Books: Moral Deliberations in Modern Cinema
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Sam Vaknin >> Moral Deliberations in Modern Cinema
The product called "Titanic" took away the lives of its end-users. Our
"gut justice" tells us that the owner should have paid in kind. Faulty
engineering, insufficient number of lifeboats, over-capacity, hubris,
passengers and crew not drilled to face emergencies, extravagant
claims regarding the ship's resilience, contravening the captain's
professional judgement. All these seem to be sufficient grounds to the
death penalty.
And yet, this is not the real question. The serious problem is this :
WHY should anyone pay in his future for his actions in the past?
First, there are some thorny issues to be eliminated. Such as
determinism: if there is no free will, there can be no personal
responsibility. Another is the preservation of personal identity: are
the person who committed the act and the person who is made to pay for
it - one and the same? If the answer is in the affirmative, in which
sense are they the same, the physical, the mental? Is the "overlap"
only limited and probabilistic? Still, we could assume, for this
discussion's sake, that the personal identity is undeniably and
absolutely preserved and that there is free will and, therefore, that
people can predict the outcomes of their actions, to a reasonable
degree of accuracy and that they elect to accept these outcomes prior
to the commission of their acts or to their omission. All this does
not answer the question that opened this paragraph. Even if there were
a contract signed between the acting person and the world, in which
the person willingly, consciously and intelligently (=without
diminished responsibility) accepted the future outcome of his acts,
the questions would remain: WHY should it be so? Why cannot we
conceive of a world in which acts and outcomes are divorced? It is
because we cannot believe in an a-causal world.
Causality is a relationship (mostly between two things, or, rather,
events, the cause and the effect). Something generates or produces
another. Therefore, it is the other's efficient cause and it acts upon
it (=it acts to bring it about) through the mechanism of efficient
causation. A cause can be a direct physical mechanism or an
explanatory feature (historical cause). Of Aristotle's Four Causes
(Formal, Material, Efficient and Final), only the efficient cause
creates something distinguishable from itself. The causal discourse,
therefore, is problematic (how can a cause lead to an effect,
indistinguishable from itself?). Singular Paradigmatic Causal
Statements (Event A caused Event B) differ from General ones (Event A
causes Event B). Both are inadequate in dealing with mundane, routine,
causal statements because they do not reveal an OVERT relation between
the two events discussed. Moreover, in daily usage we treat facts (as
well as events) as causes. Not all the philosophers are in agreement
regarding factual causation. Davidson, for instance, admits that facts
can be RELEVANT to causal explanations but refuses to accept them AS
reasons. Acts may be distinct from facts, philosophically, but not in
day-to-day regular usage. By laymen (the vast majority of humanity,
that is), though, they are perceived to be the same.
Pairs of events that are each other's cause and effect are accorded a
special status. But, that one follows the other (even if invariably)
is insufficient grounds to endow them with this status. This is the
famous "Post hoc, ergo propter hoc" fallacy. Other relations must be
weighed and the possibility of common causation must be seriously
contemplated. Such sequencing is, conceptually, not even necessary:
simultaneous causation and backwards causation are part of modern
physics, for instance.
Time seems to be irrelevant to the status of events, though both time
and causation share an asymmetric structure (A causes B but B does not
cause A). The direction (the asymmetry) of the causal chain is not of
the same type as the direction (asymmetry) of time. The former is
formal, the latter, presumably, physical, or mental. A more serious
problem, to my mind, is the converse: what sets apart causal (cause
and effect) pairs of events from other pairs in which both
member-events are the outcomes of a common cause? Event B can
invariably follow Event A and still not be its effect. Both events
could have been caused by a common cause. A cause either necessitates
the effect, or is a sufficient condition for its occurrence. The
sequence is either inevitable, or possible. The meaninglessness of
this sentence is evident.
