It Starts With Me
My philosophy starts with me1; who I am and who owns me. Let me be clear. I own me. This is a rather simple concept, and one that forms the foundation of how I relate to the rest of the universe. It means that no other entity in the universe has any right over any aspect of what or who I am. This includes family, employers, the state and God. Yes, even God. I can choose to accept or reject God, or even the notion of a god. I can subscribe to, or reject, any religious or legal tradition. It is my choice. I didn't choose to be born, but now that I am here, I own the whole and exclusive rights to my existence.
But what is this thing that I own? This thing called "me". That's a tough and very abstract question. It consists of my soul; that spark of life that animates my existence. It consists of my body; the physical entity wrapped around that spark of life. It consists of my DNA; the unique code wrapped up in a twisted bundle of proteins that defines what I am. It consists of my mind and the collective influence of everything I have learned and experienced.
With ownership comes responsibility. I am responsible for everything that I am and everything that I do. I cannot blame anyone else for my actions, conscious or unconscious, forced or coerced. Likewise, I have a right to take full credit for and enjoy the benefits of my actions.
How I choose to relate to the world and how I manage my existence starts with this very simple premise; that I own me and have absolute rights to everything about me. This ownership is a sticky thing; it is not transferable. I might sell my soul or DNA to the devil, but it's a bogus sale. I can never sever these things, or the responsibility for what I am or do.
But enough about me; how about you?
You are just like me. You own you. I can relate to you. I can enter into a contract with you. I can dominate and oppress you. But I can never own you. We can cooperate and collaborate. But you enjoy total and absolute autonomy from me. You can choose to agree or disagree with me. You can, and must, make your own choices. You must accept the consequences of your actions.
I can never know you completely. Like me, you are complex. There is too much to know. I can only know what I observe and what you choose to share with me. Even with this incomplete knowledge, I interpret what I know of you through my own lens; a lens which filters and distorts.
If I'm smart, I will respect you and your autonomy. I might try to influence you, coerce you, or force you to do things my way. I might even succeed. But you will own your own actions and your reactions to my actions. There may be times when you will have to disagree with me, and perhaps fight me. This is your call, and your choice.
And what about him?
He is a free agent too. He is responsible for himself. We know him by what we observe and by what he reveals to us. We can each see him differently. Or perhaps we don't see him at all, viewing him only through the lens of our prejudice. You and I can get together to decide how we will relate to him and how we will respond to his actions. We might gang up on him. We can let him into our circle and set rules for how he should behave.
I sometimes define my relationship to you with respect to him. Are you with me, or are you with him? I might force you to choose. You can do likewise.
Us and them
As you and I get together, and others join in, we become us; a collective, a community. We are joined by some common element: family, race, nation, or interest, anything that draws us into the same circle. And of course everybody else is them, another community or collective who are different from us. We'll often go out of our way to see the differences, even to the extent of inventing differences. They have to be different, don't they? Otherwise they'd be us, and in many cases we wouldn't want that.
Sometimes, when we're acting as us, we don't see things so clearly. We get caught up in actions of the moment. We rely on the collective (often with the benefit of a leader, but that's another story) to give us our perspective. We accept the view of the community as truth, and we respond accordingly.
But this is wrong. In the final analysis I am wholly responsible for my actions. I cannot blame the community for my views or actions towards you or them. I have a responsibility to critically view everything that my community does, and decide for myself whether it is right or wrong. I am obliged to influence the views of my community where I think it has gone off the rails.
Are there times when I'm not myself?
Can I be excused for not being myself? Are there circumstances where I can say that it isn't me? If I am drunk or distraught can I say that I am not responsible for some action? If I am mentally or physically disabled, am I any less me?
The simple answer is no.
If a drunken Brendan Seaton drives a car and kills an innocent pedestrian, it is still Brendan Seaton who committed a crime. If an elderly Brendan Seaton with Alzheimer's disease wanders off and gets lost, it's still Brendan Seaton who is lost. I may not be complete, or in control, but I am still me.
How you choose to deal with me in these situations is a different matter. You may believe that extenuating circumstances leave room for forgiveness of some actions. Some circumstances may cause you to moderate your reactions to my state. You may choose to be charitable towards me. You may punish me.
The same applies for you and him.
Why would you want to be forgiving or charitable towards me (or him for that matter)? It's part of a pact, a reciprocal arrangement. You may want me (or him, or us) to be forgiving or charitable towards you if you found yourself in similar circumstances.
So let's start here.
You and I are autonomous people with an imperfect knowledge and understanding of one another. Life and circumstance bring us together. We can choose to love one another, collaborate or fight, but we must respect one another. We must acknowledge true ownership of the "me" in each of us.
1 Some philosophers and psychologists get hung up on the distinction between "me" and "I". I don't.
About the Photograph: Bird on a rock.