I recently came across an idea so simple and so obviously true that I was stunned that it had so little currency in the world at this time: no one owes anyone else sex, love or companionship.
It seems obvious, but many, if not most people, go out into the world expecting to have their sexual/amorous needs fulfilled. We learn as kids that someday 'the right person' will come along just to fulfill those needs. As kids we absorb this lesson, and the implication that God or the Universe or whatever has specifically designed another human being whose purpose (even if it is one purpose among others) is to fulfill our sexual and companionship needs.
And yet, not only is this assumption not true, it's rather appalling. To believe someone else is set aside for my sexual and/or companionship needs is to reduce the agency of this prospective person relative to my own. It makes this person an object. And so, I go out into the world specifically looking for a humanoid object whose purpose is to meet my needs.
In other words, when we go out into the world specifically seeking satisfaction for our sexual and/or companionship needs, we aren't looking for another human being; we're looking for someone fulfilling a role, a role that is specifically designed for our fulfillment.
The consequences of having a society of people out looking for objects, for role-players, is at the least a lot of sexual frustration. At worst it results in dehumanizing relationships, rape and violence. If a person feels very strongly that he is owed sex and companionship by someone, and if this desire overwhelms his morality and ethics, he may force another into fulfilling those needs.
Our society's norms on marriage and sex are changing, and our ethics and traditions haven't kept up with those changes. It used to be that a man exchanged some livestock for a woman, and the woman became his property. Later, marriage was pursued via a period of courtship, but economic factors were the prime motivator (i.e., the man exchanges bread-winning for housekeeping and childbearing from the woman, and decisions to marry were based on a mix of relative prosperity and whether the two believed they could tolerate one another for a lifetime). Now, with the rise of female financial independence and non-heterosexual relationships, the quest for companionship is based largely on our beliefs about love.
But we don't know how to find that love because we start out with the premise that we deserve it, which implies that someone out there owes it to us, rather than simply being worthy of it. And when we pursue something we think we deserve, we can become too aggressive and we disregard the wants and needs of others.
Friday, February 8, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
At the Workbench
When I was a kid, my dad built a tool shed in the backyard. It was a decent sized shed, and he built a workbench that stretched across the length of the back wall. He could go out there and build things, fix things, or even repurpose things. In the front of the shed, in one of the corners, he built me a small workbench, and I used it to store odds and ends, and make things myself.
I grew up at a time of transition in US society. My dad, a product of the Great Depression, was accustomed to making things he needed, from scratch or from the parts of other things. Old electric fans were salvaged for their motors. The motors might be used for a new fan, or some other item. I learned to make things, too. But I also learned that a little bit of cash could buy me the things I wanted.
In other words, during my lifetime, the consumer culture became ascendant. Many things people made or did for themselves became purchasable. And so instead of putting time and effort into creating what one wanted, one put time and effort into getting the cash to buy what one wanted.
There is nothing wrong with this. Our society in it's current state requires people to buy most of what they need in order to continue functioning. It's called commodification.
There is a problem, however, when commodification bleeds over into areas of our lives that become dysfunctional when commodified. One such area is love. You cannot buy love, but that hasn't stopped people from shopping for it.
We are accustomed to being able to go out and obtain the perfect flavored water or the perfect throw pillows. We expect that if we are sufficiently attenuated in our tastes, we can still find just the right thing, out of all the things available. So why can't we do the same with people? In other words, if I look hard enough, and I'm sufficiently discriminating in my tastes, why can't I find the perfect boyfriend?
Simply this: people are not commodities. There's nothing you can exchange in order to get just the right person in your life. No one is exactly the right boyfriend. Furthermore, no one is unchanging. However close a person comes to being just the right boyfriend right now, he won't stay that way. Physically and mentally he'll change over time.
But if you are accustomed to getting exactly, or almost exactly, what you want simply by exchanging for it, then settling for a person as he is becomes difficult, if not impossible.
And yet, I also cannot go out to my metaphysical workbench and build the perfect boyfriend. At my metaphysical workbench, I can only build myself. But that is another post entirely.
I grew up at a time of transition in US society. My dad, a product of the Great Depression, was accustomed to making things he needed, from scratch or from the parts of other things. Old electric fans were salvaged for their motors. The motors might be used for a new fan, or some other item. I learned to make things, too. But I also learned that a little bit of cash could buy me the things I wanted.