Here, philosophers diverge. Some say (following Hume's reasoning and
his constant conjunction relation between events) that a necessary
causal relation exists between events when one is the inevitable
outcome (=follows) the other. Others propound a weaker version: the
necessity of the effect is hypothetical or conditional, given the laws
of nature. Put differently: to say that A necessitates (=causes) B is
no more than to say that it is a result of the laws of nature that
when A happens, so does B. Hempel generalized this approach. He said
that a statement of a fact (whether a private or a general fact) is
explained only if deduced from other statements, at least one of which
is a statement of a general scientific law.
This is the "Covering Law Model" and it implies a symmetry between
explaining and predicting (at least where private facts are
concerned). If an event can be explained, it could have been predicted
and vice versa. Needless to say that Hempel's approach did not get us
nearer to solving the problems of causal priority and of
indeterministic causation.
The Empiricists went a step further. They stipulated that the laws of
nature are contingencies and not necessary truths. Other chains of
events are possible where the laws of nature are different. This is
the same tired regularity theory in a more exotic guise. They are all
descendants of Hume's definition of causality: "An object followed by
another and where all the objects that resemble the first are followed
by objects that resemble the second." Nothing in the world is,
therefore, a causal necessity, events are only constantly conjoined.
Regularities in our experience condition us to form the idea of causal
necessity and to deduce that causes must generate events. Kant called
this latter deduction "A bastard of the imagination, impregnated by
experience" with no legitimate application in the world. It also
constituted a theological impediment. God is considered to be "Causa
Sui", His own cause. But any application of a causal chain or force,
already assumes the existence of a cause. This existence cannot,
therefore, be the outcome of the use made of it. God had to be recast
as the uncaused cause of the existence of all things contingent and
His existence necessitated no cause because He, himself, is necessary.
This is flimsy stuff and it gets even flimsier when the issue of
causal deviance is debated.
A causal deviance is an abnormal, though causal, relation between
events or states of the world. It mainly arises when we introduce
intentional action and perception into the theory of causation. Let us
revert to the much-maligned owner of the sinking Titanic. He intended
to do one thing and another happened. Granted, if he intended to do
something and his intention was the cause of his doing so - then we
could have said that he intentionally committed an act. But what if he
intended to do one thing and out came another? And what if he intended
to do something, mistakenly did something else and, still,
accidentally, achieved what he set out to do? The popular example is
if someone intends to do something and gets so nervous that it happens
even without an act being committed (intends to refuse an invitation
by his boss, gets so nervous that he falls asleep and misses the
party). Are these actions and intentions in their classical senses?
There is room for doubt. Davidson narrows down the demands. To him,
"thinking causes" (causally efficient propositional attitudes) are
nothing but causal relations between events with the right application
of mental predicates which ascribe propositional attitudes supervening
the right application of physical predicates. This approach omits
intention altogether, not to mention the ascription of desire and
belief.
But shouldn't have the hapless owner availed his precious place to
women and children? Should not he have obeyed the captain's orders
(=the marine law)? Should we succumb to laws that put our lives at
risk (fight in a war, sink with a ship)? The reason that women and
children are preferred over men is that they represent the future.
They are either capable of bringing life to the world (women) - or of
living longer (children). Societal etiquette reflects the arithmetic
of the species, in this (and in many another) case. But if this were
entirely and exclusively so, then young girls and female infants would
have been preferred over all the other groups of passengers. Old women
would have been left with the men, to die. That the actual (and
declared) selection processes differed from our theoretical exercise
says a lot about the vigorousness and applicability of our theories -
and a lot about the real world out there. The owner's behaviour may
have been deplorable - but it, definitely, was natural. He put his
interests (his survival) above the concerns of his society and his
species. Most of us would have done the same under the same
circumstances.
The owner of the ship - though "Newly Rich" - undoubtedly belonged to
the First Class, Upper Crust, Cream of Society passengers. These were
treated to the lifeboats before the passengers of the lower classes
and decks. Was this a morally right decision? For sure, it was not
politically correct, in today's terms. Class and money distinctions
were formally abolished three decades ago in the enlightened West.
Discrimination between human beings in now allowed only on the basis
of merit (=on the basis of one's natural endowments). Why should we
think one basis for discrimination preferable to another? Can we
eliminate discrimination completely and if it were possible, would it
have been desirable?
