When you love someone, what is it that you love?
Let me tell you why I ask.
I think that often when we relate to other people, we objectify them. This is most noticeable on virtual social networks such as Facebook. A Facebook friend means something different to a friend in the real world. A friend on Facebook means something like a member of my virtual community. And much like those that follow you on Twitter, a Facebook friend is a commodity rather than a friend.
Naturally, the lines do cross, and you may have some real friends on Facebook and even meet some new ones.
But for the most part, a Facebook friend is simply a member of your community and has a commodity value.
Having lots of Facebook friends adds status and extends the reach of your communications, in much the same way, for instance, that a radio station or newspaper is valued according to their audience size. Now, I realise this is not news to anyone who has participated in any online community for any length of time, I use this example to illustrate the commoditisation of people in our lives in general.
Although it is more blatant on the web than in the real world, I think the same kind of commoditisation occurs. Actually, I raised this point about objectifying the other in a conference (on the effects of the technology on society) I attended in London about two years ago, and the response was one of incredulity at my naiveté. In fact, a respondent said as much, “But don’t you think we do that all the time anyway?” i.e., objectify other people.
So I must start this post by conceding that this objectification of the other, whilst being something that I am only really thinking about now, is quite possibly old hat to you. Nevertheless, I proceed with my thoughts, if somewhat tentatively.
What is it Exactly that I Love About You?
Well, generally speaking, possibly not always, but often enough to make it true, when I say I love you, what I mean is that I recognise value in you. Your presence in my life enriches me. Now, one may say that if I recognise your innate humanity and subjectivity, it is precisely this that would enrich me. Yes, that may well be so, but that is not what I mean, and I would wager that I am far from unique in this regard.
What I mean is rather something along these lines:
As a friend or student, you are part of my fan base. The more fans I have, the more popular I am; being popular makes me a ‘big man’, someone respected and of value.
In evaluating you as a friend, I consider what your value proposition is:
- Are you intelligent?
- Wealthy?
- Good looking?
- Influential- can you further my cause in any way?
- Are you entertaining? Although this is a little further down the scale.
- Just how much do you care for me? This is very important because I am deeply interested in what you are willing to do for me.
Anyway, you get the idea. I consider your value proposition. I objectify you, and, inasmuch as I do this, I commoditise you. Now, from this, you may justly form the idea that I am not the nicest person and have a mercenary attitude towards other people. I think that is a fair and accurate assessment.
Nevertheless, you may be inclined to mitigate your judgment by virtue of the fact that I am a man of my time. Whilst there is lots of fuzzy, huggy and woolly talk about empathy and caring for others, the truth is that the value of the individual is in decline globally. So, although I may be a little worse than most and not as bad as some, I’m probably pretty much middle of the road (I don’t know, of course, but it seems that way to me).
You might be inclined to forgive me to the extent that I am a family man, and you would imagine that this objectification of the other does not extend to my immediate family.
Well, you might think that, but I am actually not so sure. Sure, I love my wife and children, but honestly who wouldn’t? At the risk of arrogance, I would have to say they are an exceptional group of people, intelligent, original and easy on the eye. But you see that right there is the issue – do I love them because of their gifts, or because they are my family, or is there something beyond that?
Inasmuch as I love them because they are gifted or because they are related to me, I would have to conclude that I have commoditised them as well. Their presence improves the quality of my life in many varied ways. And this makes them easy to love.
The question I have to ask is this. Am I, beyond their value proposition, able to recognise the intrinsic value of their subjectivity? That is to say: am I able to recognise and value that, like me, they too have an inner life, a soul and are people, not simply commodities?
Hello, How Do You Do?
Last Wednesday evening, in an Anthroposophical study group I participate in, the discussion turned to the convention of the following South African greeting, “Hello, how are you?” And the standard response is, “I am fine thanks, and you?”
Now the question is, is this a sincere enquiry? And naturally, one must conclude that no it is not, it is simply a greeting convention. Jane (Abrahams), who facilitates the group, made the point that in England, the proper greeting is actually: Hello, how do you do? And this is meant strictly as a rhetorical question.
