Before I tackle any question –
especially one as complex as this one – I like to make sure the essential words
in the question are explicitly defined. Clearly, “good” is the most ambiguous
term that depending on its interpretation, could steer the question into
entirely distinct directions – a discussion of the possibility of a pleasant life or of a moral life in a corrupt society would be
completely unlike. Ignoring the fact that the current unit is ethics, making
the latter interpretation of “good” the most likely intended, I am going to
begin interpreting a “good” life as an enjoyable and happy existence.
Last week I sat in the car with
my mother at a red light, waiting to turn left at the intersection ahead. We
talked of the great Saturday morning and pleasant dinner we were having later
that night with the rest of the family. We were almost at the turn when a
rickety yellow 1985 Yugo pulled up to our right, disregarding the dozens of
people behind us in line, and nuzzled his way into the gap in front of us. Immediately
my mother’s face began to glow red, her knuckles becoming white as she gripped
the wheel. I only laughed at how unbelievably conceited the man ahead of us
must be to do such a thing. If they had been there, I know that my father would
have had a colder condemnation in contrast to my mother’s hot anger and that my
brother would have barely noticed it.
I
think it is safe to assume that the yellow car performed a dishonest action
according to most moral values around the world. But to what extent does this example
of a “corrupt” action hinder me from living a “good” life? I’m sure my mother
forgot at that instant about the scenic weekend morning or the family gathering
that night, blinded by rage at this action of disregard. I was annoyed, of
course, but at the same time pretty indifferent and somewhat amused – I
remained happy as my mother grumbled for the remainder of the drive. But this
is such a minute example of corruption – let’s take an extreme example, murder.
A victim of an armed robbery, a friend gets killed. How does this event influence the “goodness” of
our lives? It is obvious that most would be devastated, distraught and lost –
but is it possible someone could be completely unfazed by such an event? The
same way I essentially felt about the car cutting in front of us? What about
genocide, torture, rape, slavery?
What I believe is that people
have different thresholds for their tolerance to corruption. Some of these
thresholds are universal – the vast majority of people will not tolerate
genocide. And so while the level of corruption of society is below such thresholds,
I believe that yes, it is in general possible to live a pleasant life. But as
soon as genocide and rape and slavery become the norm, which most have no
tolerance for, a pleasant life for most is very unlikely. I know this may sound
ridiculously obvious, but the example of genocide is a clear threshold – think
of blurrier situations where some have zero tolerance for and others address as
acceptable, such as manslaughter or abortion. It is in these situations people
have different thresholds of tolerance. While I sat indifferent to the car in
front of us, my mother stared with distaste. Is my mother less likely to live a
good life because she is more “corruption-sensitive?”
Having addressed the “pleasant”
interpretation of good, how is the question different interpreting good as morally good? To begin, another
definition needs to be made: what is considered moral? Or an even more complex
question: what is a moral lifestyle?
There are so many definitions, yet, I believe the “answer” to the question is wholly
dependent on the definition to these terms. Since I cannot go over every
interpretation of a moral action or life, I will refer to three. Carol Gilligan
is one of the founders of “the ethics of care.” Those who believe in the ethics
of care believe that the individual and the community are interdependent for
achieving anything – every individual must be aware of the other, paying close
attention to the consequence of their own actions and it’s impact on others. So
assuming a corrupt society, how can one successfully achieve the ethics of care
if the community you live in has no regard for you? In this example, a moral
life is largely dependent on the community in which you live in, making an ethical
existence impossible if one lives in a society with incongruent principles to
your own – it would be like an incomplete circle. However, a more independent
and “revolved around the self” definition of moral life, such as Nietzsche’s
(happy birthday), is not dependent on those around you. This therefore means
that yes, even if the vast majority of individuals are “corrupt,” you may still
seek and achieve a moral life. More interestingly however, is how the social
science of economics determines as correct behavior. It is an accepted and
believed assumption in the field that humans will always act in what they
believe is in their best self-interest, and that this is moral. In fact,
economists praise this rule as the reason as to why society works – from a free
market to efficient traffic flow – and ultimately the survival of our species.
In economics class, we watched a short video on a man who bought generators
from a local store and went to sell them in New Orleans after Katrina for twice
their price – economists see no issue in such an action, and after many classes
on the subject, I began to understand their reasoning. Regardless, let us assume
such an action was undisputedly immoral, as many of us believe, and that
self-interestedness is in fact the
driving force behind our lives – is it ethical in itself that society, based on
such “corrupt” principles, can and does function
so effectively, and that we let it do so? Economics, although based on many
assumptions, is a science that has rarely ever failed. Does this mean that the
assumption humans are self-interested is correct? Is morally blind
self-interest acceptable as long as society functions? Therefore is there no
moral or immoral at all, only self-interest?
I believe the possibility of a
moral life in a corrupt society stretches further than whether you believe in
the ethics of care or the fact everyone acts self-interestedly. Think of the
situation with the Yugo at the red light again. It is possible that my mother
felt the need to do the same to the Yugo as it had done to her, despite it
being against her moral principles. This incident was a small one, so it would
unlikely have a change in her attitude – but assuming this happened on a daily
basis with nearly every driver, it is very likely that she would soon be doing
the same. This is another question that should be addressed – the extent corruption
in others can influence the corruption of our own moral principles – possibly making
a moral life much more difficult in a corrupt society. But I will stop extending
the question here because questions such as these will keep stretching to
almost infinite lengths.
The possibilities of a pleasant
life and a moral life in a corrupt society seem to be very similar in the end –
they are both very subjective. For a pleasant
life, I believe it is to some extent dependent on your tolerance to
corruption and the level of corruption considered in the society addressed in
the question. For a moral life, it is
largely dependent on your moral principles and your ability to ward off the influence
of corruption from others in your own life. But to shatter my one thousand two
hundred argument above, I would like to acknowledge that I make the assumption
that there is a separation of corrupt and moral at all – we often think there
are clear lines parting the two, but that in reality can often become blurry
due to our differences and perspectives in certain situations. For example, while
my mother glared red-faced at the yellow car ahead of us, the man at the driver’s
seat could have been helplessly wondering whether he could get to the hospital
on time.
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