All for a Simple Overcoat

Sophia’s father stood rigidly in the living room, holding her graded exam paper as if it were an alien artifact. The bold red “C” at the top corner seemed to pulsate, casting a crimson glow on his traditional Greek features.

“What is this?” he demanded, his voice slicing through the silence like a misplaced bookmark.

Sophia glanced up from the couch, where she was reading an upside-down magazine about gardens that grow underground. “It’s my literature exam,” she replied calmly.

“A ‘C’?” His eyebrows knit together to form a perfect Möbius strip of disapproval. “In our family, we do not settle for such… mediocrity.”

Her mother nodded absently from the kitchen, where she was stirring a pot of nothing with a wooden spoon. “Yes, dear, we expect better,” she murmured, though her eyes were fixed on the wallpaper that was slowly peeling itself off in patterns that resembled musical notes.

“Mr. Katsaros didn’t appreciate my interpretations,” Sophia explained, her fingers tracing invisible constellations on the armrest.

“Interpretations?” Her father scoffed. “You should focus on the main components, not frivolous ideas.”

Sophia sighed. “The exam asked us to dissect the story and come up with a title for it. I chose ‘All for a Simple Overcoat.'”

Her father blinked, his eyes momentarily reflecting the spinning ceiling fan’s periodic motion. “And this is the title you chose?”

“Yes. The story was absurd, so I thought an absurd title would be fitting.”

Sophia’s mother drifted into the living room, still stirring her empty pot. “Maybe next time pick a title the teacher likes,” she suggested, her tone as flat as the two-dimensional clock on the wall that read 25 o’clock.

” Mr. Katsaros took off a lot of points because he didn’t like my choice of title and said my explanations were too in-depth,” Sophia continued. “He expected a straightforward list of each narrative component and even commented that my title should state ‘sarcastic’ in parentheses.”

Sophia’s  father shook his head, his disappointment materializing as a small storm cloud above. “You must learn to follow instructions. Tradition is built on adherence to expectations.”

Sophia stood up, the floor beneath her feet briefly turning into a conveyor belt rolling in the opposite direction. “But the story defied logic! It was about a man’s endless quest for an overcoat in a world where nothing made sense.”

“Exactly,” her father replied, as if she had just proven his point.

“Exactly what?” she asked, her frustration causing the room’s colors to invert momentarily.

“Exactly why you should have kept your analysis simple,” he insisted. “Focus on what is there, not on what is not.”

Her mother began dusting an invisible shelf. “Maybe the overcoat is just an overcoat,” she mused.

Sophia looked at her mother, searching for any sign of understanding but finding only the vacant expression of someone watching a play in a language they didn’t comprehend.

“You’re missing the point,” Sophia said softly.

“No, you are missing the point,” her father retorted. “Education is not about challenging the material; it’s about mastering it.”

Sophia felt the walls closing in. The room kept shrinking until it was barely larger than a closet. “I thought education was about thinking critically,” she countered.

Her father waved the exam paper in the air, which promptly turned into a paper airplane and flew out of his hand, circling the room. “Not when it leads to poor grades.”

Sophia watched the paper airplane loop and dive before landing at her feet. She picked it up and unfolded it, revealing the teacher’s scrawled note: “Your title should state ‘sarcastic’ in parentheses.”

“Enough of this,” declared her father, his voice causing the furniture to vibrate slightly. “Go to your room and study. Correctly, this time.”

Mother nodded in agreement, though she had now moved on to rearranging objects that weren’t there. “Yes, dear. Do as your father says.”

Feeling the weight of absurdity heavier than ever, Sophia retreated to her room. The staircase stretched infinitely upward, yet she climbed it in just three steps. Inside her room, gravity decided to take a break, allowing her to float gently toward the ceiling.

She lay back, suspended in mid-air, and stared at the floor now above her. “All this for a simple overcoat,” she whispered, echoing her ill-fated title.

The desk lamp flickered to life, casting dancing shadows, dancing to a rhythm she couldn’t hear. Sophia pulled out her notebook and began to write, each word dissolving as soon as it was formed.

“Maybe they’re right,” she thought. “Maybe I should just write what they want.”

As she contemplated the bleakness of it all, the letters she’d written regrouped themselves onto the page to spell: “Embrace the Absurd.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. Perhaps she wasn’t alone after all.

The door to her room opened without a sound, and her father poked his head in, appearing upside down from her inverted perspective. “Are you studying?” he asked, his eyes scrutinizing the emptiness of her floating desk.

“Yes, Father,” she replied, her words forming small bubbles that drifted toward him before popping.

“Good,” he said, closing the door.

She exhaled and let herself drift back down to the floor. Gravity had decided to return. Sitting at her desk, Sophia flipped through her textbook, the pages all blank except for a single line in the middle: “Understanding is a three-edged sword.”

Outside her window, the sun and moon hung side by side, indifferent to the contradictions they presented. She wondered if anyone else noticed or cared.

Unveiling Symmetry: A Structuralist Analysis of Signs in Watchmen and The Arrival

Despite their literary differences, the superhero comic Watchmen by Moore and Gibbons and the wordless novel The Arrival by Shaun Tan can both be analyzed through the lens of structuralism by exploring how signs, binary oppositions, and other structural elements interact within each text to create meaning. Different thinkers throughout history have brought their unique backgrounds, ideologies, and perspectives to the study of literature, leading to the development of various literary theories that parallel the philosophical and intellectual movements of the time. Structuralist analysis focuses on the abstract structures and internal patterns found within literary texts with the goal of developing a systematic method for identifying basic narrative elements.  Structuralist theory is therefore well suited for analyzing visual art like comics and graphic novels since human language provides a basic framework for how we perceive and categorize reality extending beyond written and oral communication.

Central to structuralism is the belief that meaning is produced through signs which result from the interaction between the signifier, representation of a sign, and the signified, concept represented by the signifier. In Watchmen signs are both visual and textual and include the doomsday clock, the watchmaker, Rorschach’s mask, Ozymandias’ pyramid and pet Bubastis, and Dr. Manhattan’s glass castle. These signs are essential elements to the storytelling, symbolism, and deeper purpose contained within the novel and derive their meaning from the binary opposition of contrasting concepts. In The Arrival, various signs and symbols convey meaning, emotions, and cultural aspects without the use of words. Some of the visual signs that give meaning to the narrative are faces, clocks, alien architecture, plants, strange creatures, coins, and paper boats. Even though The Arrival does not rely on explicit binary word oppositions, Tan uses the power of visuals and artistic storytelling to evoke contrasts and explore universal themes.

