As human beings, we are attracted to isms. I think there are strong anthropological motivations going on here. In fact, the evolutionary routes of such behaviour may be the same as the rational case which might be made for isms in general. I'm not, of course, talking here about the virtues of any particular ism, any particular bundle of views, which may be sufficiently structured to qualify as an ideology or system of thought. I'm talking about what draws us to want to be part of something bigger than we are.
If we come across a body of thought which vaguely represents our position, we get that coming home feeling. If it's a position that others may attack, we are going to draw comfort from the safety of being among the like minded, and from feeling less vulnerable to being picked off as some crazy loaner. We will have our sacred texts and the thoughts of the wise originators of our chosen ism to which we can refer to bolster our opinions, and add weight to them by quoting those whose scholarship we admire; scholarship which might impress the opposition.
But here's the danger zone in my opinion. Because the ism can easily take on an institutionalised life of its own, and render us less critical of what it says than we might otherwise be. Our luminaries can easily take on almost sacred status, and we may almost imperceptibly start feeling nervous about entertaining thought which doesn't toe the party line. We would somehow be acting disloyally, betraying "the cause". How nuch accommodation are we making to this tendency in us? Are we allowing our instinctive, if rationally defensible, need for solidarity to undermine our capacity for independent thought?
I'm aware that being an anti-ismist is itself an ism in the making. I'm simply suggesting that if we choose to define ourselves as any kind of ist, we might do well to think how far that ism reflects our true views, and how far we any longer permit ourselves to have such views without reference to higher authority.
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This is particularly true of religion, where there is usually a requirement to accept "what God says" uncritically. But the paradox is, how does one come to a belief in the first place? Not by accepting it uncritically, surely, but by thinking about it critically. I don't see any reason why that should ever stop.
ReplyDeleteI find it difficult to balance my desire to have and exercise faith (and also to experience solidarity, yes) with my need to think critically. I am afraid to let go of my relatively unbiased position and go with the flow, but I can't help wanting to do that as well.
Thanks Sarah.
ReplyDeleteThere is no reason why critical thought should stop necessarily, but it all depends on why we want to belong to something. If this need is strong, there is a possibility, and I meant to put it no stronger than that, of being lulled into unquestioning acceptance.
If for example, I was someone who had badly wanted to belong to something all my life, and suddenly found warm acceptance and friendship within a particular organisation - church, political party ETC, after a while my critical thinking might kick in, and I might start to question the conventional wisdom of this particular ism. It might be, perhaps very gently, pointed out to me that the organisation was more than the sum of its parts, and loyalty demanded that I follow more scrupulously the official view. Depending on the strength of myneed to belong, at what point would I realise that my independence of thought was being compromised, to the point that I might leave the safety and solidarity of this new haven?
Now that's all fantasy of course, but it was what struck me when considering the motivation to call oneself any kind of ist. I'm not impugning anyone's motives, just raising a question which I hope I would consider if I were in that position. It is for that kind of reason that I have set my teeth against ideology and dogma. Perhaps I fear my own vulnerability. In any event, I hope this makes sense, and thanks again.
I totally agree! In fact this has happened to me, and what eventually happened was I got somewhat disillusioned with what I'd joined. I then developed a need NOT to belong to it any more, which probably also compromised my independent thought if I'm honest. There are all sorts of influences on us all the time. We usually like to think we are free-thinking and independent, but we aren't!
ReplyDeleteI think that's OK as long as we are as honest with ourselves as we can be. I sometimes wonder if all the influences on me were different, if I was born somewhere else, if I hadn't met this person or that person, joined and left these groups, would my views still have progressed in roughly the same direction? I see no reason why independent thought or free will can't override random chance, but in practice it's not always easy to make that choice. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth bothering or if I'd be happier if I just went with the flow!
"Sometimes I wonder if it's worth bothering or if I'd be
ReplyDeletehappier if I just went with the flow!"
My initial reaction would be "don't give up". We humans are great rationalisers of the efficacy of what's easy, as I know only too well. For example, we might say there is no free will, and we are but the Dramatis Personae of some vast deterministic puppet show. Great! There's no point in doing anything, what a relief!
When confronted with the temptation to sign up to opinions we don't agree with as the price of belonging, or the temptation to subscribe to a philosophical justification for inaction, based on the pointlessness of everything, we have to look beyond understanding. We can't be sure that our opinions are true, just as we can't be sure of where free will ends and determinism begins. That's the point where we have to act on the primacy of our conscience and convictions; the point where we have to believe we're capable of independent action. The alternative denies potential for growth, personal salvation, self-improvement, call it what you will.
Ultimately, the struggle towards clarity is going to be our own struggle. Those who truly love us will support us in this, but they can't do our thinking for us. Autonomy doesn't have to mean being alone. But human institutions cannot resist trying to do our thinking for us, which is why I distrust them.
Reg,
ReplyDeleteYou wrote: "When confronted with the temptation to sign up to opinions we don't agree with as the price of belonging, or the temptation to subscribe to a philosophical justification for inaction, based on the pointlessness of everything, we have to look beyond understanding."
