as well as when you are outside, when you are eating, when you are walking. Attention is an extraordinary thing.

 

I am going to ask you something. Why are you being educated? Do you understand my question? Your parents send you to school. You attend classes, you learn mathematics, you learn geography, you learn history. Why? Have you ever asked why you want to be educated, what is the point of being educated? What is the point of your passing examinations and getting degrees? Is it to get married, get a job and settle down in life as millions and millions of people do? Is that what you are going to do, is that the meaning of education? Do you understand what I am talking about? This is really a very serious question. The whole world is questioning the basis of education. We see what education has been used for. Human beings throughout the world - whether in Russia or in China or in America or in Europe or in this country - are being educated to conform, to fit into society and into their culture, to fit into the stream of social and economic activity, to be sucked into that vast stream that has been flowing for thousands of years. Is that education, or is education something entirely different?

 

Can education see to it that the human mind is not drawn into that vast stream and so destroyed; see that the mind is never sucked into that stream; so that, with such a mind, you can be an entirely different human being with a different quality to life? Are you going to be educated that way? Or are you going to allow your parents, society, to dictate to you so that you become pad of the stream of society? Real education means that a human mind, your mind, not only is capable of being excellent in mathematics, geography and history, but also can never, under any circumstances, be drawn into the stream of society. Because that stream which we call living, is very corrupt, is immoral, is violent, is greedy. That stream is our culture.

 

So, the question is how to bring about the right kind of education so that the mind can withstand all temptations, all influences, the bestiality of this civilization and this culture. We have come to a point in history where we have to create a new culture, a totally different kind of existence, not based on consumerism and industrialization, but a culture based upon a real quality of religion. Now how does one bring about, through education, a mind that is entirely different, a mind that is not greedy, not envious? How does one create a mind that is not ambitious, that is extraordinarily active, efficient; that has a real perception of what is true in daily life which is after all religion.

 

Now, let us find out what is the real meaning and intention of education. Can your mind, which has been conditioned by society, the culture in which you have lived, be transformed through education so that you will never under any circumstances enter the stream of society? Is it possible to educate you differently? `Educate' in the real sense of that word; not to transmit from the teachers to the students some information about mathematics or history or geography, but in the very instruction of these subjects to bring about a change in your mind. Which means that you have to be extraordinarily critical? You have to learn never to accept anything which you yourself do not see clearly, never to repeat what another has said.

 

I think you should put these questions to yourself, not occasionally, but every day. Find out. Listen to everything, to the birds, to that cow calling. Learn about everything in yourself, because if you learn from yourself about yourself, then you will not be a second-hand human being. So you should, if I may suggest, from now on, find out how to live entirely differently and that is going to be difficult, for I am afraid most of us like to find an easy way of living. We like to repeat and what other people say, what other people do, because it is the easiest way to live - to conform to the old pattern or to a new pattern. We have to find out what it means never to conform and what it means to live without fear. This is your life, and nobody is going to teach you, no book, no guru. You have to earn from yourself, not from books. There is a great deal to learn about yourself. It is an endless thing, it is a fascinating thing, and when you learn about yourself from yourself, out of that learning wisdom comes. Then you can live a most extraordinary, happy, beautiful life. Right? Now, will you ask me questions?

Read More