I used to live with a Fransiscan nun who did lots of outreach work. I'm thus quite fond of Fransiscans. — fdrake
Very cool. Individual Franciscans are hit or miss for me, but I do appreciate their overall ethos and I have met some remarkable individuals.
...though we ended up having a lot of heated discussions regarding whether brutal tragedies, like miscarriages, should be seen as other parts of God's artwork. I was of the impression that all of creation meant all of it, the nun agreed. Neither of us could quite stomach loving the majesty of suffering and indifference. The damnedest thing we spoke about was that it was ultimately our senses of compassion and espirit de corps with humanity that stopped both of us from also loving pain. — fdrake
I'm an orthodox Christian, and the orthodox answer is that the state which brings about tragedy flows out of the Fall. Christians have not traditionally accepted tragedy as part of God's (primary) plan, and that's why. It doesn't surprise me that Christians who throw out those doctrines run into these problems. The doctrines are there for a reason. You get the same thing in Catholic theology with limbo. Limbo is thrown out and then you end up with all sorts of intractable problems with the stark heaven/hell dichotomy. We forget that the doctrines were there for a reason, and cannot be thrown out indiscriminately.
When I've been referring to supererogatory acts, I've been wondering if I should've come up with another construct like "acts that would be considered supererogatory if they were not coerced or compelled in any sense". — fdrake
Yes, that would quell many of my critiques. "That would have been a heroic act if he had chosen it himself!"
I kept referring to them as supererogatory to play with the question I just asked you regarding that distinguishes an act which one feels compelled to do and an act which one is really compelled to do. It is a hard question, as it seems you agree? — fdrake
Well the simple answer is that self-compulsion is not possible, and that one cannot be compelled by something which is not an agent. Or more precisely, that the "mixed nature" of an act like jettisoning cargo does not count as involuntary. But at that point we're picking at your attempt to blur the line between being compelled by an agent and being compelled by a circumstance.
To be blunt, I don't see how injustice (or monstrosity) can arise via compulsion unless there is an actual agent doing the compelling. One might feel—or be—compelled to jettison cargo, and they can feel frustrated about that, but I don't see anything unjust or monstrous about this. If you bring in the idea of gods or demons and say that Poseidon is a monster for compelling you to jettison cargo, then all of the logic is restored (and I wonder if this sense of "monstrosity" is a hangover from that view of gods). I'm not really opposed to that view of gods or angels/demons, so this isn't a full-scale criticism of that sense of monstrosity, but it is a criticism of the idea that one can be unjustly or monstrously compelled when no other agent is involved.
The more mundane question here is whether it is rational to get angry at a circumstance which is no one's fault. It's not an uninteresting question given that we do get angry in that manner quite often.
I should then perhaps conclude {on the same basis as the previous paragraph} that I was obliged to use two antibacterial wipes to clean my kitchen counter. Which means using three would've been a dereliction of duty. Which is absurd. — fdrake
I would say that:
1. If
1a. You are obliged to clean your flat, and
1b. Cleaning your flat entails cleaning the kitchen counter, and
1c. You decide to clean the counter with antibacterial wipes, and if 1c...
1d. ...Then two antibacterial wipes are required to clean the counter
-then-
2. You are obliged to use
at least two antibacterial wipes when cleaning your kitchen counter
<(1a ∧ 1b ∧ 1c ∧ (1c → 1d)) → 2>
If we omitted the words "at least" from (2) then the conditional would be false, as there is no obligation to use
exactly two wipes (unless we want to bring in another premise, say, about wasting wipes). That is, your claim that using three would be a dereliction of duty is false.
This is relevant because Y could be a supererogation, and you could not derive a contradiction from X entails Y and one-ought-X due to the failure of the syllogism.
Which is the situation I am construing us as being in. We have obligations, those obligations entail supererogatory acts, but nevertheless we are not obliged to do them. — fdrake
I don't see that this is correct. If we let Y = 3 antibacterial wipes (which is supererogatory), then the entailment fails. It fails because at that point X no longer entails Y. Being obliged to do X does not oblige us to do Y.
Even though we are required to do them to fulfil our obligations in some sense. — fdrake
In what sense is one required to use three antibacterial wipes in order to clean the kitchen counter?
So if one believes one ought to do something about climate change, "your bit" is recycling, but everyone knows it's not enough. — fdrake
As I said previously, if recycling is not enough then one who has recycled has not yet done their bit, at least if the joint "bits" are supposed to be sufficient.
Nevertheless I want to insist that you really have succeeded in your duties if you do your bit. It's just that succeeding in your duties doesn't correspond to your duties fulfilling their intended function or purpose. Like addressing the existential threat climate change poses to human civilisation on the basis of putting the sardine tin in the green bin. — fdrake
Again, I would describe this as naïveté about what is required, or sufficient, or obligatory. If someone believes that putting the sardine tin in the green bin is sufficient to address climate change, then they believe a false proposition.
Earlier I said:
Unless you're just saying that the many are lazy and therefore the few have to pick up the slack, but that seems like a different argument. — Leontiskos
Even though that's not a very poetic or interesting way to phrase it, it's basically how I see the issue. If we view humans as social and hierarchical creatures rather than as atomic individuals, then the human community will require disproportionate sacrifice from the few in order that the whole community may thrive. This disproportionate sacrifice is arguably supererogatory (on a democratic-individualistic paradigm), and it is also a hypothetical imperative unto the end of communal flourishing (or in some cases, communal survival). But on an ancient paradigm the disproportionate work is not a burden, for the model of excellence was the heavenly spheres, which are constantly "working," and on which everything else depends to the utmost, but yet which have the most excellent and beautiful job of all.
Historically that is also how the saint or prophet would tend to view themselves (excepting the many saints who are too humble to think too long on themselves). It's not that they have a monstrous, burdensome, supererogatory job.* Rather, it's that they have been blessed to sit at the head of the table, near the Host, and that "the greatest is the servant of all." They imitate the Host who is kenotically pouring Himself out ceaselessly—who moves "the sun and the other stars." Besides, your point still finds a home in the idea that, "To whom much has been given, much will be demanded" (Luke 12:48).
This is why lots of Christians find the liberal-democratic paradigm rotten at its core, for it cannot but help view disproportionate service as tyrannical or monstrous.
* With certain exceptions such as Jeremiah or Jonah