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Sunday, September 22, 2019

Seeing Everyone - Redux

This week we read "The Grey Havens" and finally come to the end of our text. Middle Earth is saved, and the Shire is restored. But there's one thing left to deal with...

Frodo no longer really fits into the Shire. Unlike Bilbo, he did not return from his adventure with riches, nor does he enjoy the celebrity he has gained.  He gets ill every October 6th and March 25th,  dates corresponding to his getting stabbed by the 
Nazgûl and the Ring getting destroyed respectively.  Coincidentally, Sam's firstborn is born on March 25th.  Frodo is stuck in the past, even as the future rolls on.

The One Ring is destroyed.  The lesser rings of power that still exist, the ones possessed by the Elves and Gandalf, are diminished, essentially dormant relics of a bygone age.  Indeed, the Third Age of Middle Earth is ending, and the time of the rings is over.  Gandalf and the remaining Elves will leave Middle Earth, along with two other Ringbearers - Bilbo and Frodo.  They will go to the titular "Grey Havens."

But life goes on for those remaining. Sam marries
Rosie Cotton and has more children while Merry and Pippin enjoy their celebrity status, throwing parties and wearing their war-gear for fun.  We are told:

Altogether 1420 in the Shire was a marvelous year. Not only was there wonderful
sunshine and delicious rain, in due times and perfect measure, but there seemed something more:
an air of richness and growth, and a gleam of a beauty beyond that of mortal summers
that flicker and pass upon this Middle-earth. All the children born or begotten in that year,
and there were many, were fair to see and strong, and most of them had a rich golden hair that
had before been rare among hobbits. The fruit was so plentiful that young hobbits very
nearly bathed in strawberries and cream; and later they sat on the lawns under the plum-trees
and ate, until they had made piles of stones like small pyramids or the heaped
skulls of a conqueror, and then they moved on. And no one was ill,
and everyone was pleased, except those who had to mow the grass.

How hard is it to mow the grass?  Not very.  But if life is idyllic, any work probably feels worse than it is.  But if it isn't done, would life still be idyllic?  And given the rural nature of the Shire, cut grass is of particular importance!

When we consider utopias we tend to assume they are somehow self-sufficient.  Everyone is happy and comfortable and no one really has "jobs".  But of course that's a bridge too far for the real world.  Jobs will always need to be done.  A good world requires maintenance.  How important is it, then, to appreciate those who allow the rest of us live so well?

I find a parallel between this passage and what we discussed in the first chapter, and it is fitting to end revisiting the important concept of seeing everyone.  The modern world works because of so much behind-the-scenes maintenance.  We see this best when that maintenance breaks down.  Unfixed potholes, food and product recalls, NAZIs and other hatemongers being given space in the metaphorical public square, blackouts, cell coverage dead zones, empty Wikipedia pages.  So much of our world works well - until it doesn't - and the underlying fragility becomes all too obvious.

It is important to notice and show kindness to those who upkeep our society.  Learn the names of the facility workers of the places you frequent, or wave to the trash collectors and street cleaners, or call out people and businesses on Twitter for doing the right thing, not just the wrong thing.

It is also important to remember our own role in that upkeep.  While some people's actual jobs directly support our society, that doesn't excuse the rest of us from having a part.  And if, as our text suggests, the work required to maintain a modern society is at least mildly unpleasant, then the work should be shared as much as possible.  Our society is not built on the backs of an unlucky underclass, but is created by the people, for the people.  This work is all of ours, and that's the real lesson of seeing everyone.  Beyond seeing them for who they are, try to see yourself in them.

This was a Patreon project, but it's done now, so there's no need to contribute anything.  Thanks for reading!

Sunday, September 8, 2019

Elevating Others

"Always make the other person feel important."
-Dale Carnegie

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This week we read "The Scouring of the Shire."  The Hobbits return finally to their Shire... only to find the gate locked and guarded.  To their shock, the whole Shire has become occupied by 'ruffians', men who steal the wealth of the land, enforce unfair rules on the hobbits, and beat up any who resist.  It's unclear how long this has been happening, but one thing is clear: It's been long enough.

While Frodo hopes for a peaceful resolution, battle seems inevitable.  The hobbits rouse the countryside and there is a battle in which some Hobbits are killed.  While the Shirefolk are elated at their victory, Frodo takes on the task of preventing needless destruction.  He protects those men who surrender during the fighting.