In other words, during my lifetime, the consumer culture became ascendant. Many things people made or did for themselves became purchasable. And so instead of putting time and effort into creating what one wanted, one put time and effort into getting the cash to buy what one wanted.
There is nothing wrong with this. Our society in it's current state requires people to buy most of what they need in order to continue functioning. It's called commodification.
There is a problem, however, when commodification bleeds over into areas of our lives that become dysfunctional when commodified. One such area is love. You cannot buy love, but that hasn't stopped people from shopping for it.
We are accustomed to being able to go out and obtain the perfect flavored water or the perfect throw pillows. We expect that if we are sufficiently attenuated in our tastes, we can still find just the right thing, out of all the things available. So why can't we do the same with people? In other words, if I look hard enough, and I'm sufficiently discriminating in my tastes, why can't I find the perfect boyfriend?
Simply this: people are not commodities. There's nothing you can exchange in order to get just the right person in your life. No one is exactly the right boyfriend. Furthermore, no one is unchanging. However close a person comes to being just the right boyfriend right now, he won't stay that way. Physically and mentally he'll change over time.
But if you are accustomed to getting exactly, or almost exactly, what you want simply by exchanging for it, then settling for a person as he is becomes difficult, if not impossible.
And yet, I also cannot go out to my metaphysical workbench and build the perfect boyfriend. At my metaphysical workbench, I can only build myself. But that is another post entirely.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
A Quick Note on Gender
This morning, after an unpleasant elevator ride, I wanted to grab my phone and gripe on Twitter:
After all, when something annoying happens, the first impulse is to gripe about it online, right? LOL.
But I stopped myself, and not because I'm trying to gripe less online (although that is a factor). Rather, I asked: was the person's annoying behavior gender-specific? No, it wasn't. So why would I write "Some woman" when I could write "A person", and still get my point across?
I try not to use gender-specific nomenclature to describe behaviors and persons, especially annoying behaviors and/or persons, unless the gender is particularly relevant. Usually, the annoying behavior I encounter is simply human behavior, and not specifically male or female. Rarely is it gender-specific.
So why would I choose to be cautious about mentioning the gender of a person exhibiting annoying behavior? Simply this: I don't want to reinforce negative stereotypes. If I say, "Some woman" did X which I hate, there's a very good chance I or someone hearing what I say/reading what I wrote will think, "Yeah, and women can be such b*s!" And so I've reinforced a negative stereotype. The point isn't that women can be such b*s, or men can be such d*s, but that human being can be jerks. And when they're jerks, it rarely has to do with their gender; it has to do, instead, with their humanity.
IMHO, we need to think carefully about how we use gender in conversation (and online), and work to avoid reinforcing negative stereotypes. I'm not saying there is no gender-specific annoying behaviors (just this morning I remarked that men can be real pigs about sexuality and attractiveness), but usually even those behaviors are culturally conditioned rather than biologically inherent. Even the tendency for men to be pigs, LOL.
DC sucks! Some woman with two huge bags shoved me into the corner of the elevator. No respect for space! #dclife
After all, when something annoying happens, the first impulse is to gripe about it online, right? LOL.
But I stopped myself, and not because I'm trying to gripe less online (although that is a factor). Rather, I asked: was the person's annoying behavior gender-specific? No, it wasn't. So why would I write "Some woman" when I could write "A person", and still get my point across?
I try not to use gender-specific nomenclature to describe behaviors and persons, especially annoying behaviors and/or persons, unless the gender is particularly relevant. Usually, the annoying behavior I encounter is simply human behavior, and not specifically male or female. Rarely is it gender-specific.
So why would I choose to be cautious about mentioning the gender of a person exhibiting annoying behavior? Simply this: I don't want to reinforce negative stereotypes. If I say, "Some woman" did X which I hate, there's a very good chance I or someone hearing what I say/reading what I wrote will think, "Yeah, and women can be such b*s!" And so I've reinforced a negative stereotype. The point isn't that women can be such b*s, or men can be such d*s, but that human being can be jerks. And when they're jerks, it rarely has to do with their gender; it has to do, instead, with their humanity.
IMHO, we need to think carefully about how we use gender in conversation (and online), and work to avoid reinforcing negative stereotypes. I'm not saying there is no gender-specific annoying behaviors (just this morning I remarked that men can be real pigs about sexuality and attractiveness), but usually even those behaviors are culturally conditioned rather than biologically inherent. Even the tendency for men to be pigs, LOL.
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