By intertwining different timelines and exploring characters’ reflections on their past, Watchmen weaves a narrative about the complexities of time and its profound impact on individuals and society. The doomsday clock is a recurring symbol representing the threat of nuclear war and the ticking countdown towards global catastrophe. The clock’s countdown to midnight reflects the pervasive anxiety and uncertainty of the Cold War era in which Watchmen is set. Each chapter begins with an update of the clock’s time, serving as a constant reminder of the potential devastating consequences of human actions. Characters explore the psychological and emotional impact that fear of nuclear war has on individuals and society. The watchmaker metaphorically represents philosophical notions related to determinism, free will, and the existence of a higher power. After a quantum accident transforms Dr. Manhattan into a superpowered being, he gains an understanding of time and space in which “there is no future. There is no past” and time becomes a “simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet” (Moore and Gibbons 27 Chapter IV). The recurring image of a watch suggests a predetermined and orderly design implying a mechanistic view of the universe that no one, not even a superhuman like Dr. Manhattan, has the power to change.

Clocks and timepieces are also featured prominently throughout the narrative of The Arrival as symbols of the passage of time. They appear in various scenes, often showing different time zones and life cycles representing the protagonist’s effort to adapt not only to a new spatial reality but also to a new temporal reality. Time progression is represented within the context of the immigrant experience, highlighting the challenges that come from having to adjust to a different culture and feelings of displacement and being out of sync with one’s surroundings. Longer passages of time are conveyed by beautifully detailed images of leaves and flowers as they go through their natural changes. Different stages of the protagonist’s journey correspond to different seasons and psychological states suggesting a cyclical view of life in the city. These visual cues show the evolving nature of the city and its inhabitants as well as the protagonist’s own transformation and adaptation. There are also small changes in the characters’ appearance, such as wrinkles and graying hair, which convey the accumulation of knowledge and capture the universal experiences of immigration, adaptation, and the transformative journey of life in a foreign land.

Contrasting elements and ideas give structure to the narrative of Watchmen and The Arrival in unique ways. The traditional binary opposition of hero vs villain becomes blurred in Watchmen due to the characters’ complex moral and psychological dimensions. Rorschach’s mask is an extension of his dedication to the mission of seeking justice and his unwavering belief in black and white morality. Providing anonymity, the mask allows Rorschach to become so immersed in the vigilante role that he loses touch with his human side. His masked persona is an expression of the darker aspects of the superhero archetype embodying a form of street justice that challenges conventional notions of heroism and is “never compromising. Not even in the face of Armageddon” (Moore and Gibbons 26 Chapter XI). Rorschach’s origin story is marked by trauma and hardship which deeply affect his outlook on life and contribute to his nihilistic and cynical perspective on society. With the belief that masked heroes “do not do this thing because it is permitted. [They] do it because [they] have to. [They] do it because [they] are compelled,” Rorschach criticizes the apathy and moral relativism prevalent in society (Moore and Gibbons 28 Chapter XII). His moral absolutism and refusal to compromise create a sense of isolation from the other masked heroes and from society as a whole, a situation reinforced by hiding behind the mask. Rorschach’s mask is a powerful symbol encapsulating his identity, psychology, and perception of the world in stark moral absolutes which lead to his uncompromising and ruthless pursuit of justice.

Although there are no villains in The Arrival, except for black ghosts inhabiting the protagonist’s home country, powerful visuals and artistic storytelling evoke contrasting ideas and themes that resonate deeply with the immigrant experience. Some of the juxtapositions found in the novel include the known vs the unknown, past vs present, and alienation vs connection. Simple illustrations of the protagonist’s home country represent familiarity, while the new city is depicted with more intricate images symbolizing the unfamiliar and foreign. The man’s experiences in the new city emphasize his individuality and the challenges of establishing a sense of belonging in a diverse and multicultural setting. The disorientation experienced by immigrants in a new and alien environment is highlighted by the distinction between the man’s life before and after migration and the continued effect of the past in shaping his perception of the present. Throughout the narrative, the protagonist experiences feelings of isolation and alienation as he struggles to communicate and connect with others, eventually experiencing moments of understanding and bonding with other fellow immigrants and more established city dwellers.

In both novels, buildings and animals hold significant symbolic meaning and play an essential role in character and plot development. Watchmen’s characters are often misled by their perceptions, suggesting that reality is also a constructed illusion and that truth is more elusive than it seems. Ozymandias’ pyramid symbolizes the grandeur and lasting influence of ancient Egyptian civilization consistent with his superhero identity and ambition to create a legacy through manipulation and “less obvious heroism” (Moore and Gibbons 20 Chapter XII). Ozymandias believes that by staging a massive catastrophe that would unite humanity against a common enemy, he can bring peace and stability to the world even if it means committing atrocities. This philosophical stance where the ends justify the means is best expressed by his statement that “for my world to live, yours must die” (Moore and Gibbons 22 Chapter XI). Bubastis, Ozymandias’ genetically engineered lynx, is a unique and exotic companion that serves as a symbol of his wealth, intelligence, and audacious ambition. The creature mirrors the vision of the new world order Ozymandias seeks to construct as a justification of his personal pursuit of power and control. As his only companion in the Arctic retreat, Bubastis reflects the isolation and emotional void in his life; despite his immense wealth and intelligence, Ozymandias lacks true emotional connections with others.

