The Ethics of Writing: Authorship and Legacy in Plato and Nietzsche
by
by
Who Is To Blame?
Nice try. But aside from some trivial conclusions about the sins of intentional lying and bad grammar, there’s not much to say about the ethics of writing. We begin and end any critique of writing with the impenetrable mystery of language itself, the vagaries of which are not under anyone’s control.
Famously and somewhat paradoxically, Plato wanted literary figures banned from his ideal state. Not only were they disruptive to established order, their writings also would have incalculable effects in future generations, thus encouraging permanent social and political instability.
Plato was, of course, justified in his concern if not in his suggestion: language is the source of all human power; and those who have power are always threatened by their lack of control over language. So as writers write they undermine society, its institutions, its mores, and its peace. Anyone longing for a quiet life has to sympathise with the great philosopher.
Whether the effects of a writing are beneficial or destructive is something that society at large has to deal with, not the writer. He or she will have been quickly obscured by interpretations and commentaries which are impossible to correct. Indeed the writer may be dead so that neither blame nor praise has any import whatsoever except to cause more interpretations and therefore more complex instabilities.
So does it make sense to associate Nietzsche with the Holocaust, Marx with the Gulag, religious fundamentalism with St. Paul, or the American Republican Party with Ayn Rand? Or for that matter the destruction of traditional moral values with Jane Austen, Harriet Beecher Stowe, D. H. Lawrence, and James Baldwin?
All writing, it seems, is subject to what Hegel called the risk of reason, that is, the chance that an idea will run amok, endangering the social matrix that is its source. But even Hegel could not conceive of the lethal dangers of writing on the internet in which the risk of reason has risen to crisis levels. Lying, deception, and the passing on of questionable information has become routinely acceptable for political and religious reasons, or even just for fun. Perhaps Charles Babbage, Tom Watson, and Alan Turing ought to be brought to book for what they have helped to create.
The problem is that the problem isn’t mendacity, or bad intentions, or misinterpretation. The problem is language. Our use of language may be the consequence of various evolutionary, neurological, and sociological events. But these events have created what is a unique way of being, what some German philosopher might call Being-in-Language.
Being-in-Language is a metaphysical state in which we all share. This shared state has allowed our species to become the dominant life-form on the planet. But our success comes at a considerable price. Being-in-Language means that we are effectively trapped in a bubble from which we are continuously trying to escape. We are plagued by issues of truth and authenticity and the connection between language and what is not language.
We attempt to cope with the uncertainties created by our metaphysical condition through religion and philosophy and various other intellectual strategies, like, for example,... well, ethics, sometimes even the ethics of writing. But writing about the ethics of writing plunges into the depths of self-referential paradox without hope of surfacing. Being-in-Language means that any analysis of our condition begins in whatever premises we choose and ends in the implications of those premises.
There is no ultimate authority about what constitutes better or worse premises. If, like Plato, one prefers social stability, writing must be severely suppressed. Or if one is concerned about the global rumour mill of the internet, Donald Trump’s tweets should be curated. On the other hand, if one’s priority is innovation and discovery, the useful (perhaps not the truthful) will triumph. Freedom of expression may be messy but the wheat can’t be separated from the chaff before expressions are expressed. Reason doesn’t get us to either Plato or Nietzsche. Our self-interests might. But even those will be be clouded by intellectual gossip and plain ignorance.
So the ethics of writing makes about as much sense as the ethics of language. ‘Garbage in, garbage out’ as the computer programming cliché goes. Sean Burke acknowledges this obliquely when he writes,“Do not all interpretations belong to God?’, it is asked, rhetorically, in Genesis (40: 8).” Indeed, language transcends us all. Like the Christian God, language is within us, among us, and most definitely beyond us. Perhaps that is the real motivator for religion: we desperately want someone to blame for our metaphysical condition, our Being-in-Language.
Postscript: I can’t resist appending James Taylor’s take on the issue of linguistic responsibility:
Let It All Fall Down
By James Taylor
Sing a song for
The wrong and the wicked
And the strong and the sick,
As thick as thieves.
For the faceless fear
That was never so near,
Too clear to misbelieve.
Well the sea is jumping salty
And the porpoise has the blues,
My recollection's faulty
And I cannot find my shoes.
And my wiring is misfiring
Due to cigarettes and booze,
I'm behind in my dues,
I just now got the news.
He seems to tell us lies
And still we will believe him,
Then together he will lead us
Into darkness, my friends.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
The man says stand to one side, son,
We got to keep this big ball rolling.
It's just a question of controlling
For whom the bell is tolling.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
There'll be suffering and starvation
In the streets, young man.
Just where have you been, old man?
Just look out of your window, man.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Well, it ain't nobody's fault
But our own,
Still, at least we might could
Show the good sense
To know when we've been wrong,
And it's already taken too long.