Let's back up a bit:

When the hobbits first return to the Shire, they find their people to be downtrodden and frustrated.  We are told they are welcomed into Farmer Cotton's house, where:

They sat with the family in the warm kitchen, and the Cottons
asked a few polite questions about their travels, but hardly listened to the
answers: they were far more concerned with events in the Shire.

Escapism requires some sort of comfort.  People want escapism when their life is too boring or too stressful.  But people whose livelihoods are directly in danger rarely want an escape - they want a solution.  If you're able to be, even briefly, comfortable, you can enjoy an escape from your life.  But if your personal or family's safety is in immediate danger, you're unlikely to enjoy a distraction.

While the Cotton's are doing what is polite (asking visitors about themselves), the hobbits are not.  The hobbits already know what happened in Moria and Mordor and Rohan and Gondor.  They don't gain much by telling what happened - especially if their audience is barely listening.  And it is always clear when your audience is ignoring you.

The Cotton's, like most people, are most interested in themselves.  If you want to persuade others to listen to you, you must find a way to get them invested.  To circle back to the quote we opened with:  "Always make the other person feel important."  

Now, how does persuasion fit into an ethical life?  We live in a democracy, and at least we live in communities.  Things rarely change because one person decides it.  They must get a group of people to support them.  Having a good idea, by which I mean capital "G" good, is not enough.  You must get others to buy-in.

Maybe it's easier for bad actors to make their case because the benefit is more obvious.  Robbing a bank, or a country, enriches.  Cheating means winning with less effort.  But doing good is less clearly beneficial for individuals.  We must learn how to make the case.

Giving them "the wrong side of history" shpiel, or telling privileged people to "make room" for others is not a winning argument.  What people think of us in the future is not terribly motivating, and willingly sacrificing what little influence individuals feel they have is an incredibly hard sell (It also makes power appear to be a zero-sum game, which increases social friction, and plays into some of the very worst ideas)  To persuade people, you must show them how they benefit.

Let's take diversity, which is one of those things most of my friends take for granted as good, but have a hard time explaining why it is.  When challenged, then, they are unable to respond other than to repeatedly insist - which isn't persuasion at all.  So when they encounter arguments like "People should stick with their own kind because the races have different strengths and weaknesses, and mixing causes those strengths to dilute and the weaknesses to multiply," they don't know what to say besides the very simple truth of "That's a monstrous opinion and also genetically wrong."  But calling something monstrous and scientifically unsound isn't a compelling or informative argument.  Even if it were, it only denies diversity is bad.  One still ought to show why diversity is good.

Here's what I've learned to say:  "Diversity of people means a diversity of experience.  The more varied experience a group has the better equipped they are to overcome different challenges."  It's no longer a moral issue, but a practical one.  You show the benefit in a tangible way.  This may not convince everyone.  Some will require more reasons, and some have their pride tied up in their opinion, and we need not worry about them.  Social isolation as we convince those around them will do the trick.  By elevating others and showing them the value of diversity, we simultaneously reduce the standing of racists.

It can be strange to argue such a moral issue as diversity in practical terms, but if our goal is to promote diversity, I don't think we should be committed to an ineffective tactic.

Later on, Frodo runs into this problem, too. The hobbits, now roused, are out for blood. But Frodo, tamed by his close relationship with evil, implores them to avoid any killing. The hobbits begrudgingly agree. When the battle comes Frodo's "chief part had been to prevent the hobbits in their wrath at their losses, from slaying those of their enemies who threw down their weapons. ".

Interpreted generously, Frodo is enforcing basic ethics where they are needed most: In battle. Wrath is immoral.  Those who surrender should be spared.  Otherwise, all battle becomes a bloodbath till the end, for why would anyone surrender if they'll be killed anyway?  Frodo is doing his part to create a foundation for peace after the battle is over.

But Frodo's tactics are certainly ineffective. His journey has granted him serious wisdom, but what good is it if he enforces it without teaching it.  Granted, the Shirefolk are in dire need and their certainly isn't a lot of time for education.  But Frodo does not understand the anger of his fellows, and he does not try to.  If you won't try to understand someone's point of view, if you won't validate the valid concerns they have, what hope will you have of persuasion?  Why should they listen when you don't?

