For David
JORGE SECADA
click here to download this essay as a pdf
Several years ago, during one of my memorable and long visits to Potsdam, I had a conversation with David. Mike McKenna was there, and he has now written an interesting and sharp note on a view that he attributes to me: that, morally, one should never, or perhaps only very rarely, judge an agent; that one should judge only the agent’s acts. To be fair, Mike showed me his piece and asked me whether that was indeed my view. His article is a wonderful contribution to this collection and a fitting gift for David. I would not want to in any way undermine it, though I did mention to him that the conversation was personal.
Let me explain.
I have no views, no firm or settled views, that would issue in such a prescription. That is, there is a sense in which I do not hold views regarding such matters. I do have opinions, but they are revisable and, most importantly, open to much qualification.
More generally, I am wary of philosophical claims since I know that they can be reasonably disputed. Even the most reasonable and well argued for, coming from truly extraordinary philosophical minds, can be and have been opposed by other comparably intelligent and informed philosophers. I am, like David, a Platonist in this regard: philosophy seeks understanding, a never-ending pursuit; theses and arguments are mere instruments along the way, always opening a further road to explore ahead, very seldom closing it, never when the matter is significant and truly philosophical. I am also a Platonist in the sense that I tend to believe that the written expression of philosophical theses and arguments is second-best to conversation and dialogue, and even more radically that all linguistic formulations are at the service of a grasp that transcends linguistic expression, an understanding that can generate indeterminately large narratives.
My only settled philosophical views are hermeneutic: I do have firm claims about how to interpret certain philosophical writings, but even then with some pertinent qualifications. We struggle to make our view clear in writing; and we often reject certain renderings of them. But good philosophy admits of development and clarification. Truly good philosophy feeds centuries of further articulations.
Focusing on the view at issue, I would qualify it in so many ways that we would need a very long conversation before I would feel ready to let go. Indeed, in his essay Mike cites a comment I made in public not long ago, emitting what could be rightly called a moral judgement of an agent, a well-known and despicable public figure; I stand by it now, though I might perhaps qualify it somewhat on account of genuine doubts about the sanity of the man I then called a monster. I have, however, not changed regarding the matters at issue in my conversation with David, which Mike takes up.
So, what was the point of my claim during that conversation when I told David one should not judge an agent, only the agent’s acts, something I have also told some other friends on some other occasions?
First, I need to lay a little groundwork.
I believe that generosity is a foundational virtue or excellence. By “generosity” I understand the capacity to take the place of another human being, to see things from her point of view, to see in the other our shared humanity. Of course, this can at times be extremely difficult, with the depressing result of making us appreciate how far we humans can go down the route of pure evil. And it can be the case that to love such a person as we love ourselves, which is a foundational duty, we will need to contain and cover up that evil. This is what some admirable people do—I have in mind some nuns—who spend time visiting prisoners on death row, ask nothing from the criminals, and just make themselves available to them.
Many of the persons we properly judge and condemn are far removed from us, and our judgements are part of a social exchange structured around public policy, seeking consequential results. So, I do stand by the judgement I made public not so long ago calling a public figure a monster. But even so and then, we should be careful when judging. It could be that we are feeding and nurturing our natural blindness to others from whom we distance ourselves precisely because we are not like them, not those evil or bad or lesser persons. This is part of what destroys a healthy political life: we become deaf to what those who do not think as we do may have to say. This also is the source of monstruous evil; this is how human beings like us could hunt and enslave, could lynch, could genocidally exterminate a whole people, other humans just like them or us: they become others, not us, sometimes mere numbers or labels, always others unlike us and our brothers and sons. These worries grow significantly when we are morally judging those who are not far removed but close by, or when we make a habit of such judgements.
Of course, there are circumstances when what is called for is active and open confrontation. Nothing I have said denies or qualifies that. But I am with Ghandi here: at the end of the day, and particularly if we are triumphant, we should be truly generous and truly loving with our enemies and opponents, however much they did hurt us.
My conversation with David had to do with the cultivation of love and generosity, a conversation which I could only have with a friend, someone whom I love and with whom I share an outlook and a disposition, a way of being, a core moral structure and stance. It was deeply personal, in that sense. That is, it belongs in the context of a personal exchange, an exchange between friends engaging with each other morally. And, also crucially, it was a moment or part of a dialogue.
So, I can honestly say that I have little if anything to say in response to Mike. I do want, nonetheless, to thank him for the opportunity to recall that exchange with David. I met David more than forty years ago. During that time, we have shared so much, we have lived so much, we have gone through so much. He is a central part of my life. To me, David’s generosity is exemplary. On those few occasions when we have not seen eye to eye, I always found a lesson to take with me. I am a little sorry that there will be no more long visits to Potsdam, but very happy in the knowledge that I will see much more of him in the many years to come.