In sharp contrast with Ozymandias’ strong will and determination, Dr. Manhattan’s lack of free will leads him to create a crystal palace on Mars marking his self-imposed exile from Earth and subsequent withdrawal from humanity. Over time, Dr. Manhattan finds it difficult to relate to ordinary human experiences and emotions because of his god-like powers and unique perspective on time which give him a feeling of isolation and alienation in a reality where “a live body and a dead body contain the same number of particles” and “there’s no discernible difference” between life and death (Moore and Gibbons 28 Chapter IV). Everything in his life seems to be predetermined. Despite his superpowers, Dr. Manhattan is still “just a puppet who can see the strings” and is unable, or possibly unwilling, to prevent nuclear attacks on Earth (Moore and Gibbons 16 Chapter VI). With the destruction of his glass palace, Dr. Manhattan accepts the chaos and uncertainty of the world, the futility of searching for meaning and purpose, and the unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of reality. In the end, even Ozymandias’ misguided attempt to save humanity from itself will not have lasting effects and is “merely the calm before the inevitable storm” (Moore and Gibbons 29 Chapter XI).

In The Arrival, buildings and city architecture play a crucial role in conveying themes of displacement, cultural adaptation, and the need for belonging. As the protagonist navigates through the city, illustrations of buildings and urban landscapes symbolically accompany him in his journey. The new city’s architecture is intricate with fantastical designs contributing to an unknown and surreal feeling, and the environment is portrayed as vast and overwhelming with towering buildings and unfamiliar structures that would appear alien to any reader. The use of dark and dense high-rise buildings reflects the protagonist’s fear and disorientation in the new place. Tan juxtaposes traditional architecture from the protagonist’s homeland with modern urban landscapes in the new country to emphasize the clash between old and new, expressing the tension between preserving cultural traditions and assimilating into a new society. As the protagonist becomes familiar with the city and begins to form connections with other residents, the architecture shows more signs of life and warmth. The presence of people and activities around buildings expresses a more comfortable sense of community and the formation of a new shared cultural identity.

Animal-like creatures that appear throughout the narrative of The Arrival represent an unfamiliarity and otherness that mirrors the emotions of the protagonist as he faces the unknown. Unexpected encounters and experiences that come with the new and unfamiliar place stress the importance of exploration and discovery which lead to eventual adaptation and assimilation.  Unable to verbally communicate, these creatures exemplify the language barrier and difficulty in connecting with others in a foreign land. These panels vividly represent the shared experience of migration and displacement, reminding readers that such challenges are not limited to a specific time or place. As the protagonist becomes more familiar with the city and its inhabitants, he learns to communicate and interact with these creatures adding to his sense of belonging. Throughout the narrative, interactions with people and animals highlight the power of empathy and connection which transcends linguistic and cultural barriers.

Structuralist analysis of formal literary elements provides a valuable foundation for understanding texts which can be applied to very different types of graphic novels. Watchmen’s rich symbolism encapsulates the overarching themes of the novel, focusing on philosophical questions of determinism vs free will, the role of fear and power in social interactions, and the complexities of morality and heroism in a world on the brink of disaster. Symbols are also crucial elements in The Arrival due to its wordless structure and effectively communicate feelings of alienation by describing the painful but necessary process of adaptation experienced by immigrants throughout human history. The many symbols found in Watchmen and The Arrival underline human desire for control over one’s environment and the psychological need for hope and optimism for the future. Structuralist exploration of signs and their relationships within the text reveal unconscious patterns and conventions that influence the way readers interpret and understand literary works, including graphic art. Both novels blur the line between reality and imagination, creating meaning by adding depth and complexity to the narrative through the opposition of signs and symbols.

References

Moore, Alan and Dave Gibbons. Watchmen. DC Comics, 1986-1987. Graphic Novel.

Tan, Shaun. The Arrival. Arthur A. Levine Books, 2007. Graphic Novel.

Nomos, Physis, and a probabilistic social model

In the 5^th century BCE, Greek philosophers started questioning the moral universality of their laws and customs. In his masterpiece Histories, Herodotus illustrated a variety of customs from foreign nations by recording their traditions, politics, and history. Democritus’s atomistic theory suggested a reality that was substantially different from what can be observed and experienced with the senses, or even contemplated with the mind. Lastly, the Peloponnesian War and subsequent plagues proved to Athenians that nomoi, the laws of the republic, had become inconsequential, lacking the power to enforce appropriate behavior and even more frighteningly, incapable of protecting citizens from greater forces (Sophistic Political Thought,  2006/2019, p.54).  All these events led to the juxtaposition of the concepts of nomos and physis in the philosophical discourse of sophists, teachers of rhetoric who challenged commonly held assumptions about morality and ethics. Sophists explored the existence of physis as something that is naturally unchanging and universal in contrast with nomos, which refers to the arbitrary conventions, customs, and laws created by people.

Antiphon, one of the few sophists allowed to participate in Athenian politics thanks to his citizenship rights, argued that while people are forced to follow nomos because of its power to punish and reward, the true advantage is found in living one’s life in accordance with the laws of physis (Antiphon, p. 54). To Antiphon, “[j]ustice is a matter of not transgressing what the laws dictated by whatever city you are a citizen of” which allows for the possibility of personal transgressions going unpunished when no one is watching (Antiphon, p. 55). The core of his argument is that people should always obey the laws of nature even when unobserved. On the other hand, the laws of physis, such as life and death or the need for food and sleep, are universal constants in human life which cannot be disregarded by any human law.

Antiphon holds that the superiority of physis comes from its universal natural quality, sharply contrasting the subjectivity of nomos which is merely the result of mutual agreement between people. In fact, nomos can even be hostile to nature despite often appearing objective and impartial. For instance, certain laws may benefit particular groups while at the same time harming others, unlike natural laws according to which “things that are truly advantageous must not cause harm but benefit” (Antiphon, p. 55).  Antiphon claims that the type of justice provided by nomos is insufficient in practice because victory is achieved through rhetorical skills, making it independent from truth. In a court of law, an injured party must prove the facts to the jury and can be denied just compensation if the other party is able to convincingly deny any wrongdoing. In fact, breaking laws has little or no consequence if one doesn’t get caught because such offences don’t entail any intrinsic violation of physis.

Unlike Antiphon, Critias upholds the superiority of nomos over physis and defies tradition by developing logical arguments against the existence of gods and the divine. Hence, he contends that societies attribute divine origin to laws in order to claim their absolute and indisputable authority over what is considered to be proper behavior, when in reality they are simply human creations, just like the gods endowed with the power to enforce them. Critias focuses on the social control aspect of nomos, which “with false discourse obscure[s] the truth” by instilling fear of retribution from the gods (Critias, p. 57). When absolute moral standards are codified into laws, governments gain the power to restrict human freedom under perceived public consensus. If omniscient gods are watching people at all times, then breaking the laws will yield certain punishment, whether others are aware of such disobedience or not. In Critia’s view physis is controlled by nomos, curbing both lawlessness and selfish conduct.