The answers, in my view, are that no basis of discrimination can hold
the moral high ground. They are all morally problematic because they
are deterministic and assign independent, objective, exogenous values
to humans. On the other hand, we are not born equal, nor do we proceed
to develop equally, or live under the same circumstances and
conditions. It is impossible to equate the unequal. Discrimination is
not imposed by humans on an otherwise egalitarian world. It is
introduced by the world into human society. And the elimination of
discrimination would constitute a grave error. The inequalities among
humans and the ensuing conflicts are the fuel that feeds the engines
of human development. Hopes, desires, aspirations and inspiration are
all the derivatives of discrimination or of the wish to be favoured,
or preferred over others. Disparities of money create markets, labour,
property, planning, wealth and capital. Mental inequalities lead to
innovation and theory. Knowledge differentials are at the heart of
educational institutions, professionalism, government and so on.
Osmotic and diffusive forces in human society are all the results of
incongruences, disparities, differences, inequalities and the negative
and positive emotions attached to them. The passengers of the first
class were preferred because they paid more for their tickets.
Inevitably, a tacit portion of the price went to amortize the costs of
"class insurance": should anything bad happen to this boat, persons
who paid a superior price will be entitled to receive a superior
treatment. There is nothing morally wrong with this. Some people get
to sit in the front rows of a theatre, or to travel in luxury, or to
receive superior medical treatment (or any medical treatment)
precisely because of this reason. There is no practical or
philosophical difference between an expensive liver transplant and a
place in a life boat. Both are lifesavers.
A natural disaster is no Great Equalizer. Nothing is. Even the
argument that money is "external" or "accidental" to the rich
individual is weak. Often, people who marry for money considerations
are judged to be insincere or worse (cunning, conspiring, evil). "He
married her for her money", we say, as though the she-owner and the
money were two separate things. The equivalent sentence: "He married
her for her youth or for her beauty" sounds flawed. But youth and
beauty are more temporary and transient than money. They are really
accidental because the individual has no responsibility for or share
in their generation and has no possibility to effect their long-term
preservation. Money, on the other hand, is generated or preserved (or
both) owing to the personality of its owner. It is a better reflection
of personality than youth, beauty and many other (transient or
situation-dependent) "character" traits. Money is an integral part of
its owner and a reliable witness as to his mental disposition. It is,
therefore, a valid criterion for discrimination.
The other argument in favour of favouring the first class passengers
is their contribution to society. A rich person contributes more to
his society in the shorter and medium term than a poor person. Vincent
Van Gogh may have been a million times more valuable to humanity, as a
whole, than his brother Theo - in the long run. But in the
intermediate term, Theo made it possible for Vincent and many others
(family, employees, suppliers, their dependants and his country) to
survive by virtue of his wealth. Rich people feed and cloth poor
people directly (employment, donations) and indirectly (taxation). The
opposite, alas, is not the case. Yet, this argument is flawed because
it does not take time into account. We have no way to predict the
future with any certainty.
Each person carries the Marshall's baton in his bag, the painter's
brush, the author's fables. It is the potential that should count. A
selection process, which would have preferred Theo to Vincent would
have been erroneous. In the long run, Vincent proved more beneficial
to human society and in more ways - including financially - then Theo
could have ever been.
Being John Malkovich
By: Dr. Sam Vaknin
A quintessential loser, an out-of-job puppeteer, is hired by a firm,
whose offices are ensconced in a half floor (literally. The ceiling is
about a metre high, reminiscent of Taniel's hallucinatory Alice in
Wonderland illustrations). By sheer accident, he discovers a tunnel (a
"portal", in Internet-age parlance), which sucks its visitors into the
mind of the celebrated actor, John Malkovich. The movie is a tongue in
cheek discourse of identity, gender and passion in an age of languid
promiscuity. It poses all the right metaphysical riddles and presses
the viewers' intellectual stimulation buttons.
A two line bit of dialogue, though, forms the axis of this
nightmarishly chimerical film. John Malkovich (played by himself),
enraged and bewildered by the unabashed commercial exploitation of the
serendipitous portal to his mind, insists that Craig, the
aforementioned puppet master, cease and desist with his activities.
