Preliminary Thoughts on How a Person Chooses

From where do the criteria for choice come? The self, insofar as one is capable of knowing it. Does the self generate the criteria? No, not usually (although some syntheses are original for a given individual). Instead, one is made aware of criteria from some outside source (speech, text, etc.) and then assents to them (consciously or otherwise). It would be best, in order to increase authenticity, for a person to assent to the rules they use in choosing consciously. Then, through this process of reflective self-endorsement, the individual incorporates the criteria into himself. He says, "I recognize the validity of choosing thus, and so I will choose thus." Thereafter, whenever a specific criterion is operative, the action is authentic (i.e., owned by the person who performs it).

It is better for a person to grab hold of her life once the gift is given to her since she, by default, already holds it weakly (i.e., responsibility is already active).

The question for the living individual who wishes to take possession of her greatest gift is: to what or to whom ought I assent? Depersonalized propositions and personal proposals confront every individual. Some offer themselves directly as propositions to be believed. Others simply pose and it is up to the individual to offer it to herself. Together, they set the table of possible criteria of which the living individual is aware. A person consumes beliefs on the basis of the criteria she assents to. As one eats a salad with a salad fork, one consumes materialistic propositions with an empiricist's knife.

No sooner does one tuck in one's napkin under one's chin than does one run up to another problem. "How am I to choose how am I to choose?" The line of questioning continues ad infinitum. How can one stop it? Through passion.

A man looks at a smörgåsbord and some items make him salivate more than others. How does he get this taste for the salty or the sweet? From his desires. And his desires? From his past and what he's chosen to constitute as his past. "Ah, choice again? But how?" Here we meet with one of the reasons why people are ineffable: they do not know the sum of their contents and neither do their contemporaries.

Passion is a consequence of something unchosen and something chosen. The extent that events press upon us, arousing our emotions, is unchosen. We react beyond how we would have chosen to. The extent that we act upon our passions is chosen. Just as reflective self-endorsement makes the chosen more chosen by making it conscious and sober, self-knowledge makes the unchosen less so by creating an accurate system of expected reactions to events. We live more when we reflectively self-endorse more of what we believe and know who we are and why we believe as we do more.

On Habits

An existing individual is more likely to do something he has done before than something he has never done. The simple psychological fact is the mechanism of habit. A choice is easier to make when it has been made before. To make a single good choice has a multiplied benefit. Could there be any detriment done by habit?

A good woman does good actions without serious deliberation. She does them by second nature. What are we to think about such a lackadaisical handling of the good? Is it not more meritorious, as Kant observed, for a man of poor character to do something benevolent? In so doing, he fought against his own habits, pushed up the slope of his character, and to the surprise of his peers, overcame his deprivation.

(A funny thing about merit is that on Earth it is only of consequence when it is noticed by contemporaries. What is likely to be noticed by contemporaries of questionable character is more often that which surprises than that which is good. The contingency of public opinion is a reason to avoid incorporating it as a criterion.)

Given that habit can become less passionate and thereby less owned by the habit-holder, must it? Can one avoid it? Can one make the same choice over time and not make it less? If we were to watch a Muslim pray five times a day every day of his life since he reached religious maturity, what would we think of the quality of his prayers on his last day? There is no outward sign of an increase or decrease in devotion, so my judgment drawn from appearances alone would be empty conjecture. If you asked the man, "Do you love Allah more now or when you were twenty?" and the man responded, "I have always striven to love Allah as much as I can," would you believe him? Or, rather, knowing what you do about human psychology and our penchant for habit and habit's slant towards lifeless formalism, would you think him guilty of self-deception?

In a world where there is no chance for habit to be passionate, there is no chance for personal integrity.

A woman walks into her classroom early on the first day of the semester. All of the desks are options for her. She chooses the third one from the right in the second row because it was one of two left-handed desks and was nearest to the front. Everyone else fills in around her as the start of class draws near. The next class, she heads for the third desk from the right in the second row. She walks towards it and take her seat without hesitation.

What was a benefit of habit in the mundane realm (i.e., that it is something thoughtlessly chosen) is a hindrance in the lofty realm. When relating to objects of love, it would be despicable to do so thoughtlessly, without branding the moment with one's mark. To love God automatically is not to love God.

How can we persist in making the same choices without emaciating them in the lofty realm? How can a man pray the same prayer--consisting of words he did not write--without making it lifeless? Through concentration. Just as the woman scanning the room for the first time sees the empty desks as possibilities, so the man who prays in the awareness of what else he could be doing or saying--these individuals choose with vitality. Though it is not natural to sustain an awareness of the possible when the same situation has been considered before, it is not impossible. Through concentration, we ennoble the lofty realm saying, "I choose this and not that," despite this being chosen before. The person who knows he so chooses lives more. While nature tries to lull her asleep, she fights to stay awake.