Lastly, the writings by Anonymus Iamblichi emphasize the importance of self-discipline in the face of money’s corrupting influence. The moral lesson is for people to focus on the pursuit of virtue instead of excessively worrying about their souls or material possessions, trapped in a state of constant fear of “sickness, old age” and “sudden penalties or losses” (Anonymus Iamblichi, p. 57). The pursuit of virtue shouldn’t seek reputation but instead lead to truth as the only path to immortal glory. Since laws create an “atmosphere of trust” and “community of property,” true happiness can be achieved only by respecting physis as it expresses itself through nomos (Anonymus Iamblichi, p. 58). Consequently, when acting in accordance with the laws, people can feel safe in times of good fortune, while receiving help in times of bad fortune. Yet, Anonymus Iamblichi warns that every citizen must remain vigilant because of the looming danger of tyranny “which arises from nothing else than the nonobservance of the law” (Anonymus Iamblichi, p. 59).

I disagree with Antiphon’s belief that physis is the absolute natural law because there is no evidence to support or even suggest that nature was created with a specific purpose. Even basic bodily functions have no higher purpose than survival. The universe appears to be a self-contained system which abides by the known laws of physics whose regularity makes it intelligible to human inquiry, at least to some extent. However, many of its features seem arbitrary and nothing about it is necessary. On the other hand, I find Critia’s argument much more convincing since from a historical standpoint one of the main purposes of human religions has been social control. The Bible has had a deep influence in the legal systems of the West, including the American legal system which relies heavily on morality when defining illegal and dishonest acts. Anonymous Iamblichi also makes a compelling case for the utilitarian value of nomos as an expression of physis in promoting people’s goodness and tendency to act cooperatively in a social setting.

My approach to the debate on nomos and physis combines the main points made by Critias and Anonymous Iamblichi with a probabilistic model of society as a living organism. According to this model, political, economic, and individual diversity cause enough inequality to keep the system out of equilibrium.  The interaction of needs and wants over scarce resources both at the micro and macro level ensure a constant struggle in which society tends towards entropy or disorder. In order to keep the social system in an ordered state, energy from the outside has to be injected into the system in the form of information. The creation of infrastructures, economic entities, law enforcement, and other social institutions curb the natural tendency towards chaos. Constant vigilance and effort in the form of nomos guarantee the stability and safety of the social system.

Consequently, the main purpose of social norms is to improve society’s efficiency by encouraging coordination and cooperation amongst different parties. Laws maintain social order and can also be framed in a way that leads to increased social welfare. Agreeing beforehand on the rules of the game has the effect of avoiding conflict, thus minimizing wasted time and energy. Since there is a social and economic opportunity cost in engaging in unnecessary negotiations, excessively litigious cultures end up suffering from internal turmoil and lack of transparency. Therefore, nomos is required whenever positive or negative externalities are present and its effectiveness depends on the social nature of human beings.

 Nomos helps create social meaning and build trust by establishing a common system of beliefs and values, giving people the illusion of choice between possible alternatives. The expectation of conformity leads individuals to internalize norms as moral and experience guilt or shame when disobeying them. Social identity takes form when personal desires are voluntarily suppressed and individuals choose to assume and follow their expected roles. Group loyalty reinforces a sense of belonging to one’s community, while maximizing differences from the out-groups, thus allowing society to determine the amount of deviance it will tolerate and the appropriate punishment for those who break the norm.

The nomos vs physis debate started by the sophists in ancient Greece is still being debated by contemporary philosophers without having reached a clear consensus. Like Antiphon, some see human nature as intrinsically good and therefore superior to any legal system. Others, like Critias, have a negative view of humanity and assert the need for laws and customs to limit natural human tendencies. Anonymous Iamblichi takes a middle ground position by considering laws as the natural expression of the more social aspect of human nature. My position on this debate circumvents the question of whether human nature is good or bad by focusing solely on nomos as the expression of a probabilistic social framework, a closed system in which individuals benefit from mutual respect and cooperation because of their social nature.

References

Daniel Kolak and Garrett Thomson. (2006). The Longman Standard History of Ancient Philosophy. Sophistic Political Thought. Reprinted in Brian Tapia (Fall 2019), Phil 20A Ancient Philosophy (pp. 54-59). Foothill College: Cognella.

Is slavery an inherent characteristic of human societies?

The invention of agriculture created a surplus of goods which sustained a large population growth leading to wars over territory and resources. In ancient human history, slavery was an integral part of the economy and people were bought and sold as commodities in slave markets. In Babylonia, Egypt, the Akkadian Empire, Assyria, Greece, India, China, Nubia, and the Roman Empire, prisoners of war, criminals, people owing debts, and children of slaves could be subjected to slavery, although their conditions varied depending on the time, culture, and personal situation. Even though slaves were seen as inferior and even subhuman, slavery in ancient times did not assume a racial connotation. Nonetheless, tribes had different reputations shaping the social perceptions of a slave’s character, separating slaves from the rest of the population, turning them into outsiders without a culture nor dignity. Despite the fact that the institution of slavery is almost universally considered unethical and immoral in modern times, less conspicuous forms of slavery still continue today. The American prison industrial system, racial profiling, and overcriminalization are all examples of modern-day slavery.

According to Babylonian law, human worth depended on social status and wealth which determined the degree of punishment and the type of penalties applied to different crimes. The Code of Hammurabi stated that the consequences for not paying a debt or penalty were slavery or death, and that slaves had no civil rights other than the protection that may have been offered by the family who owned them (Fiero 27). Similarly, ancient Egypt relied on the work of slaves and servants to farm the land, but considered enslaving prisoners of war as a more humane option, also offering them the opportunity to buy their own freedom and that of their children by accumulating enough wealth through work and service (Fiero 56). Both ancient Chinese and Indian societies regarded class divisions as natural, based on skill, talent, and birth. The Chinese emperor was supported by a large number slaves, prisoners of war, who farmed the land during peacetime and provided military service during wartime. In India, the Aryans created a rigid caste system relegating those performing the most menial and degrading jobs to the role of Untouchables (Fiero 68).