I would say this is also generalizing to extremes. Even if we believe that ultimately the universe is pointless that does not mean we ascribe to inaction, as some assume it would mean. It only means that we pick and choose which action will have the most meaning. Sure, we can't know this in the long run, but we can judge its result. Those who see no ultimate meaning, find meaning in the immediate, which to me is far more valuable than "investing" in some future which may never come to pass. Great post as usual.
Sarah,
ReplyDeleteYou wrote: "I see no reason why independent thought or free will can't override random chance, but in practice it's not always easy to make that choice. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth bothering or if I'd be happier if I just went with the flow!"
Sometimes, all you can do is "go with the flow" because our life is not supposed to be live in constant antithesis to what feels natural and good and right to us. Some see this refusal to make choices as "inaction." Some think we are being spiritual slackers, so to speak, by refusing to "do" something. But I would ask. What is it we are to "do?" Which action is right if our own in/action is not considered right? Why must there always be "action?" I would say peace only comes when we cease to act; violently or otherwise. Everyone wants to spur us to action but no one agrees on where this is supposed to lead us or where it is supposed to "go." Everyone's "doing" and "going" will be resonate of their own lives, not someone else's.
I think much wisdom can be found in Buddhist traditions which tell us that no "action" is necessary unless it comes from our true self and we can't know our true self unless we stop listening to others and tune in to ourselves. That is something we Westerners find terribly hard to do. I don't see inaction as "giving up" but as a good place to begin meditating on our lives and on what we truly believe.
Now this is getting kind of tangential to "isms and ists", but it's that kind of blog after all.
ReplyDeleteWe all make a great many assumptions all the time of course, E.G. the air will still be breathable when I take my next breath. but assuming that others work like we do is an assumption too far, and thank you for pointing that out.
To explain, my obsession with action is prompted by my need to give myself deadlines and not give myself excuses for doing nothing, an area in which I'm expert. Others, of course, can live lives with as much action in them as they want without lecturing themselves constantly as I have to do. If I believed that the universe might be pointless, I don't think I could function.
This reinforces my earlier point that we should look to ourselves for clarity and meaning, and not to others. Much of what we rationalise as opinion is probably driven by our personaliti. I must be less prescriptive, and not externalise my internal dialogue so much. That is to make an ideology out of a mind set.
Reg,
ReplyDeleteI don't think the discussion is tangential to 'isms' or 'ists' at all. You could label yourself an Actionist or be addicted to Activism because you believe mightily in it and wish everyone did too. I could be called an Inactivist, Slackist, or whatever. So, the point is, that we all come from a viewpoint that we cherish and have investment in--precisely because it works for us and that's our experience.
The danger is, as you so rightly point out, when those in positions of authority of said 'isms' and 'ists' assume that theirs is the better view and worth ascribing to. This is why fundamentalists of all religions evangelize. They feel that their way is the only way to live a "right" life. Perhaps it is the better way, but no one can truly know that unless they are willing to ascribe to it and try it. If it works, great. If it doesn't, then we can choose to opt out as I did with much of Christianity.
As for writing our internal dialogue, we all do that! That's what blogs are for after all. I don't see any way around it. (smile)
To externalise one's internal dialogue is one thing. My mistake is often to try and "evangelise" as you say, without fully understanding the other's point of view. There's no way around the blogging impulse if we have it, but attaching merit to one's own preferred strategy, or seeing dangers in someone else's, that's avoidable, and I should avoid it.
ReplyDeleteGetting back to your original post, I think the main problem isn't that we're tempted to sign on to beliefs that we don't actually believe in - though that is a real problem, in itself. Worse yet is that the construction of "isms" too often requires an out-group.
ReplyDeleteFor example, I call myself a feminist, but what kind of human being am I if my feminism won't find space for a wide variety of people? I don't think the definition of feminism can be stretched to accommodate Rush Limbaugh (not sure who the British equivalent would be). But I'm willing to grant that Sarah Palin is a feminist, because she claims the label for herself. Now, I may disagree with her on a thousand counts, but I won't place her in the category of "totally different from me."
Also, I think we run deadly risks when we let our isms obscure our shared humanity. (Badtux the Snarky Penguin had a great post on this a couple months back.) Even Rush Limbaugh is human. I don't wish him ill. Although I do frequently with he'd just STFU.
Thanks for stopping by sungold.
ReplyDeleteAnd the need for an "out group" which you identify is part of this human need to belong isn't it. The in group has much more cohesion and purpose if the "others" can clearly be identified. Be it men, Conservatives, Liberals or homosexuals, we're dying to feel superior to someone "I thank thee Lord that I am not as other men"...
There's very little likelihood of getting anywhere in a discussion in which one or both of the participants feels essentially more righteous than the other. All that's left is the relish of verbal street fighting, and I find I no longer enjoy this as much as I used to.
You are right, any isms to which we feel drawn are best viewed from the perspective that we share more with those suspicious others than could possibly divide us.
Tangentially, I had a conversation on a train yesterday with an Israeli pharmicist. She doesn't think that conflict is resolvable because "everyone wants Jerusalem". So what next?