What does “Virtue is its own reward” mean? And, what does “virtue” mean? When I searched the web, I came across this video of Barry Schwartz speaking at a TED conference about virtue. In his case, he defines virtue as a moral and social concept. I believe this is the most common way that the word “virtue” is used. Despite my respect for his ideas on the paradox of choice, I disagree with his thesis on this topic. I think he got the order wrong. When you practice virtue as its own reward, what appears to be moral is actually not moral at all. It only appears so to other people who are observing your act.
I define “virtue” as disinterested beauty whose reward is itself. So, it does not need to have any external purpose, reason, or justification. If morality is what is motivating you to perform something, it is not virtue in my definition, because morality is a social construct, which means you would not practice it in non-social / non-moral situations (such as keeping your own house clean for its own virtue).
Interestingly enough, at the opening of his speech, Barry Schwartz lists typical tasks that janitors are responsible for, such as sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, etc.. I thought he was going to explain the virtues of them, but to my disappointment, he essentially used the list as matters that are unrelated to the concept of “virtue”.
I believe he has it backwards. Being able to find virtue in these mundane non-social tasks is the key to being able to perform any tasks virtuously, whether the task is social or not is irrelevant. For virtue to be its own reward, we have to be able to find the drive or the motivation within the task itself.
Being able to find virtue in mundane things like mopping the floor is not easy, but it can be done. Every time I peel an apple, I try to do it better than I did last time. I also try to be creative in my approach, not just simply repeat the same process every time. I also try to cut them into pieces that are perfectly geometric and identical; as if they were processed by a machine, which involves sharpening the knife perfectly too. Nobody notices my efforts, mainly because I usually eat them all myself. My effort to perfect or improve my apple peeling skill does not help, save, or inspire anyone, yet strangely, I get a feeling of satisfaction from this act.
I also find a strange sense of joy in washing dishes too. When I was a teenager, working for a sushi restaurant in Japan, my favorite thing was to wash dishes during the lunch rush hours. Even to this day, I enjoy it, constantly optimizing my movements. I also enjoy the feeling of water on my hands.
I believe there is some inherent (maybe even evolutionary or biochemical) reason we find joy in doing anything well. When you can enjoy mundane tasks for their own virtue, you can naturally extend your ability to social tasks also. In fact, there is no line between the two. When virtue is its own reward (in my sense of the term), any task at hand is disinterested, that is, it is not about you or anyone else. It’s like being able to admire a nude model without getting sexually aroused. You can do so only if you are able to efface self and others from the experience. When you are dealing with a social task, improving the society becomes the virtue of the task. You are not doing it for you or for the people of the society. You do them for their own virtue. In this scenario, there is no morality at all, but other people often project morality onto your act.
In fact, not all tasks performed for their own virtue are socially or morally beneficial or positive. Dynamite was originally invented with the intention of improving the safety of mining and construction workers, but it became a popular weapon in wars and has killed millions of people. (Einstein’s contribution to the development of atomic bomb is another example.) What I consider socially beneficial or morally correct, may not be so to others. Once we start debating “morality” in depth, we eventually come to a conclusion that nothing can be determined as right or wrong, and everything we do begins to look futile and pointless. For any arguments built on morality to work, they must rely on a certain degree of ignorance about what morality is. They wouldn’t hold water for anyone who are willing to question the premise of morality deeper. I find this type of arguments manipulative, and so try to avoid them. Any arguments based on “common sense” have the same problem.
Many people are willing to accept fantasy as logical truth in situations where emotional investment is significant. I think this TED conference was one such situation, because we are in the midst of trying to fix our economy which was devastated by the irresponsible Wall Street bankers. Morally-based arguments are useful in galvanizing people, but in the long run, I believe that they lose steam, and the reality will push the believers to other emotionally powerful arguments. In the world of “spirituality”, people often keep jumping from one guru to the next precisely for this reason.
This leads back to the significance of virtue as its own reward. Once you can do everything for its own virtue, you wouldn’t need to listen to any motivational speakers because the motivation lies within the task itself.
Even after 10 years, the word “father” still feels foreign to me. It makes me want to go, who? Me?
I think fatherhood, or parenthood, is something that should fade gradually overtime as the child claims her own independence. In that process, the parent too regain his own self.
When the parent refuses to do so, the child too is prevented from becoming her own self; their identities forever enmeshed.
Being ourselves is hard. I think it gets harder as we get older, and we find comfort in the idea of identity that is imposed on us from outside. Who we are no longer needs to come from within. We transform our own failures into hopes of success in our children. The pain of existential questions is passed on like a baton.
But alas such a maneuver wouldn’t last forever. Sooner or later, when your child is mature enough, she will remind you that it’s your own baton, and give it right back to you.
Since our identity politics is currently in a state of chaos, I feel it’s a good time for me to come out of the closet also. I am a trans-computational.
Ever since I was born, I felt like a computer trapped in a human body, although I didn’t know what computer was then. I looked very much like a human being, but I could never relate to other humans. As a small child, I suspected that the way humans output the results of their computation was fundamentally different from mine. They seemed to plug a chain of effects like electric guitarists do: distortion, echo, chorus, equalizer, suppressor, looper, delay, and such. After going through all those effects, their output was incomprehensible to me. And when I outputted my raw results, everyone freaked out.