Although ancient Greece and Rome developed the concept of citizenship, according to which people had certain rights simply for being citizens of a Greek city-state or the Roman Empire, both societies still heavily relied on slavery to support their economies. Greeks and Romans also allowed slaves to emancipate themselves by purchasing or winning their freedom in battle. In Athens women, children, non-Greeks, and slaves had very few to no legal rights because they could not quality for citizenship. Greek society defined a clear social structure with free males on top, and all non-Greeks relegated to the state of barbarians, or inferior outsiders (Fiero 87). The Roman Empire espoused the idea of a natural law according to which all non-Romans were inferior, and slaves were used in a variety of professions including housework, military service, public service, education, and unskilled labor. Romans demanded taxes, soldiers, tributes, and slaves from all the provinces under their administration, a practice that brought great wealth to their generals and politicians. As a consequence of this abundance of slave labor, patrician landowners were able to farm large-scale plantations, thus undermining the ability of small farmers to make a living from their land and increasing the concentration of wealth and social inequalities (Fiero 141).

On the other hand, ancient history is also marked by a desire to affirm and recognize the inherent dignity and worth of all human beings. The Epic of Gilgamesh, written in ancient Mesopotamia, expresses a desire to understand the human condition and challenges current legal practices. Utnapishtim, one of the main characters of the epic, tells Gilgamesh that all people, including the master and the slave, are equal in death regardless of their social status (Fiero 26). The benevolent Persian leader Cyrus the Great banned most forms of slavery and implemented the first charter of human rights, freeing slaves, allowing people to choose their own religion, and affirming racial equality. In ancient China, Confucianism stressed the importance of virtue, competence, ethics, and fairness towards all subjects, and advocated education for all, not just the wealthy. The imperial examination structure was meant to reward people based on merit and character, not family line. The Maurya Empire in India supported the humane treatment of all living creatures, advocating for vegetarianism and non-violence. The Hebrews also demonstrated a humanitarian inclination recognizing the worth of all human beings and applying their moral beliefs even to the treatment of slaves, having experienced captivity firsthand (Fiero 32). In Athens, Solon abolished debt slavery and expanded educational opportunities to the lower social classes, also encouraging them to participate in public service (Fiero 87).

Throughout human history, the commodification of people, the tendency to dehumanize those considered inferior, and the belief in a natural order of social stratification have been challenged by a desire to recognize the dignity of all people and define their worth based on the values of kindness, honor, wisdom, and trust. Contemporary American society also displays this ambivalence in treating human labor as simply a factor of production, just like land and capital, but also recognizing the importance of civil and human rights. In the United States penal labor is allowed under the 13^th Amendment which could be considered a form of modern legal slavery. Larkin defines overcriminalization as “the overuse and misuse of criminal law” which can take many forms such as creating laws outlawing too many acts, defining crimes too generally, not applying appropriate mens rea requirements, and increasing penalties to reduce crime statistics. Overly complicated and obscure laws have the unintended consequence of discouraging small investors and business owners in fear that they may inadvertently break the law. Moreover, courts have the power to define new crimes in a way that is not consistent with the rule of lenity which states that ambiguous laws should be interpreted narrowly to favor the defendant. Disregarding mens rea (guilty mind) and solely focusing on actus reus (guilty act) leads to unfair convictions and unnecessarily harsh punishments (Larkin).

In addition, prison cycling and mass incarceration have devastating effects on families, neighborhoods, and entire communities. Children of convicts have a much higher risk of incarceration and suffer from serious psychological problems. Current policies by the criminal justice system, prison-industrial system, and foster care system contribute to keeping people in a state of oppression, cripple the human capital of certain communities, and exacerbate income inequality. Lack of adequate education, health care, job training, and employment opportunities prevent marginalized communities from healing. To make things worse, no-tolerance high school policies create a fast path to prison for many young adults living in at-risk communities. Many incarcerated people suffer from drug addiction and mental health problems which lead to homelessness and joblessness once they return to the community. The stigma of being a criminal and a felon carries lifelong damaging effects (Adams et al.).

As American society fights back for the equality and fair treatment of all its citizens, different organizations and grassroots movements struggle to make their voices heard. Black Lives Matter (BLM) is a movement aimed at addressing the systemic anti-black violence caused by institutional, cultural, and individual racism, which in turn leads to racial inequalities and discrimination. The most pervasive form of racism in American society today is the prejudice sustained by a belief in the inferiority of black culture. In an effort to improve current criminal justice practices, BLM demands that the federal government prosecute police officers who abuse their power by killing innocent people and use independent prosecutors and an independent review board outside the police force to investigate police misconduct (Thomas and Zuckerman).

Racial profiling, police brutality, and racial discrimination in the courts account for higher bails, longer sentences, and higher conviction rates for blacks across the country. The emphasis on incapacitation and punishment overlooks the root causes of crime, preventing a constructive solution to the problem. In order to decrease the cost of incarceration, the American prison system decided to make prisoners work. Prison labor is a form of political and economic slavery because it is forced on inmates who are unable to benefit from the products of their labor since it is routed to wardens, state agencies, and private businesses. Many ex-convicts become exploited or exploiters in the black market because it is often the only option they have to earn a living.  The American justice system is creating a lower caste of outsiders who are seen as dangerous, untrustworthy, and selfish subhumans who only deserve punishment and shame. The belief in such stereotypes is “required by all systems of slavery” in order to rationalize and justify systematically oppressive behavior (Bair).

Since the beginning of ancient human history, societies have expressed a natural tendency to categorize people into in- and out-groups and to segregate them into social classes, heavily relying on economic systems that commodify human labor. At the same time, civilizations throughout history have fought to defend the inherent dignity and worth of all human beings. Contemporary American society demonstrates that this struggle is still present in modern times. The criminal justice system and prison industrial complex play an important role in society by punishing, rehabilitating, deterring, and diminishing crime. Unfortunately, many of the current legal and criminal practices have led to the modern-day slavery of inmates and to racial discriminatory policies that destroy entire communities, keeping people in an actual state of social, political, and economic subjugation.  Social justice movements like Black Lives Matter represent the relentless fight in defense of civil rights, social equality, and the humane treatment of all people.