In both cases, one may assume that this form of greeting began with the intention of a sincere enquiry. Not being an anthropologist, I can only hazard a guess, but I am inclined to think not. I would say it is, and was, simply meant as a polite greeting, and in no way should it be taken as a genuine question.
Slavoj Žižek suggests these conventions are designed for the very reason of keeping the (obscene) other at a safe distance. And inasmuch as one witnesses their use, I think his analysis is correct. Not only is it not a genuine enquiry, but beyond that, it is an implicit communication that I do not wish to know how you are. Now, perversely in my case, when I ask how you are, it is with genuine interest in the answer. And I have noticed over the years how frequently this surprises the person I am asking it of; in my defence, I attribute this social clumsiness to an improvised education.
The point here is that the other is held (or meant to be held) at arm’s length. It is, in fact, impolite to make a genuine personal enquiry. This reflects the idea that society encourages us to see and relate to the other as an actor in society. To understand and engage with the other as a role player, and inasmuch as we heed this implicit social instruction, we necessarily objectify the one we are relating to.
The Unfortunate Case of the Beggar
I don’t know about you, but for my part, I have to say I hate do-gooders. I don’t want to bore you with my long list of prejudices against them, so I’ll limit myself to only the most salient issues. For one, in my own case, I barely have enough energy to do good to myself, never mind anyone else. My father (may he rest in peace) was always fond of saying charity begins at home, and I have pretty much taken that to heart. Oh, and beyond that, I find the do-gooders generally vacuous, insincere and irritating. Still, no doubt these are my own prejudices and the world would be a poorer place but for these aspiring Florence Nightingales.
Anja, who for the most part is as intolerant as I am, happened to befriend a group of do-gooders, through no fault of her own, but simply out of desperation for some contact with the extended community (honestly, one would think my company would be more than enough, but there you have it :-)).
Anyway, in a discussion about how one should behave towards beggars, the suggestion was made that ‘one should at the very least make eye contact, and thereby acknowledge them and their existence.’ This, instead of the usual trick we use of manoeuvring the car back and forward, checking cellphone messages, adjusting the radio, etc., all in order naturally not to see and acknowledge their presence and their plight.
Now, on the face of it, this sounds very humane, does it not? In a sense, an act in service of acknowledging the beggar's humanity is the very thing this post is about. However, I am less than convinced and I must concede that I am influenced by Žižek in this regard.
Does my act of looking at you begging at the side of the road, making eye contact and then still ignoring your plea for alms somehow mitigate the insult (if this is what it is) against your humanity? Does my having the courage to look you in the eye and then drive on, without in any way substantively aiding you, rather than my usual overt display of guilt in so obviously ignoring you, in some sense raise your value in the estimation of my gaze?
Well, personally, I think not.
Existence vs. Essence
Possibly, this is the fundamental question. Can we decide that, at the very least, in the case of human beings, as opposed to plants and dogs, for instance, their very existence has an intrinsic value? And going further, may it also possibly be true to think that the value of their existence, and by extension their subjectivity, in and of itself, eclipses their value as objectified role players in our lives?
Or alternatively, must we decide in favour of essentialism and identify people with their objective characteristics: gender, age, race, professional and social status, etc.
Is it a genuinely meaningful proposition to consider the human spirit in each individual we encounter as transcending their personalities in the broadest sense of the word, or not?
To be completely honest with you, even though it runs contrary to my intention in this post, I am struck by the naiveté of my own question. For if we genuinely remove all objective and objectifying characteristics from the subject, what could possibly remain?
Is there something genuinely transcendent left behind worth caring about?
Well, I’ll leave it to you to decide.
A Final Thought
Consider your own relationships with those you care for.
- What is it that you really care about in others?
- Do you objectify those you relate to?
- Do you have a value scale that you move people in your life up or down? And if so, what is this based on?
- Perhaps most significantly, is there anyone in your life you do not objectify, for whom you could describe your love in a genuinely transcendent sense? And if so, how does this differ from your other relationships?
Until we speak again.
God bless you,
Stephen