One day, my dad brought home a “personal computer” that he borrowed from his office over the holiday season. When he turned it on, I immediately understood who I really was (and who my dad was also). We typed a command and the raw answer came back immediately without any effects. I looked at my dad in shock, as if to ask, “Dad, is this what I think it is?” And his glowing eyes silently said, “That’s right Dyske. But don’t tell anyone. It’s our secret.”
But now I’m ready to come out and stand up for who I am. I’m a trans-computational and I’m proud of it.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” This seemingly innocent question, I think, has many harmful effects for kids.
It assumes that the careers/occupations that they want to pursue already exist (otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to answer the question). If they already exist, chances are, they are already highly competitive (like lawyers, bankers, chefs, designers, writers, musicians, etc..), which also means the humanity already has enough of them.
The younger we are, the more we are concerned about “proving” ourselves by competing (as competition is the easiest way to do so), so this question sucks kids into meaningless competitions instead of imagining the paths that nobody has travelled.
The question puts the focus solely on “you”, as if life is all about what “you” want. To live a full life, you have to also consider what others want. The other part that’s missing is, “What does the world need that I can offer?”
You are standing in front of an elephant, and I’m standing behind it. Your experience of the elephant is different from mine, so we try to bridge the gap by describing our experiences in words. We are all constantly trying to bridge these gaps in our lives. When the gap is too large to bridge with words, we feel frustrated and lonely, like nobody in the world can understand what we are going through. We reluctantly accept the reality that some of our experiences will be inexplicable, and that we will have to manage them on our own. From time to time, we say, “Nobody understands me,” and feel sorry for ourselves. I think this is a common sentiment but it has a big assumption: Differences in our experiences lead us to loneliness. We assume that if others could be in our shoes, they would think and feel the same way. But is that true?
Suppose we could be omnipresent. I can experience what you are experiencing from the front of the elephant at the same time I’m experiencing it from behind. And, let’s imagine that we were born this way, so I’ve experienced everything you’ve experienced in your life, and vice versa. Even if our experiences were exactly the same, we would still think differently because our brains are structured differently. It’s like going to a movie theater together; although our experiences would be very similar, our thoughts could be very different. This difference in our thoughts would still motivate us to bridge the gap even if the experience is the same. The differences in experience in and of themselves do not cause feelings of loneliness.
We are actually creating the gaps by thinking about our experiences. That is, as soon as we try to describe our experiences in words, we create the gaps. Our assumption is wrong. Language is not a tool to bridge our gaps. Language creates the gaps. The more we use language to close our gaps under the false assumption, the greater the gaps will be. It’s like drinking from the ocean to quench our thirst; we think language is the solution when in fact it is the cause of the gaps.
I never talk about what I’m grateful for in life. If someone puts me on the spot to answer, within myself, I sense resistance to putting it into words. It’s like how some cultures believed photography can steal their souls. Language, or any system of representation like photography, is a tool to represent what is not there. Words or photos therefore have the effect of reminding us of what is lacking in them. Even in situations where the thing or the person we described in words or in photographs still happens to be there, they remind us of the possibility of disappearance, lack, or loss. This is partly why we take pictures of our joyous moments. As we experience the joy, we are already worrying about the end or the loss of that joy, and this worry can prevent us from fully enjoying that moment. In this sense, language or photography, if used in a certain way, can steal your soul.
Midlife is interesting in that, even if you don’t have any kids, you become a parent in one form or another. Say, for instance, you are a graphic designer and intend to stay in that business for the rest of your life. But by midlife your main expertise would probably be in managing designers and clients, not actually designing anything yourself. The nature of your job would be fundamentally different, like switching to an entirely different career. Just as you wouldn’t compete with your own kids, you wouldn’t compete with others with your skills. You switch your position to being a parent or a teacher, and help the younger people acquire those skills. It’s like you have transcended your former self, and are now working with others who remind you of your younger self. This new perspective of yourself brings about new possibilities.
People want to be lumped in with the group they belong to when it comes to positive deeds and qualities of their members. But they want others to see them as individuals when it comes to negative deeds and qualities. And, when they think about their opponents, they reverse these processes.
When you form an ideological group, the impact is greater than the sum of its parts. So, it is tempting to form a group, but if a significantly negative event were to be associated with the group, even the innocent members are negatively impacted by it.
In other words, under positive circumstances, you as an individual can gain more from forming a group than acting independently. But under negative circumstances, you as an individual can lose more from forming a group than acting independently. That is, the net gain of forming an ideological group is zero.
“Be yourself” implies that you should know who you are. When you are young, you don’t know who you are yet. So, you need to try acting like other people, like trying on a bunch of different jeans. Eventually, you will settle into one that feels right for you. I’m not sure if “be yourself” is a good piece of advice to young people. It’s an ideal incorrectly presented as a solution.
Someone who is tall, big, and strong is great when he is standing in front of you protecting you from enemies. But not so great if he turns around to confront you. You can’t conveniently love just one side of someone.
Before you walk into a gallery, close your eyes for a minute and imagine that your net worth is about 25 million dollars, and have about 500k in liquid assets, and you make, say, a million dollars a year. Imagine a large apartment with a bunch of walls. They look cold and empty. Your rich friends are coming over for a Christmas party in a few weeks. You have a few hundred grand in cash that is earning virtually zero interest. What a waste; you need to do something with that money...
Open your eyes. Now you can see everything from the point of view of your audience. Now go back to your studio and start making some art.
(Not necessary if you are a musician, writer, or filmmaker.)