 

References

Adams, M.; Klinsky, S.; Chhetri, N. Barriers to Sustainability in Poor Marginalized Communities in the United States: The Criminal Justice, the Prison-Industrial Complex and Foster Care Systems. Sustainability 2020, 12, 220.

Bair, Asatar P. Prison Labor in the United States : An Economic Analysis. Routledge, 2008. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=213300&site=ehost-live.

Fiero, Gloria K. The Humanistic Tradition. 6th ed., vol. 1, McGraw-Hill, 2011.

Larkin, Paul. “The Extent Of America’s Overcriminalization Problem – Analysis”. Eurasia Review, June 19, 2014 Thursday. ezproxyfh.fhda.edu:2143/api/document?collection=news&id=urn:contentItem:5CGY-B4Y1-JDJN-613F-00000-00&context=1516831. Accessed March 17, 2020.

Thomas, Dominique, & Allana Zuckerman. “Black Lives Matter in Community Psychology.” Community Psychology in Global Perspective [Online], 4.2 (2018): 1-8. Web. 17 Mar. 2020

 

 

Deconstruction of binaries as the unifying principle in Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness, Ted Chiang’s “Story of Your Life,” and Abbott’s Flatland

Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness, Ted Chiang’s “Story of Your Life,” and Abbott’s Flatland  challenge cultural assumptions about binaries which can be analyzed under the perspective of deconstruction. Each of these literary works tear down binaries and absolute universal categories endemic to Western thought since the time of Plato. The perspective of deconstruction questions how knowledge is created, the unreliable role of language in acquiring and transmitting information, and exposes the power structures that are responsible for maintaining customary cultural beliefs. Since every concept is defined and expressed through language, people become trapped in prejudice and bias, blinded by an unfounded conviction in the existence of an ultimate truth, the essence behind all things. By recognizing the value of the “in-betweens and the marginalized” deconstruction aims at building the kind of  “interstitial knowledge” that is missing in Western societies (Brizee and Tompkins15). The three narratives explore multiple truths and investigate endless possible meanings, while providing an original contribution to human understanding of reality.

The literary theory of deconstruction developed in response to the structuralist view that systems can be fully explained by their structure through language, and that entities are completely defined by their oppositions. Derrida, the creator and main proponent of deconstruction, based his philosophy on Nietzsche’s criticism of Plato’s model of ideals and absolute truths. According to Nietzsche truth is nothing more than “a mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, and anthropomorphisms—in short, a sum of human relations which have been enhanced, transposed, and embellished poetically and rhetorically, and which after long use seem firm, canonical, and obligatory to a people” (3). Human beings are responsible for creating cultural norms and social institutions which lead to structures of belief that with time assume a universal nature. Even something like space and time, which appear as immutable laws of nature, are “completely and solely contained within the mathematical strictness and inviolability of our representations” and therefore bounded by our consciousness and inaccurate worldview (6).

According to Derrida, giving a text a structural center limits its freeplay and forces it into a “coherence in contradiction” which effectively “expresses the force of a desire” (1). Deconstruction pushes the reader to abandon the comfort of certainties and absolute rules, going beyond the need for a “reassuring certitude” in which text, history, and culture have a clear and defined meaning. It is not exactly a “loss of the center” but more a “non-center” which makes textual interpretation richer and more complex (12). Derrida opposes the metaphysical assumption of closed structures which is behind the primacy of logocentrism, or the belief that truth can be found in reason, speech, and universal laws. From deconstructing opposing concepts, a trace emerges which effectively destroys our current metaphysical understanding of reality (“Introduction to Modern Literary Theory”   13).

The three science fiction works aforementioned embrace a deconstructive criticism of metaphysics of presence by subverting binary oppositions, hierarchies, and logocentrism which are prominent in Western thought and philosophy. In disrupting the categories of male/female, past/future, linear/holistic, Le Guin, Chiang, and Abbott reveal a trace of alternative possibilities and novel constructs. Le Guin argues that most science fiction, including her novel Left Hand of Darkness, can be considered a “thought-experiment” meant to provide some insight into the present human condition (1). Therefore, by developing “elaborate circumstantial lies” writers hope to eventually arrive at the truth (3).

As a feminist science fiction writer, Le Guin deconstructs the binary notion of gender and sexuality. In Left Hand of Darkness, recognizing that sex is “the heaviest single factor in one’s life” which determines “one’s expectations, activities, outlook, ethics, manners—almost everything. Vocabulary. Semiotic usages. Clothing. Even food”, Le Guin experiments with a different type of society in which sex is a trait of secondary importance (285). The humanoid aliens in the novel are androgynous in character and lack a permanent sexual identity, except during a few days every month when they experience kemmer and can temporarily assume the characteristics of either sex. Their ability to identify with either sex indiscriminately eliminates many of the dualities that are commonly found in human cultures: “There is no division of humanity into strong and weak halves, protective/protected, dominant/submissive, owner/chattel, active/passive. In fact the whole tendency to dualism that pervades human thinking may be found to be lessened, or changed, on Winter” (122). It is also hypothesized that the aliens are capable of greater empathy because they can identify with either sex, since people are “respected and judged only as a human being” (123).

In proposing a new conception of gender and sexuality Le Guin is not necessarily “predicting that in a millennium or so we will all be androgynous, or announcing that [she] think[s] we damned well ought to be androgynous” (3). Instead, by deconstructing the binary notion of sex, the author explores what makes us human and speculates on the types of cultures that could arise under a different gender paradigm. Telling the story from the perspective of two different narrators, one who experiences “biological shock […] as a human male among human beings who were, five-sixths of the time, hermaphroditic neuters” (68)  and the other who believes that remaining in a permanent state as a male or female is a perversion, Le Guin encourages the reader to keep an open mind about sexuality and question the belief in absolute categories.