Increase by Branding

Gifts begin by the giver; they are perpetuated by the recipient. Life is a gift; love is a gift; truth is a gift; the good is a gift; beauty is a gift. Gifts are a prompting to humility and gratitude because there is a giver that both has and shares what the recipient lack. One shows humility by declaring the previous privation. One shows gratitude by putting the gift to use.

I am born and thereby given the gift of my life. With all gifts, the recipient's appreciation is measured by how much she appropriates it. How does a person appropriate life? By living.

Is it possible for a person who is living to live more? Can life be increased beyond the basic amount supplied by normal bodily function? Often it is said during moments of intense sensation, "I feel so alive!" Does an increase of perception increase living? No, it only garners greater awareness of being alive. Life and consciousness are not the same thing, though the two are often found together. We want here to consider living specifically.

To be alive is a consequence of the body; to feel alive is a consequence of the mind; to live is a consequence of the will. In the existing individual, the three entities commingle and collaborate, but in thought each are distinguishable. To live is to act. Some actions are performed by the body, some by the mind, and some by the will. The act par excellence of the will is choosing. Does a person live more by choosing more?

If a man was placed before a palate, told to choose a color perpetually, and he chose only one color and adhered by his choice thereafter--did he choose less than a man who chose a different color constantly? No--they both always chose. The former man chose in integrate; the latter chose to dissipate.
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The greatest asset a person has is one's life. The greatest risk for a person is to squander one's life. Yet the conditions of life require one to toil and the circumstances of life require one to idle. A person is being drained through time.

Consider: We must sleep. We must eat. We must expend precious energy toiling and we must squander precious time in the tedium of life. We must relieve our bodies of what was once sustenance. How far from noble our lives can be! How it bucks our minds' aspirations!

"Yes, you may enjoy the scenic outlook--but sweat will seep through your pores and your body will ache."

"Yes, you may analyze the inputs of the world into pieces that will equip you for prediction--but you will yawn and your mind will wander."

"Yes, you may align yourself to the truth--but your nose will run and you will see ugliness."

"Yes, you may approach righteousness--but anger will rise up within you and your enthusiasm will wane."


We err when we disavow any truth, be they the truths of our limitations or our deep-seated yearnings. One wants greatness and is not great. What if a person was not complicit? What if a person persists in wanting? What if she accepted her finitude and yet railed against it? Here we find the appropriate response of a recipient: I know my life is tainted and draining, and still I fill myself up all the faster!

If one is depleted by the passing of time, how is one filled? By adding more time? No, that would only be more grist for the time-mill. Only by adding something timeless can one combat the loss of time. Time is a part of life, and so are the other gifts. Life is the bride between the mundane and the lofty. It begins in the circumsribed and ends--for those who believe--int the limitless. One moves along the bridge by opening the other gifts. Love is an act of opening. It requires exercise.

A person lives more by exercising her will more. In so doing, she takes greater responsibility for the aspects of her life within her control. Time and circumstance limit, but the will can replenish because it is in some ways unconditioned (i.e., to the extent that it is not predetermined). Every willful act is like an act of branding--the objects are defined by the owner. The brand remains definitive for the rest of the object's life. In a person's case, the object is her life, the brand is her character, and the owner is the whole person (i.e., the self). When we imagine ourselves ultimately judged, it is our lives and the marks we seared on them that will be admitted to the court. He who lives more--chooses more--is like the man who opts to represent himself. He refuses to leave his fate in the hands of a contemporary. He says, "It has been my life. Let me be the only one under consideration. Then the judge will know that it is I who throws himself at the mercy of the court, that I was not thrown!"

Does an increase in responsibility lead to greater guilt? Could not a man try to absolve himself by washing his hands of his life and say to the prosecution, "It was not my fault. If I did wrong, it was due to the instruction given by another person, other people even--authorities and officials!" Would this hold up in a court?

Every person, by her own free-will, is negligent. Every person, by the gift of her life from another, is innocent.

Authority

A man stands before you and commands, "March!" How responsible would you be if you did? How responsible would you be if you did not?

