Wednesday 24 September 2014

Aristotle, Catharsis, and Victim Blaming

I started auditing an undergraduate course in Aesthetics (I heard the lecturer was really good and I have not been disappointed). So far I've been learning all kinds of things about Greek Tragedy that I never knew. For example I didn't know that the Greek Tragedies were a kind of religious ceremony, and to not attend one would be considered a very scandalous act. apparently, Socrates never attended the tragedies, and this aroused a lot of suspicion from people.

Why did Socrates not attend the tragedies? He believed they were blasphemous because they showed the Gods doing terrible things to good people for no particular reason. For Socrates, no good, rational God would randomly dish out evils to innocent people, so he refused to attend. Plato agreed with Socrates and his Aesthetic theory reflects that, but Aristotle chose to rationalize tragedies rather than reject them.

Aristotle decided to rationalize the tragedies by saying that even though on the surface it seems like the gods were randomly punishing innocent people, these people in fact had fatal flaws that lead to their demise. So the tragedies only appear irrational but really there was a reason.

What I found interesting about this was that it gave me an idea of how victim-blaming might be motivated in other contexts. Oftentimes in discussions of rape, third parties will seek out 'fatal flaws' that might justify or explain what happened. Perhaps the victim was dressed provocatively or was flirting or drinking and third parties will point to this as evidence that justifies, legitimates, or explains the violence that took place. I used to not understand why this behavior is wrong, and that in cases of sexual assault it is always the perpetrator's fault, regardless of the context, because he or she is the one who makes a choice to act in this way.

I think that perhaps the reason why we victim-blame is the same reason as Aristotle. We refuse to accept that the existence of evil and irrationality in our society, so instead we try to rationalize the evil and irrational things that happen in any way possible. We want to believe that we are safe, that bad things only happen to bad people, and that we can be protected from the random wrath of gods, but that security comes at the cost of not acknowledging a problem that exists, and therefore not doing anything about it.

Thursday 4 September 2014

Addiction, Madness and Dichotomy

Right now, I'm reading Val Plumwood´s Feminism and the Mastery of Nature. Its reminded me a lot of the problems of dualist if thinking, i.e. of dividing things Into two radically different categories that can't be penetrated. Foucault made me realize we have a tendency to do this with mental health: in North American society you are either mad or not, there is no middle ground, and this is what allows for such radically different treatment of people. In actual experience we find these dualisms are not as clear cut as we like to think. Recently I found myself on the uncomfortable cusp of one such dualism.

Like many university students, I really enjoy going out for a drink and I tend to overdo it. Since I'm getting older, however, the bad decisions don't seem as funny, and the hangovers are getting more severe. Moreover, there's a feeling of guilt that comes with the morning after. I don't know if that's a development of maturity or an increase in normative pressure to not be such a lush, or if the two are inseparable. Either way, I've decided I want to reign in my little habit.

I'm not aiming to completely quit, and I don't see myself as an alcoholic. I'm just getting extra help to learn how to make sure my night doesn't get out of hand, how to slow down when I want to. But the amount of social stigma I've come across has been amazing.

When I drank a lot and loved to party, people were comfortable and happy with all of this, but now, they try to put me into one of two categories. They either say 'you don't have a problem and you don't need to change or get help' or 'you have an addiction and the only way to solve this is to stop completely and submit yourself to other people's control'. People either become oddly defensive or controlling. There's no middle ground where I can learn skills for drinking responsibly and still make decisions over my life. 

Thankfully, the counsellors I am getting support from do understand that this dualist way of thinking doesn't line up with my experience, but I feel this need to categorize people and divide them with impermeable boundaries is dangerous and stops people from getting help, not just for addiction counselling, but also mental health and financial aid. This is a problem where I think philosophy can make a real difference and improve people's lives. I have already seen discussions of dualism change the structure of institutions, and I look forward to seeing it change the way individual laypeople approach problems like addiction, mental health and poverty.