In Flatland, Abbott deconstructs sex and social class distinctions by engaging in a satirical portrayal of gender and class divisions in Victorian England. Flatland is a two dimensional world inhabited by geometric figures who are divided into a rigid hierarchy of social class based on the number of sides and regularity of shape. Women are straight lines, isosceles triangles are at the bottom of society after women, then equilateral triangles, squares, pentagons, hexagons, and higher sided polygons until the highest priest circle class is reached. The figures are indoctrinated into maintaining the hierarchy with constant reminders to “attend to [their] configuration” and any attempts of rebellion are met with imprisonment and execution (41). By anthropomorphizing geometric figures, Abbott shows how arbitrary and unnecessary such class and gender distinctions truly are. Women are the lowest figures, one dimensional lines, with no depth to them. Supposedly strongly affected by emotions, they are considered dangerous and untrustworthy: “it was decreed by the Chief Circle that since women are deficient in Reason but abundant in Emotion, they ought no longer to be treated as rational, nor receive any mental education” (43). This absurd notion is not so preposterous when considering the various ways in which women have been discriminated against throughout history.

Another binary notion deconstructed in these science fiction novels is that of past and future. In The Left Hand of Darkness, the protagonist Ai has a fluid notion of time due to his ability to perform time-jumps, implying that the perception of time is relative to the observer. During his adventures, Ai encounters the Foretellers of Handdara who have the ability to see the future. The reader is forewarned from the beginning by the story of Lord Shorth who was stoned to death after wanting to know the meaning of life, something that even the Foretellers could not answer. Proposing a unified idea of time, Le Guin suggests that the power to see the future could in fact be simply the power to see everything at once:  “In this matter the Yomeshta also have a point: the gift is perhaps not strictly or simply one of foretelling, but is rather the power of seeing (if only for a flash) everything at once: seeing whole” (247). Yet, knowledge of the future turns out to be useless in terms of how individual decisions are made and grasping which questions are “unanswerable, and not answer[ing] them” is just as important as finding answers (189).

The heptapods from Ted Chiang’s “Story of your life” also question common assumptions about the linear conception of time. The story addresses the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, which in its weakest form states that the structure of language determines one’s worldview. Heptapod-B is a “grammar in two dimensions” like math and music, with many levels of embedded clauses, no required word order, and an interconnected writing system made of single continuous strokes, which reflect heptapod anatomy “with eyes on all sides, any direction might as well be forward” (4). The continuity problem of a writing system that doesn’t have a direction becomes an asset for the protagonist as “[her] thoughts [become] graphically coded” and she starts to acquire a simultaneous mode of consciousness, learning how to see both past and future at once (26).

These science fiction novels transcend our way of thinking in an attempt to create a new unified order out of chaos. In undermining the hegemony of binaries and their claim of universality, the authors overcome narrow cultural conventions and present unique ways to acquire knowledge and perceive reality. The Foretellers and the heptapods can offer the structural unification sought by Derrida. The pointlessness of knowing anything is highlighted by the leader of the Foretellers claiming that his focus is on “unlearning, not learning ” (92). He wisely states that “the only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty: not knowing what comes next” (96). Thus, enlightenment consists in unlearning, and even knowledge of the future can be useless in terms of how individual decisions are made.

Similarly, Flatland challenges our cultural assumptions and our understanding of knowledge and reality. In the preface the author comments on how common and widespread prejudices are, thus foreshadowing people’s inability to perceive higher dimensions: “how strong a family likeness runs through blind and persecuting humanity in all Dimensions! Points, Lines, Squares, Cubes, Extra-Cubes – we are all liable to the same errors, all alike the Slavers of our respective Dimensional prejudices” (5). A Square’s dreams about two fictional worlds, Lineland and Poinland, lead him to hypothesize the existence of a fourth and even  higher dimensions. In contrast, the Monarch of Pointland is so narrow minded that he cannot even conceive of other beings existing besides himself. He is trapped in his  “omnipresence and omniscience” wallowing in “his self-satisfaction” (76). The key is to make the reader experience something counterintuitive, which goes against sensory perception and common sense. The figures of Lineland can’t comprehend a third dimensions the same way in which we can’t understand the mysteries of theoretical physics. Even when the algorithms provide proof, our senses can’t quite grasp the concepts behind them. Scientists and mathematicians are often trapped in the limitations of their current philosophical paradigms.

Finally, Chiang explores the manner in which neurological configurations affect one’s consciousness and perception of reality. Heptapod anatomy allowed for the development of a very different mathematical system based on their observation of the physical universe. Such a teleological conception of physical causality is counterintuitive to the human mode of thinking, but not an impossibility. Chiang proposes an alternate form of consciousness by contrasting human “sequential mode of awareness” with heptapod “simultaneous mode of awareness” which causes them to experience every event concurrently, presenting them with the knowledge of the underlying purpose behind everything (31). Such beings are “neither free nor bound” rendering freedom and coercion into meaningless concepts (33).

These works of science fiction encourage the reader to constantly question  and critically reflect on the social norms and values that are so easily taken for granted, while opening a universe of infinite possibilities. Speculative writers like Le Guin, Chiang, and Abbott challenge the belief that everything exists in clearly defined and opposite parts, often with the assumption of one part being superior to the other. They expose the danger inherent in ideologies that divide the world into distinct and unchangeable opposites, and address it by substituting a worldview that embraces nuances and uncertainty, effectively removing the fear of the other. Acceptance of our differences replaces simplicity and certainty with complexity and confusion, in the end bringing about a major philosophical paradigm shift and leading to a unified sense of harmony.

 

 

References

Brizee, Allen and J. Case Tompkins. “Literary Theory and Schools of Criticism.” Web. <https://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/owlprint/722/&gt;.

Derrida, Jacques. “Structure, Sign, and Play in the Discourse of the Human Sciences.” (1970): Web.  <http://www2.csudh.edu/ccauthen/576f13/DrrdaSSP.pdf&gt;

Edwin, Abbott Abbott. Flatland. (1884) Ebook.

“Introduction to Modern Literary Theory Literary Trends and Influences.” Ebook.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. “On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense.” (1873): Web. <nietzsche.holtof.com/Nietzsche_various/on_truth_and_lies.htm>.

Mary, Shelley. Frankenstein. (1831): Ebook.

Ted, Chiang. “Story of Your Life.” Stories of Your Life and Others. (2002): Ebook.

Ursula, K. Le Guin. The Left Hand of Darkness. (2000): Ebook.