Creating a groundswell of support is difficult.  It takes time and effort.  You need grit to endure the barriers you will encounter.  It is easy, at a certain point, to see the people you're convincing as targets.  After all, you're giving the same basic pitch to everyone.  But to create sustainable change, you must keep in mind the individual.  People are more likely to cling to ideas, and the people who promote those ideas, that make them feel important and seen.

The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

Information, Outrage, and Drama

This week we read "Many Partings" and "Homeward Bound".  In these chapters the hobbits begin their journey back to the Shire, stopping at Edoras to bury Theoden, Isengard to see Treebeard, and finally Bree to see Barliman.  While at Isengard, Gandalf asks Treebeard about Saruman, who has been held captive in his tower, Orthanc.  Treebeard says he's been updating Saruman on world events, and that Saruman was never happy with the news.

‘Then why did he stay to listen? Did you go into Orthanc?’ asked Gandalf.
‘Hoom, no, not into Orthanc!’ said Treebeard. ‘But he came to his
window and listened, because he could not get news in any other way, and though
he hated the news, he was greedy to have it; and I saw that he heard it all. But I added
a great many things to the news that it was good for him to think of.
He grew very weary. He always was hasty. That was his ruin.’

I was thinking earlier this week about "drama".  A lot of people pride themselves on "not getting involved in drama," but what does that really mean?  Who's dating whom, tensions between friends, who's feeling stressed out, etc.  In that case, drama is just information.  What's so bad about that?

Saruman is defeated and trapped.  There's nothing really for him to do but gather information, so he does.  That's understandable.  The problem, actually, stems from Treebeard.  He says he 'added' things 'it was good for [Saruman] to think of'.  Treebeard here is not just giving him information, but using the opportunity to teach him a lesson.

Maybe that's where information becomes "drama."  Sharing information about your friends to teach people a lesson, or some other agenda.  Sharing information on its own is fine, but when you 'add' your own editorializing, that crosses a line.  It's important to know what's happening in your friend group, but you perhaps don't need to know why.

I host a regular game night that has sought to bridge my different friend groups together.  As a result, my friends now have connections that exist primarily through me.  By coincidence two attendees of this game night, from two entirely different friend groups, have now gone through divorces.  When people started asking why they no longer came, I was transparent - they're busy dealing with their divorce.  When pressed for more details, I was less open.  I knew the details, but it didn't serve a purpose to share them, and would just be gossip and "drama".

Of course, Saruman holds some of the responsibility.  Saruman doesn't notice Treebeard is leading him astray.  His greed for any information blinds him to such reflection.  Treebeard exploits Saruman's hunger, and so causes his ruin.  And while we shouldn't blame the victim, how can we expect the assailant to do better?  Moreover, what kind of ethical life can we pursue if we also say ethics is only possible for the powerful?  There are so many instances in our life when we don't have power - but powerlessness does not exempt us from our ethical duties.

I think social media companies are the "Treebeards"of our time.  They give us what they think we should have - what they think best benefits them.  If we spend more time on their platforms arguing than agreeing, then it is in their interest to outrage us as often as possible.  But endless outrage is not healthy, for us nor society.

It would be nice if Facebook and other social media sites stopped working to get us addicted to their platforms.  But that seems unlikely.  It is therefore incumbent on us to learn to resist their tricks, or at least be aware when we fall for them, so we might resist them in the future.

That's drama.  Knowing there are concentration camps in America is important information to know.  Knowing your friend's uncle supports them and loudly says so online is drama.  He doesn't have any power to close them.  Arguing with him, even if you succeed, has no impact.  It would be better to let him be and focus your energies on other methods to close the camps.

Your outrage must be aimed against people in power in ways they will feel it.  Otherwise, you will "grow very weary", and it will "be your ruin."  Don't be hasty with your outrage.  Wanting information only to satiate your hunger or spreading it to teach a lesson or blow off steam, is drama.  Take a breath and use your outrage, political or personal, with intention.  If we don't, we will be at the mercy of the Treebeards, which paternalistically give us only what they think we should get, while we stand at the window and listen, greedily updating our news feeds for the latest outrage, but too burnt out to address anything.

The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!