So we bring it to a stop
Then we take it from the top,
We let it settle on down softly
Like your gently falling snow
Or let it tumble down and topple
Like the temple long ago.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Nice try. But aside from some trivial conclusions about the sins of intentional lying and bad grammar, there’s not much to say about the ethics of writing. We begin and end any critique of writing with the impenetrable mystery of language itself, the vagaries of which are not under anyone’s control.
Famously and somewhat paradoxically, Plato wanted literary figures banned from his ideal state. Not only were they disruptive to established order, their writings also would have incalculable effects in future generations, thus encouraging permanent social and political instability.
Plato was, of course, justified in his concern if not in his suggestion: language is the source of all human power; and those who have power are always threatened by their lack of control over language. So as writers write they undermine society, its institutions, its mores, and its peace. Anyone longing for a quiet life has to sympathise with the great philosopher.
Whether the effects of a writing are beneficial or destructive is something that society at large has to deal with, not the writer. He or she will have been quickly obscured by interpretations and commentaries which are impossible to correct. Indeed the writer may be dead so that neither blame nor praise has any import whatsoever except to cause more interpretations and therefore more complex instabilities.
So does it make sense to associate Nietzsche with the Holocaust, Marx with the Gulag, religious fundamentalism with St. Paul, or the American Republican Party with Ayn Rand? Or for that matter the destruction of traditional moral values with Jane Austen, Harriet Beecher Stowe, D. H. Lawrence, and James Baldwin?
All writing, it seems, is subject to what Hegel called the risk of reason, that is, the chance that an idea will run amok, endangering the social matrix that is its source. But even Hegel could not conceive of the lethal dangers of writing on the internet in which the risk of reason has risen to crisis levels. Lying, deception, and the passing on of questionable information has become routinely acceptable for political and religious reasons, or even just for fun. Perhaps Charles Babbage, Tom Watson, and Alan Turing ought to be brought to book for what they have helped to create.
The problem is that the problem isn’t mendacity, or bad intentions, or misinterpretation. The problem is language. Our use of language may be the consequence of various evolutionary, neurological, and sociological events. But these events have created what is a unique way of being, what some German philosopher might call Being-in-Language.
Being-in-Language is a metaphysical state in which we all share. This shared state has allowed our species to become the dominant life-form on the planet. But our success comes at a considerable price. Being-in-Language means that we are effectively trapped in a bubble from which we are continuously trying to escape. We are plagued by issues of truth and authenticity and the connection between language and what is not language.
We attempt to cope with the uncertainties created by our metaphysical condition through religion and philosophy and various other intellectual strategies, like, for example,... well, ethics, sometimes even the ethics of writing. But writing about the ethics of writing plunges into the depths of self-referential paradox without hope of surfacing. Being-in-Language means that any analysis of our condition begins in whatever premises we choose and ends in the implications of those premises.
There is no ultimate authority about what constitutes better or worse premises. If, like Plato, one prefers social stability, writing must be severely suppressed. Or if one is concerned about the global rumour mill of the internet, Donald Trump’s tweets should be curated. On the other hand, if one’s priority is innovation and discovery, the useful (perhaps not the truthful) will triumph. Freedom of expression may be messy but the wheat can’t be separated from the chaff before expressions are expressed. Reason doesn’t get us to either Plato or Nietzsche. Our self-interests might. But even those will be be clouded by intellectual gossip and plain ignorance.
So the ethics of writing makes about as much sense as the ethics of language. ‘Garbage in, garbage out’ as the computer programming cliché goes. Sean Burke acknowledges this obliquely when he writes,“Do not all interpretations belong to God?’, it is asked, rhetorically, in Genesis (40: 8).” Indeed, language transcends us all. Like the Christian God, language is within us, among us, and most definitely beyond us. Perhaps that is the real motivator for religion: we desperately want someone to blame for our metaphysical condition, our Being-in-Language.
Postscript: I can’t resist appending James Taylor’s take on the issue of linguistic responsibility:
Let It All Fall Down
By James Taylor
Sing a song for
The wrong and the wicked
And the strong and the sick,
As thick as thieves.
For the faceless fear
That was never so near,
Too clear to misbelieve.
Well the sea is jumping salty
And the porpoise has the blues,
My recollection's faulty
And I cannot find my shoes.
And my wiring is misfiring
Due to cigarettes and booze,
I'm behind in my dues,
I just now got the news.
He seems to tell us lies
And still we will believe him,
Then together he will lead us
Into darkness, my friends.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
The man says stand to one side, son,
We got to keep this big ball rolling.
It's just a question of controlling
For whom the bell is tolling.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
There'll be suffering and starvation
In the streets, young man.
Just where have you been, old man?
Just look out of your window, man.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Well, it ain't nobody's fault
But our own,
Still, at least we might could
Show the good sense
To know when we've been wrong,
And it's already taken too long.
So we bring it to a stop
Then we take it from the top,
We let it settle on down softly
Like your gently falling snow
Or let it tumble down and topple
Like the temple long ago.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
Let it fall down, let it fall down, let it all fall down.
posted by The Mind of BlackOxford @ November 14, 2020
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