If you take a look at the man (notice his finely cropped hair, his polished boots, his badge) and you begin to march--how responsible are you? "I only marched because his authority overwhelmed me. Were he not an officer of the law, I would not have moved," you say. I respond, "Your defense is inadequate. You may have found his authority compelling, but you are still within the equation of responsibility. The officer (including the image he projected) plus you (including your recognition and assent to authority) equals the responsibility in the situation. Were he not there, you would not have moved--true enough. If you thought nothing of officers, if you neither feared nor respected the law, however, you would not have moved either."

Ceding freedom to authority does not happen without an act of concession, which leaves the conceder partially responsible. It does not follow from this that the weight or prestige of authority is completely fabricated by the person who concedes to it. More accurately, it is as though the officer says, "I m to be listened to," and the conceder responds, "I agree."

It is often held against a person who goes her own way by critical contemporaries that her actions are capricious. "She has no rule by which she acts; she only does whatever strikes her fancy at the time." - "Do you suggest that a person who on the contrary only acts on rules never does what strikes her fancy? If she acts, for instance, according to the rule, 'Always abide by the law and its officers' commands,' she does not act from her fancy (i.e., what she prefers)? I cannot agree--for a thing chosen is ultimately a thing most preferred. Since a person who submits to authority--to some extent--chooses to, that person's fancy is active. From your criticism, you imply that a person's fancy is always capricious. The person who acts on rules is also capricious."

If the criticism for a person who goes his own way also adheres to the rule-abider, how might the rule-abider more aptly criticize the independent person? Both sorts act on rules (to abide by fancy and to abide by authority) and both sorts are capricious (insofar as what they do is influenced by what they fancy). What precisely is the difference between them? The independent person gives the greatest credence to her own passions and convictions; the dependent person gives the greatest credence to an outside source. Though both invest themselves into positions they bare responsibility for, they invest in different positions.

The independent person says of himself, "I am honest. I know that what I think and do is at bottom a consequence of what I most recently have thought is true and good. I recognize that I am free to accept or reject my own predilections. I think the only consistent thing to do is to accept them, since rejecting them is still done on the grounds of a predilection--that what I most recently have thought is true and good is actually false and bad."

The dependent person says of himself, "I am correct. I know that my private predilections are given to error, so I reject them in favor of more impersonal decision-makers. I accept authority because it is greater than I am, has a larger wealth of input and understanding. I recognize that a person can never upon reflection know objectively whether they are thinking correctly and doing rightly with certainty, so I defer to an outside party for objectivity."

The independent person emphasizes subjectivity; the dependent person emphasizes objectivity. The rule-abider may aptly criticize the independent person for solipsism. The independent person may retort with a charge of bad faith (a conscious disavowal of freedom where freedom persists) against the dependent person.

The independent person faces a problem of epistemology. The dependent person faces a problem of ethics. The independent person believes as she does on circular grounds; she believes she is right because she believes she is right. The dependent person operates on a faulty notion of her beliefs, for she acts as though she is not free and thereby not responsibly when she is both (if only partially).

When one retains autonomy, one retains the risk of faulty self-determination. When one concedes to heteronomy, one retains responsibility for the concession with the risk of thinking it too was handed over. When faced with the dichotomy between autonomy and heteronomy, what will the existing individual do? Those who seek the truth will choose the former; those who avoid error will choose the latter.

Is it possible that the existing individual may choose one in one circumstance, and the other in another? Yes. How are the circumstances different if they prompt different choices from the same individual? Rules cover different areas of conduct. The passion the individual feels about the area of conduct influences the individual's choice. For some, an area of scant personal relevance and importance is an area that most warrants heteronomy. To them, the feeling of apathy makes the discharge of responsibility permissible. "I don't care. You decide." For others, an area of immense personal relevance and importance is an area that most warrants heteronomy. To them, the feeling of gravity makes the discharge of responsibility permissible. "I care too much. You decide."

Should a person be consistently one or the other or should a person be both, though in different areas? In economics, it is commonly advisable for the sake of mitigating risk to diversify one's portfolio. In politics, it is commonly advisable for the sake of reputation to toe the party line. The former has the benefit of safety for the investor; the latter has the benefit of predictability for the politician. Does a person want to benefit privately (by self-reflective standards of benefit) or publicly (by other-reflective standards of benefit)? A person esteems inconsistency because it is not constricting upon them. People esteem consistency because it is readily understandable and therefor manageable.

By marching, one accepts partial responsibility for the path taken and the destination arrived at, since one participates in both. By not marching, one accepts consequences from the authority for not recognizing him. March and you may be led off a cliff by your own feet; stay still and you may be shot for insubordination by an authority you do not recognize. Marching is a dangerous movement if the destination is still; stillness is a precarious position if the setting is in motion.