 

The Zero Theorem

Qohen Leth, the protagonist of Zero Theorem, is a rather peculiar individual who spends his days anxiously awaiting for the phone call which holds the meaning of life. Like many other office drones employed by Mancom, Qohen is “crunching entities to bring order to disorder” in the hope of finding the solution to the mysterious Zero Theorem. In a connected world, those who choose to become disconnected from society are able to pierce through the superficiality of the modern world and end up seeing through the nonsensical messages that those in power desperately attempt to sell. As a result of such detachment, physical reality ultimately appears as loud, feverish, intrusive, and exhaustingly meaningless. Qohen’s city is filled with rundown buildings, mind controlling advertisements, and colorful people who sound insane and all look the same. Eventually, Qohen discovers that the Zero Theorem is nothing more than a mathematical formula which will prove the meaninglessness of life. Ironically, Qohen’s obsession with uncovering the meaning of life causes him to lead a meaningless life. In the end, everything is nothing and pure consciousness is the only reality.

This movie made me realize that deception is a necessary feature of human existence. We live in a delusional state of awareness, using our minds to filter meaning in a perpetual attempt to ignore our sense of powerlessness. Science itself is nothing more than a consistent method for doubting and scientific efforts can only make us sure that we can never be sure, under no circumstances knowing what we truly know. Scientists construct a fantasy for us that is logically consistent but upon skeptical examination is filled with nothing more than contradictions.

Despite human predilection for positive thinking, negative truths are more fundamental than positive truths. It is no accident that all logical connectives are defined by the NAND operator. Because negation is mentally difficult to accept, we are steered towards the danger of drawing existential conclusions from our own psychological preferences. Yet, the wound of non-meaning is inevitable. Nothing matters and our existential angst is before nothing. In philosophy, we become ensnared by the explanatory trap of deducing the existence of something by relying on the existence of something else. There is no logical bridge from nothing to being, unless we rely on existential premises. Hence, our existence is trapped in an infinite regress where space is contained in higher space and time dated with another time. In the end, the metaphysical bias for simplicity, when taken to its logical conclusion, takes us to nonexistence.

Certain interpretations of quantum physics seem to support this view. According to the holographic principle, the universe consists of 2D information encoded on a light-like boundary, such as a gravitational horizon. Every object contains information through its particle arrangement and, upon crossing the event horizon of a black hole, that information is captured and encoded on the surface of the black hole. But what type of information is it? The division of particles into sub particles has to stop at some level with the smallest fundamental particle being a 0 or a 1, that is, a bit of information. On a quantum scale, bits are everywhere at once. They are dimensionless, motionless, and lack an absolute location. Extending this concept to the whole universe makes it nothing more than the projection of distant data. The macroscopic scales and low energies that make up our perceived reality cause us to observe three dimensions. Nevertheless, as Einstein stated, “Reality is only an illusion, albeit a persistent one.”

It is likely that in our everlasting quest for knowledge all we are going to discover is that we are trapped in this illusion of space and time, just like insects in amber. Like Qohen, we are going from nowhere to nothing. And true freedom can only be attained through the realization of nothingness. Life is nothing more than a movie projected onto the big screen. Nothing is real. All there exists is the sound of silence.

To Self or Not To Self

Is there a self? At first glance, the answer to this question seems obvious. Of course there is a self. I am me after all. But what is it to be me? I could identify myself with my name, my job title, my physical characteristics, my personality traits, my beliefs, my culture, and so on. Yet, these labels are nothing more than a social convention employed by humans to attribute a fixed identity to noumenal reality. Certainly, this concept of self we have created for ourselves makes us feel safe and in control. We identify very passionately with it. After all, how could we go about our daily lives without knowing our identity? How could we have meaningful interactions with others?

Nevertheless, despite how strongly we would like to believe the self exists, it is nothing more than an illusion. We are not the same person we were five years ago, both psychologically and physically. We are not who we think we are. Consciousness gives individuals the illusory sense of continuity by allowing them to be inside their own heads, to place their past sensory and emotional experiences into a unified and seemingly coherent sense of presence. Yet, consciousness is irreducibly subjective and memories are not as trustworthy as we would like to think.

Since the greater part of the mind is unconscious, how can our consciousness define who we are? Split brain experiments show that the intentionality of mind can function both at the conscious and unconscious level. People are capable of inventing reasons for behavior that is unconscious and many high-level brain functions such as complex language and abstract math can occur outside of consciousness. Moreover, people can repress unpleasant memories and unknowingly transfer them to the subconscious level.

Memories themselves are not very reliable because of their malleability. When we form memories we are interpreting external experiences in a manner consistent with our beliefs, culture, prior knowledge, and personal goals. Cognitive behavioral studies show that the relationship between memories and reality is quite complex as subjects are able to recall both true and false memories. And just like the frames that make up a movie, individual memories produce the illusion of continuity.

So, if consciousness is deceptive, why did it develop in living beings? According to some neuropsychologists, consciousness is a delusion created by natural selection to serve our interests. Consciousness allows individuals to feel emotions, which in turn correlate external events to different brain states. Emotions provide the motivation to do things that are biologically beneficial. Hence, as Hume said, the self is nothing more than a discrete bundle of perceptions, feelings, and sensations aimed at serving our own interests. The bounded, unified self is merely the product of brain activity and consciousness is responsible for giving us the illusion of the continuity of the self.  Impermanence is an irrefutable property of human existence. We are changing beings, always in flux, just like the water flowing in a river.

The Discourse on the Not-self, purportedly delivered by the Buddha, states that the five aggregates of self (consciousness, form, mental formations, feelings, and perceptions) are impermanent and therefore unsatisfactory in defining the self. According to Buddhist philosophy, only by transcending our deceptive sense of self can we experience the world more clearly. With this clarity of vision we can flow in harmony with the reality around us without trying to change the nature of things. Once we become liberated from the illusion of the self, we will be left with pure awareness.

Maybe the true nature of our existence, and the self, will manifest itself only in a state of complete mental emptiness, in the absence of perceptions, emotions, and thoughts.  Or maybe being both the subject and the object, the self is incapable of understanding itself. Just like in Russell’s paradox, self-application makes the problem unsolvable because in order to know that it is impossible to know, one must prove that there is no proof.