"It is MY brain" - he screams and, with a typical American finale, "I
will see you in court". Craig responds: "But, it was I who discovered
the portal. It is my livelihood".
This apparently innocuous exchange disguises a few very unsettling
ethical dilemmas.
The basic question is "whose brain is it, anyway"? Does John Malkovich
OWN his brain? Is one's brain - one's PROPERTY? Property is usually
acquired somehow. Is our brain "acquired"? It is clear that we do not
acquire the hardware (neurones) and software (electrical and chemical
pathways) we are born with. But it is equally clear that we do
"acquire" both brain mass and the contents of our brains (its wiring
or irreversible chemical changes) through learning and experience.
Does this process of acquisition endow us with property rights?
It would seem that property rights pertaining to human bodies are
fairly restricted. We have no right to sell our kidneys, for instance.
Or to destroy our body through the use of drugs. Or to commit an
abortion at will. Yet, the law does recognize and strives to enforce
copyrights, patents and other forms of intellectual property rights.
This dichotomy is curious. For what is intellectual property but a
mere record of the brain's activities? A book, a painting, an
invention are the documentation and representation of brain waves.
They are mere shadows, symbols of the real presence - our mind. How
can we reconcile this contradiction? We are deemed by the law to be
capable of holding full and unmitigated rights to the PRODUCTS of our
brain activity, to the recording and documentation of our brain waves.
But we hold only partial rights to the brain itself, their originator.
This can be somewhat understood if we were to consider this article,
for instance. It is composed on a word processor. I do not own full
rights to the word processing software (merely a licence), nor is the
laptop I use my property - but I posses and can exercise and enforce
full rights regarding this article.
Admittedly, it is a partial parallel, at best: the computer and word
processing software are passive elements. It is my brain that does the
authoring. And so, the mystery remains: how can I own the article -
but not my brain? Why do I have the right to ruin the article at will
- but not to annihilate my brain at whim?
Another angle of philosophical attack is to say that we rarely hold
rights to nature or to life. We can copyright a photograph we take of
a forest - but not the forest. To reduce it to the absurd: we can own
a sunset captured on film - but never the phenomenon thus documented.
The brain is natural and life's pivot - could this be why we cannot
fully own it?
Wrong premises inevitably lead to wrong conclusions. We often own
natural objects and manifestations, including those related to human
life directly. We even issue patents for sequences of human DNA. And
people do own forests and rivers and the specific views of sunsets.
Some scholars raise the issues of exclusivity and scarcity as the
precursors of property rights. My brain can be accessed only by myself
and its is one of a kind (sui generis). True but not relevant. One
cannot rigorously derive from these properties of our brain a right to
deny others access to them (should this become technologically
feasible) - or even to set a price on such granted access. In other
words, exclusivity and scarcity do not constitute property rights or
even lead to their establishment. Other rights may be at play (the
right to privacy, for instance) - but not the right to own property
and to derive economic benefits from such ownership.
On the contrary, it is surprisingly easy to think of numerous
exceptions to a purported natural right of single access to one's
brain. If one memorized the formula to cure AIDS or cancer and refused
to divulge it for a reasonable compensation - surely, we should feel
entitled to invade his brain and extract it? Once such technology is
available - shouldn't authorized bodies of inspection have access to
the brains of our leaders on a periodic basis? And shouldn't we all
gain visitation rights to the minds of great men and women of science,
art and culture - as we do today gain access to their homes and to the
products of their brains?
There is one hidden assumption, though, in both the movie and this
article. It is that mind and brain are one. The portal leads to John
Malkovich's MIND - yet, he keeps talking about his BRAIN and writhing
physically on the screen. The portal is useless without JM's mind.
Indeed, one can wonder whether JM's mind is not an INTEGRAL part of
the portal - structurally and functionally inseparable from it. If so,
does not the discoverer of the portal hold equal rights to John
Malkovich's mind, an integral part thereof?
