fandomhigh | Practical Philosophy, Monday

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practical philosophy

Practical Philosophy, Monday

"There are those of us who come here believing very strongly in duty," Ender said. "Others who come here to escape it - and some to who it's absolutely not a part of their lives."

He smiled a little.

"I had a mentor, once," he said. "I was told that people were free, unless humanity needed them, and that humanity never asked us to be happy, merely to act on its behalf - for its survival. Happiness, he felt, was a luxury that at times we could scarcely afford. To opt out of doing our duty at such a time was the worst crime imaginable: a crime of stupidity."

He took a sip of water. "I've met people who disagreed, since," he said. "I've also met people whose lives were so intricately bound to these rules they didn't even know where they stopped and the rules began. Some of you have already made your views fairly clear already, but I'm curious as to everyone else's input, too.

"How important is duty? Do we people all carry some grand responsibility to our species, or should we exist only for ourselves and the development of our self? And if we live for duty, then when does that end? Is there some point where all of us may be afforded personal freedom, or are we perpetually tied to our responsibilities, whether we flee from them or not?"

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"I think the important here is, as always, your choice in the matter," Celia offered quietly. "If I am coerced into doing something and the excuse I'm given is that it's my duty -- well, that rather colors things, doesn't it? If I feel a sense of responsibility towards an end, it speaks to my character as to whether I fulfill my prescribed duty or not, but if I am born to a task that I never had a say in...then it's not really about duty so much as obligation."

She shook her head, adding, "I think there's really a difference, there. There's something noble and good about the concept of duty -- we think of knights of old and sacrifice. It's romantic. But when it's obligation, you can dress it up as a sense of duty all you want, but the fact of the matter is that you're just doing what someone else told you to."

Was it obvious that this very thing was weighing on her mind a bit, lately? Celia was sure it was telegraphed in her every word.

"I... never thought of it quite that way," Elsa admitted, biting her lip as she looked at Celia thoughtfully. "Even my... obligation... I have a duty to step up to, if that makes any sense at all. I could run. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it. But I've made it my duty, because otherwise I'm simply going through motions that are meaningless to me, beyond what they mean I am and am not allowed to do."

She worried her lip a moment more before adding, "It almost certainly makes a difference as to what those duties or obligations are, though."

"It does," Celia agreed with a nod, watching Elsa carefully. "I think your particular circumstances color your obligation into duty, if I'm interpreting things correctly -- you've accepted it, and instilled it with personal meaning, and there's quite a bit of nobility in that. But do you think things would be different if you didn't have your sister to think of, and you could shed your duty and choose a different path?"

She asked it gently, not wanting to step on toes or make Elsa uncomfortable, but it was something that she was curious about -- particularly given the little bit she knew about Elsa's attitude towards her abilities.

"If I didn't have my sister to think of, there are a lot of things that would be different," Elsa replied, after a moment of thought. "I spent some time last semester as a young woman whose definition of fear walked a very different line than my own. It made me wonder..."

She tapered off at that, frowned thoughtfully, and then shook her head a little.

"Whether Anna is in the scenario or not, however, I would still have the same obligation, the same duty. It would just have different complications attached to it, instead."

"Is there any element of choice, in terms of your duty?" Celia replied, tilting her head. "Any freedom within the confines of what would be allowable? Regardless of your sister and the complications that arise from her presence...can you still pursue things you love, in the face of what's expected of you? And if not, why not?"

She blushed, shaking her head, and added, "I don't mean to be nosy, I just -- that's what I'd ask myself, in your position."

"They're all good questions," Elsa offered softly. "And I hope you have taken the time to ask them yourself, as well. They seem like the sort that could benefit anybody to know the answers to."

And then she shook her head.

"I don't know that I would have the time or the freedom to pursue much of anything, once I take responsibility back home. I know my parents, the two of them, didn't always manage to make time for me when I needed them growing up, with all of the same obligations and duties split between them. That wasn't for lack of trying, of course. But there's only one me."

"That's not true," Celia pointed out with a tiny smile. "There's your sister. Is she significantly younger than you, or could you delegate a bit to her, somehow?"

"There are only a few years between us," Elsa admitted, "but that doesn't do anything for the concerns that I have about being around her."

The ones that she couldn't actually tell Anna about. And honesty was kind of important if she was hoping to delegate 'ruling a kingdom' duties to her sister.

"Does she know?" Celia had to wonder, quietly. "Your concerns, I mean. She -- if she's old enough to understand them, she might be able to...help you. Both in the sense of your obligations, and in terms of -- anything else."

She was being careful here, but she hoped Elsa took her meaning -- it was much easier to safeguard oneself against a danger they knew about, after all.

Elsa shook her head a little, looking down at the grass. Hello, grass.

"She doesn't, no. She used to, when we were both very little. But she lost those memories, and we were told that it was best that she never find out, that... that sort of thing... remain something she has no exposure to, for her own safety."

And when a magical troll told you that removing magic from your sister's life was the best thing for her, you listened.

Celia sighed, a sharp exhale from her nose due more to frustration with Elsa's situation than anything else. "What she doesn't know can't hurt her, huh?" she said softly, carefully, as she glanced over. "No wonder you're -- you treat those sorts of things differently than I do. I don't have anyone but myself to hurt."

But that was depressing in its own, special way.

"I just can't imagine not...allowing myself any -- release," she added quietly. "I understand why, but it's...it's really a shame, Elsa. Though I feel like it'd be remiss to point out that she isn't here...."

"If you're coerced into something, it's not really a duty, now, is it?" Joker responded. "I mean, not unless you're one of the whackjobs who uses that kind of logic to refuse to pay taxes -- you're not, are you? But, I mean, if you're stuck having to do something against your will... what do they have on you? What'll happen if you don't?"

"Shunning. Exclusion. Guilt," Celia supplied. "Plenty of people are coerced into things because their parents want them to do them, aren't they? And it's often presented as a duty to your family name, or the like. At least, in my experience, that's what it is."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Joker agreed. "Back home, at least half of the kids I went to school with were the children of soldiers. If the kids wanted to be actors, or poets, or even scientists... There was a lot of yelling. Sometimes in public. It got awkward more than a few times."

"So kark obligation or destiny or whatever," Cade said. "It's your life, not theirs."

Issues, party of two?

"I agree emphatically, despite not knowing what kark means, but sometimes it's not that simple," Celia countered. "What if there's money, or children, or some other...external force keeping you from bowing out?"

Here, have some of her issues! Sharing was caring.

"Do you get the money?" Cade asked. "Is it a lot of money?"

Pirate, so...

"Sure. In theory, you're entitled to a fortune for fulfilling your duty. Does that change it?" she wondered.

"Depends," Cade said. "Will fulfilling the duty part have a high probability of me be completely dead before I get to spend the money?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it'll just be a tedious exercise that saps your entire will to live." Celia shrugged. "Either way, it's your duty, and the choice to abandon it has to be a carefully-executed one."

"Or you can just stomp off and refuse to answer phone calls until they go away?"

Don't listen to Cade advice. It never goes well.

"But what if you'll die if you ignore it? That could be a possibility."

Hello, Celia's fears about her stupid magic contract, how are you?

Cade made a face. "So the choices are death or probable death? Kark that."

Re: Talk.

pasunereveuse.livejournal.com - 2014-05-19 20:38 (UTC) - Expand

"I like the distinction," Eleanor said, mulling it over. "If someone else has laid a task upon you, then you can't ... it was never a free choice. Someone else chose for you."

"Duty has more to it than just following instructions," Celia said firmly, nodding.

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