2 Comments

Thanks, Chris. At one level, then, we fail to find compassion when we commit to a particular view of the culpability of agents who possess free will, that is, to the view of "just desserts".

I wonder if there isn't also an affective state that is deeper at play here than what I see as a more cognitive or ideological process that you highlight in the just desserts view. What I am thinking of here is resentment. Briefly: A few months ago, I was riding my bike along the South Creek trail and, moving at a good pace, startled a woman who was walking in the same direction with her dog. When I looked back to wave an apology, I was met with an expression first of shock then anger and, as I sensed it from her deep scowl, arriving at resentment. The dog had jumped too when I passed, but then went right on sniffing the pavement. It seems that, unlike for the dog, I had not only surprised this woman but, within a few moments, deeply offended her by my actions. Had she the power, I suspect she might have had me fined on the spot or at least have me put into the gallows somewhere along the trail due to my crime.

Of course, maybe I deserve such a punishment. It can be dangerous to bike so quickly past people on foot. What would have bothered me was not so much to have been fined for my behavior (in this hypothetical) but that the person who I offended was indeed so personally offended at my actions, as if I had woken up with the idea in my head to ride past her and startle her and her dog. And here is where I think resentment is more caustic and elemental than the cognitive/ideological process of assigning due blame, and that such an affect is especially dangerous in its potential to motivate such higher-level thinking.

I am reminded of Nietzsche's views on pity. If my take on N's view is right here, pitying someone does as much harm to you as to the one you pity - it reflects a desire to "take possession" of that person under the guise of compassion when in fact you are using the opportunity to service your own flailing sense of self-confidence. Similarly, when we resent someone we feel has wronged us, we project a noxious internal state, whatever it is that sources our resentment, onto a convenient target, say, the first person who cuts us off in traffic.

Of course, this analogy does not track as well onto situations of abuse or injustice in which a strong emotional reaction is clearly proportional, or at least highly understandable, in relation to the wrongs committed. Though I suspect that a person wrongfully convicted of murder will, are they able to muster the fortitude, prefer the state of confident resolve to that of bitter resentment as they go about challenging their conviction or merely serving their time.

Where I think this leaves us is an ability to better elucidate a world in which compassion and punishment can co-exist. As you remark, making compassion a priority does not have to mean justifying poor or harmful behavior. Yet I am not entirely convinced of a world in which we assume less agency upon people as a means to ensure their compassionate treatment. (That said, I am at the same time wholly convinced that crimes are often the product of people's circumstances and should be treated as such.) What my admittedly incomplete reflection here suggests is that people may be held responsible for their actions, so long as judgement is only be applied by those who can be shown to be acting free of resentment. (I am, again, immediately suspicious of this conclusion, as a dispassionate meting out of the death penalty does not seem to have any moral advantage over a murder motivated by burning resentment.)

In sum, I suspect that our views of culpability as a factor of free will are the waves on a deeper surface of affect which drive our judgements and thus are worth a fuller examination. Of course, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for the thought-provoking post.

Expand full comment