The portal leads to JM's mind. Can we prove that it leads to his
brain? Is this identity automatic? Of course not. It is the old
psychophysical question, at the heart of dualism - still far from
resolved. Can a MIND be copyrighted or patented? If no one knows WHAT
is the mind - how can it be the subject of laws and rights? If JM is
bothered by the portal voyagers, the intruders - he surely has legal
recourse, but not through the application of the rights to own
property and to benefit from it. These rights provide him with no
remedy because their subject (the mind) is a mystery.
Can JM sue Craig and his clientele for unauthorized visits to his mind
(trespassing) - IF he is unaware of their comings and goings and
unperturbed by them? Moreover, can he prove that the portal leads to
HIS mind, that it is HIS mind that is being visited? Is there a way to
PROVE that one has visited another's mind? (See: "On Empathy").
And if property rights to one's brain and mind were firmly established
- how will telepathy (if ever proven) be treated legally? Or mind
reading? The recording of dreams? Will a distinction be made between a
mere visit - and the exercise of influence on the host and his / her
manipulation (similar questions arise in time travel)?
This, precisely, is where the film crosses the line between the
intriguing and the macabre. The master puppeteer, unable to resist his
urges, manipulates John Malkovich and finally possesses him
completely. This is so clearly wrong, so manifestly forbidden, so
patently immoral, that the film loses its urgent ambivalence, its
surrealistic moral landscape and deteriorates into another banal
comedy of situations.
Dreamcatcher - The Myth of Destructibility
By: Dr. Sam Vaknin
Read these essays first:
The Habitual Identity
Death, Meaning, and Identity
Being John Malkovich
"Shattered" Identity
More Film REVIEWS - HERE!
In the movie "Dreamcatcher", four childhood friends, exposed to an
alien, disguised as a retarded child, develop psychic powers. Years
later they reunite only to confront a vicious extraterrestrial
life-form. Only two survive but they succeed to eradicate the monster
by incinerating it and crushing its tiny off-spring underfoot.
Being mortal ourselves, we cannot conceive of an indestructible
entity. The artifacts of popular culture - thrillers, action and
sci-fi films, video games, computer viruses - assume that all
organisms, organizations and automata possess fatal vulnerabilities.
Medicine and warfare are predicated on a similar contention.
We react with shock and horror when we are faced with "resistant
stains" of bacteria or with creatures, machines, or groups able to
survive and thrive in extremely hostile environments.
Destruction is multi-faceted. Even the simplest system has a structure
and performs functions. If the spatial continuity or arrangement of an
entity's structure is severed or substantially transformed - its
functions are usually adversely affected. Direct interference with a
system's functionality is equally deleterious.
We can render a system dysfunctional by inhibiting or reversing any
stage in the complex processes involved - or by preventing the
entity's communication with its environs. Another method of
annihilation involves the alteration of the entity's context - its
surroundings, its codes and signals, its interactive patterns, its
potential partners, friends and foes.
Finding the lethal weaknesses of an organism, an apparatus, or a
society is described as a process of trial and error. But the outcome
is guaranteed: mortal susceptibility is assumed to be a universal
trait. No one and nothing is perfectly immune, utterly invulnerable,
or beyond extermination.
Yet, what is poison to one species is nectar to another. Water can be
either toxic or indispensable, depending on the animal, the automaton,
or the system. Scorching temperatures, sulfur emissions, ammonia or
absolute lack of oxygen are, to some organisms, the characteristics of
inviting habitats. To others, the very same are deadly.
Can we conceive of an indestructible thing - be it unicellular or
multicellular, alive or robotic, composed of independent individuals
or acting in perfect, centrally-dictated unison? Can anything be, in
principle, eternal?
This question is not as outlandish as it sounds. By fighting disease
and trying to postpone death, for instance, we aspire to immortality
and imperishability. Some of us believe in God - an entity securely
beyond ruin. Intuitively, we consider the Universe - if not time and
space - to be everlasting, though constantly metamorphosing.
What is common to these examples of infinite resilience is their
unbounded and unparalleled size and might. Lesser objects are born or
created. Since there has been a time, prior to their genesis, in which
they did not exist - it is easy to imagine a future without them.