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fandomhigh2016-08-08 07:04 am
endsthegame) wrote in fandomhigh2016-08-08 07:04 am
Entry tags:
Practical Philosophy, Monday
"It's been a quiet week," Ender said, "But for the market. It's left me thinking about an old class topic: our judgment of others, and what it means."
He took a swig from a bottle of water. "It's the idea of judging people that drove the human philosophers of old into endless debates, on when it was okay to judge something terrible or evil. They developed extensive theories on what made something good and right. Take the old Greek philosophers such as Socrates and Aristotle, who believed in what's called 'virtue ethics' - the idea that the character of the person defines the morality of his actions. Socrates argued, for instance, that if a person knew what was right, then he would do right. It was only not knowing what 'good' was that might cause someone to do evil."
"Then there were the stoics, who believed virtue laid in contentment, in being happy with what you're given, whatever it was. Opposite them, the hedonists, who believed 'good' was anything that made you feel happy. Later philosophers came up with the theory of consequentialism, the idea that your morality depends on the consequences of what you does. Some philosophers felt that good deeds were only good if they worked to better the country, for instance. On the other hand, deontologists such as Kant believed that goodness came from doing, and the reasons someone might have to do something. If you were doing something out of duty, for instance, then according to Kant, you were doing some good. 'Nothing in the world can possibly be conceived which could be called good without qualification except a good will.' Your intentions are what make you good."
He sat back.
"As I said, we all make our judgments. Of ourselves, of the people around us, of their pasts - especially around here. On what do you base your judgments? I think most of us realize that there is no such thing as pure good and evil - but how we judge other people tends to depend a lot on what we were taught and where we come from."
Another faint smile.
"I personally believe that character is important," he said. "Once you try to understand what makes people do what they do, it becomes that much harder to see them as evil. After all, most of us do what we think is right, even if our ideas of what right is are different. And in doing these things, we inspire other people to act in their own way."
He took a swig from a bottle of water. "It's the idea of judging people that drove the human philosophers of old into endless debates, on when it was okay to judge something terrible or evil. They developed extensive theories on what made something good and right. Take the old Greek philosophers such as Socrates and Aristotle, who believed in what's called 'virtue ethics' - the idea that the character of the person defines the morality of his actions. Socrates argued, for instance, that if a person knew what was right, then he would do right. It was only not knowing what 'good' was that might cause someone to do evil."
"Then there were the stoics, who believed virtue laid in contentment, in being happy with what you're given, whatever it was. Opposite them, the hedonists, who believed 'good' was anything that made you feel happy. Later philosophers came up with the theory of consequentialism, the idea that your morality depends on the consequences of what you does. Some philosophers felt that good deeds were only good if they worked to better the country, for instance. On the other hand, deontologists such as Kant believed that goodness came from doing, and the reasons someone might have to do something. If you were doing something out of duty, for instance, then according to Kant, you were doing some good. 'Nothing in the world can possibly be conceived which could be called good without qualification except a good will.' Your intentions are what make you good."
He sat back.
"As I said, we all make our judgments. Of ourselves, of the people around us, of their pasts - especially around here. On what do you base your judgments? I think most of us realize that there is no such thing as pure good and evil - but how we judge other people tends to depend a lot on what we were taught and where we come from."
Another faint smile.
"I personally believe that character is important," he said. "Once you try to understand what makes people do what they do, it becomes that much harder to see them as evil. After all, most of us do what we think is right, even if our ideas of what right is are different. And in doing these things, we inspire other people to act in their own way."
Re: Talk.
Which was still such a novel concept, she had to take her time to say it, to sort of mull over those words.
"Eventually, maybe I'll learn to understand humans, at the very least. And their sense of right and wrong, and how they leap to conclusions they never try to confirm. And how they grow." She hesitated, and then ventured, "Do you suppose they'll ever understand me?"
She had no idea, and the prospect of living here forever while humans came and went, lived, grew, and died and were replaced with other humans, all while never being understood was a terrifying one. She'd been lonely on Homeworld, perhaps, but she'd never quite been this sort of alone.
Re: Talk.
He studied her for a moment. "But some will try," he said, "And if you let them, you might find they'll come to understand you better than you hoped. Or feared."
Re: Talk.
And then, in a sort of burst of resolve, she straightened her shoulders and squared her jaw and said, "But I do."
She wanted that understanding. It was something she'd never had before. Even on Homeworld. Even with others of her own kind.
Re: Talk.
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"Well... the alternative is resigning myself to existing forever among beings who either assume I'm like them, or that I'm just a very fancy rock."
And truth be told, Era 2 Peridots weren't even all that fancy. They were like... budget Peridots. Peridots that where put together with spit and a prayer, comparatively.
"Clods," she muttered, because sometimes it just had to be said.
Re: Talk.
He had. For a long time.
RE: Re: Talk.
This was an important question. After all, when she said forever, Peridot wasn't using hyperbole.
Re: Talk.
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She didn't sound entirely convinced.
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The thought had just occurred to her that they were fragile, and their lives came and went at a rate that was almost a joke among Gems. Maybe there was value in an attempt, but what happened when the one who made that attempt was gone?
Re: Talk.
Interesting, in a way. Also sad. "You're worried?"
RE: Re: Talk.
But if it was...
"Gems don't die. Not unless something breaks us."
Re: Talk.
He sat back. "Well, all things must end," he said. "Even gems, eventually. Is there much of a point in avoiding something that might be good for you, just because it will end?"
RE: Re: Talk.
She cut herself off, then. Sat in stunned silence as though the idea of even saying what she wanted to say as burning at her.
"I've never..."
She was young, by Gem standards. She was new. She hadn't lost anybody before. Not anybody who cared. And the idea of never going back to Homeworld left a burning feeling in her chest that left her short of breath. She didn't love Homeworld, didn't think anybody would even miss her if she never returned. But she knew where she belonged, there. She could at least be proud of her place, her station. Secure in the knowledge that she had a purpose.
The idea of becoming close to anything or anybody and then losing it was terrifying. She wouldn't know what to do.
Re: Talk.
"You've never...?" he prompted gently. "It's okay, Peridot."
Re: Talk.
"I've never lost anything but Homeworld before," she said, quietly. "I've never... had anybody in my life... who mattered enough... that I didn't want to lose them."
And that on its own was a little too much like peeling open her emotions to bare to the world at large, so she was going to just clam up again.
Re: Talk.
"You will," he said, and sat up a little more. "Would you like a hug, or to be left alone?"
He wouldn't judge her for any of those choices, or any other.
RE: Re: Talk.
... Homeworld was also not terribly touchy-feely.
Re: Talk.
RE: Re: Talk.
She settled on, "You're offering me friendship?"
Re: Talk.
He'd have to remember to give Peridot his multiversal number, later.
RE: Re: Talk.
"Then yes, I would like one of these... hugs." A beat. "Please."
The best way to know was to do, right?
Re: Talk.
RE: Re: Talk.
"How does it work?"
Really, somebody needed to write a manual on human behaviors.
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