endsthegame (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fandomhigh2012-08-06 12:17 pm
endsthegame) wrote in fandomhigh2012-08-06 12:17 pm
Entry tags:
Practical Philosophy, Monday
Ender was still holding a cup of coffee from the Starbucks branch at the Baltimore Portalocity terminal in his hands when he arrived; he'd ordered the largest size, and still sipped it from time to time even though it had gone cold.
He had another portal back to Coruscant in only three hours-- a day would have passed back there, and he would probably spend some time sleeping to make up for lost time earlier this morning.
Now, though, he was outside again, sitting down on the lawn, putting the coffee between his legs. "Sorry about the lack of food," he said. "But I'm currently in the process of hurrying back and forth between here and my partner's galaxy on account of a minor crisis. Nothing for you to worry about, though."
He scraped his throat. "I didn't want to go into this last week because for some of you, the issues at hand might have still been too fresh," he said. God knew he'd been reeling himself, and the nightmares still hadn't gone away-- but he was ignoring that now. "But I'd like for us to talk about identity, and what this island does to it."
"I'm sure at least some of you have been asking yourselves the question, 'how much of that was me? Whatever it was I did, was it my fault?' It's a question for which there are no easy answers. In fact, it's an ancient argument in many fields: is it nature that defines us, or nurture?" He glanced over the faces of his students. "Because in the case of this particular week, our nurture was decidedly different. Or rather, to use a word less tied up with child-rearing, our circumstances."
"There are people who'll say that you won't know who you are until you're pushed to your extreme, and that's a valid point," he said, "Though I'd nuance it by saying that who you are at your extreme is just another part of you. It predicts what you would do in certain situations, but it isn't a worthwhile indicator of a full bonafide human being. Would you do the things you'd do to an enemy in an extreme situation if the situation was not extreme? If you could talk to them, reason with them? Would you do it if it was someone you loved?"
"Or would you balk? Would you sacrifice yourself in one situation but not in another? Of course you would. You're human." He took another sip of his cold coffee. "This is one of the reasons why debates about ethics always become complicated, and even our resident class with Professor Skywalker won't prepare you for the realities of it. There are people who say they won't kill who will become murderers, and people who say they would who never do. Some of it is circumstance and some of it is who they are-- we aren't simple creatures, except for when we are."
He put his coffee down. "But I could lecture on this topic for a very long time," he said. "I'm more interested in letting all of you squawk for a while. What did you do that week, and was it something you thought you would do? Is it something you think you might do here, if the circumstances are right? What if they're different? I'm not looking for ethics here-- I'm absolutely the last person who has any right to pass moral judgement on anything. I just want to know who you think you were and who you think you are, and whether you think the two have any connection whatsoever."
He had another portal back to Coruscant in only three hours-- a day would have passed back there, and he would probably spend some time sleeping to make up for lost time earlier this morning.
Now, though, he was outside again, sitting down on the lawn, putting the coffee between his legs. "Sorry about the lack of food," he said. "But I'm currently in the process of hurrying back and forth between here and my partner's galaxy on account of a minor crisis. Nothing for you to worry about, though."
He scraped his throat. "I didn't want to go into this last week because for some of you, the issues at hand might have still been too fresh," he said. God knew he'd been reeling himself, and the nightmares still hadn't gone away-- but he was ignoring that now. "But I'd like for us to talk about identity, and what this island does to it."
"I'm sure at least some of you have been asking yourselves the question, 'how much of that was me? Whatever it was I did, was it my fault?' It's a question for which there are no easy answers. In fact, it's an ancient argument in many fields: is it nature that defines us, or nurture?" He glanced over the faces of his students. "Because in the case of this particular week, our nurture was decidedly different. Or rather, to use a word less tied up with child-rearing, our circumstances."
"There are people who'll say that you won't know who you are until you're pushed to your extreme, and that's a valid point," he said, "Though I'd nuance it by saying that who you are at your extreme is just another part of you. It predicts what you would do in certain situations, but it isn't a worthwhile indicator of a full bonafide human being. Would you do the things you'd do to an enemy in an extreme situation if the situation was not extreme? If you could talk to them, reason with them? Would you do it if it was someone you loved?"
"Or would you balk? Would you sacrifice yourself in one situation but not in another? Of course you would. You're human." He took another sip of his cold coffee. "This is one of the reasons why debates about ethics always become complicated, and even our resident class with Professor Skywalker won't prepare you for the realities of it. There are people who say they won't kill who will become murderers, and people who say they would who never do. Some of it is circumstance and some of it is who they are-- we aren't simple creatures, except for when we are."
He put his coffee down. "But I could lecture on this topic for a very long time," he said. "I'm more interested in letting all of you squawk for a while. What did you do that week, and was it something you thought you would do? Is it something you think you might do here, if the circumstances are right? What if they're different? I'm not looking for ethics here-- I'm absolutely the last person who has any right to pass moral judgement on anything. I just want to know who you think you were and who you think you are, and whether you think the two have any connection whatsoever."
Re: Talk.
"I'm not saying it's untrue," he said. "It might very well be. But if you want to square yourself with it, you're going to have to dig for the truth."
Re: Talk.
"I guess... it wasn't necessarily as detached as people's cousins doing all that stuff," he admitted mostly to his hands, with a quick glance up at Ender to see if he looked like he approved. Because Topher was still under the impression that there were obvious right and wrong answers in this class, the poor thing. "Like people's personalities were mostly intact, but... I don't exactly want to run around sonic-disrupting people here in normal world."
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
"No," Topher said bluntly. "I mean... all that and, like, blowing up alleys and messing with Victor's coding and trying to get Billy brought in... that's, like. Bad. Obviously." Another quick glance upwards. "I mean, I know that. Here."
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
Silly, silly genius.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.