Strength as a Barrier to the Human and the Humane

To be Freudian about it, entitlement in infantile.  We all at some point make the transition from a world where our every whim is met as quickly as possible into that era when we first hear "no" and find that our behavior is judged and sometimes disliked.  To interact with this new reality of the world, we as toddlers become something else from what we were as infants.

If we did not change, we would be immortals.  Not God, in his perfection, but demons.  Unable to comprehend either limitation and differentiation, our only possible output would be destruction.  It is because of our imperfection that we are human; it is because of the process of becoming that we are humane.  Empathy for the "other" comes from the internal experience of seeing previous iterations of oneself as othered.

In 12-step, there is a saying that "it is weakness that brought us together," usually followed by a statement about the strength found in unity.  In the New Testament, "For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many mighty, nor many noble, are called: But God hatch chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty..." (1 Corinthians 1:26-27)

It has been my observation that errors in thought or behavior generally come from weakness, but the power to play them out in reality come from strength.  As a little demon or as a big demon, destructive only to oneself or to others, destruction is an expression of power.  It is strength that leaves one feeling entitled to destroy and having the ability to destroy; whether that destruction is for good or ill is another matter.

Breaking through strength, true change, generally seems to require two things 1) a profound, often shattering, experience in reality, (something equal in strength to that original toddler trauma) and 2) enough commitment to reality to obtain what one might call sanity.

It is truly possible to ignore almost any experience of reality.  An example: the parent who continues to punish their child in exactly the same way for a behavior that continues.  One more example:  A couple of years ago Hamid Karzai, the President of Afghanistan, was nearly killed when he ventured out into the community to attend the wedding of a relative.  As almost the only person who is sustainable as the leader of Afghanistan at this time, his death would be disaster to the wellbeing of the nation.  A report asked if, considering his importance, it was irresponsible of him to go out of the presidential residence.  His reply: "It's not dangerous."  Not a philosophical discussion of the dangers, of the possibility that it is important for him not to be a prisoner in his residence (a possible argument), but simply "It's not dangerous."  Denial of the reality that he had recently been inches away from death.

It is nearly impossible to voluntarily give up strength. And thus we honor those who do: Baba Amte, Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama and of course the God-concept displayed in the story of Jesus Christ.

As someone with a fundamentally existentialist outlook, my commitment is that individuals must survive off their strength.  The only thing that can regulate that, and allow for continued growth, is a radical commitment to reality.  Yet, as I become both stronger and less exposed to the possibility of shattering experiences (as an economically self-sufficient adult, in America, the danger of entitlement is extreme), even commitment to reality may not be enough to save me from myself.

Over the week I had several opportunities to observe destructive, entitled, strength.  A few of these situations requested my input, and I found that there was absolutely nothing to say.  I could not think of any philosophy, any novel, any work of art that could break through entitlement.

I am of course in the same boat in my entitlement, a horrifying fact.  The first thought tends to be that the othering of the self is what is fundamental to the experience of alienation.  Is it really?  There is an alienating othering of the self that is pathological.  I'll be writing about a version of it later this week as I discuss the "sweet girl."  But it is entitlement that creates alienation from humanity, from reality and, in that it disables the possibility of growth, from hope.