Even in early elementary school, I remember playing a bit of a game with people. Ironically (in hindsight), I just started acting. I became proficient with this performativity to the degree that I was relegated to drama camps almost every summer and performing in the Sear's Festival competitively for three consecutive years for my high school's team. I even starred in one of my high school musicals. I'll never forget the debrief after we performed a dress rehearsal of 'Tommy' for a couple classes from a local elementary school. After the show, one of the youngins' asked me whether I planned to pursue acting and performance art professionally. Even then, I knew that I was going to let them down by telling them the truth: that I had no intention of pursuing art professionally. That "I can't".
Succinctly and candidly, if the people conditioned as I've been conditioned could elect not to fight for the future, then it might not end well. Hence, if even one other contemporary demonstrated the same or a greater commitment to the Cause, I would have existentially less justification to embrace the militancy that I now practice religiously; (as noted elsewhere in this blog, this mentality has cost me several prospective romantic partners over the years). I know that my closest historical relatives were Jesuits, zealots, and monks. However, unlike their celestial condonations, my rationale is stubbornly grounded in empirically verifiable and reliable knowledge. I gushed about the potential value of rationalistic morality in undergrad and have unwittingly actualized it myself for almost a decade. Do I take pride in any of this? Of course not. Given the human species' relative impacts on the Earth and our relegation on the geologic time scale, we might as well be on the edge of oblivion. My uncompromising commitment to the future of humanity is about as necessary as breathing from my point of view; I have a job to do. Call it megalomania. I call it "Monday".
It's an incomparable passion. Most people whom I've encountered chase incentives; I am not motivated by self-interest, nor have I been since about grade 11. It's like I'm operating with a mathematical moral justification for everything I do. When I'm discouraged, all I need to do is remind myself of the existing math problem on the dorm wipe board. It's changed a bit over the years, but it's still essentially a math problem.
Nonetheless, I have definitely moderated my fervor a bit since early undergrad. The folks willing to sacrifice as I have, or more, for posterity are running out of places to hide, especially in the digital age—which gives me an ever greater responsibility to answer to the highest justice.
I'm responsible for teaching kids—which means all of the aforementioned are subject to "school-appropriate" scrutiny and filtering. Many of my recent students are of Christian denomination; frankly, my morality has a deeply Christian foundation despite my noted agnosticism. I was raised Christian; I was almost confirmed with the United Church before I pulled out of confirmation in the eleventh hour after securing the same unadulterated skepticism that I practice as I edit this blog post today. Teaching high school continuously for the last 9 years has grounded me in ways that may be incomparable to the groundedness of any other mechanism, intimate partnership included. When you've been responsible to as many families and children as I have, your self-scrutiny of the behavior that you're modeling for others can hit thresholds unlike those of any other profession, excepting public office.
—The world I'm fighting for is not a utopia; it could still be realized within most of our lifetimes. I have always intended for my research to contribute directly to this project by providing and refining curriculum for fostering predispositions toward non-violent conflict resolution—toward peace.
As always, I am ever critical of my own positionality; I'm no White Savior. I'm just a guy who cares.
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And that's the closest I'll get to an autobiography. To dabble in the aforementioned is to play with the fire that prompted me to publish a condemnation of pride in the first Facebook note that initiated this sequence of self-publications back in 2011. However, empathizing with our selves can be just as important, if not of even greater consequence, than indiscriminately empathizing with others.
In broaching the discussion of "discriminatory empathy", I figured it was important to begin with an attempt to empathize with my self. I've self-published about empathy several times previously, but I don't think I'll ever do its potential importance and consequence justice. Since, I tend to attribute it as the deciding variable among the exhaustive scourges of humanity. Empathic discrimination—that is, electing to empathize with some but not with others—can be attributed as a cause of all violence, depending on how one defines the "empathic" and the "violating".
That's a bold claim, but please hear me out. How does one justify the violation of an other? Classically, one often attempts to re-characterize the other as other-than or less-than one's self or one's tribe. In the associated literature, some scholars categorize this as infrahumanization. But, at essence, even infrahumanization can be traced to another preferential practice of empathy. Hence, dehumanization—or the treatment of an other as less-than or other-than human—can also be attributed as an unwillingness to exhaustively and indiscriminately empathize with others.
In every case that I've encountered, the violence enacted by an agent (including cases of absolute psychopathy) involved empathic discrimination: an agent's empathizing with some but not with others. Importantly, this conceptualization of indiscriminatory empathy includes empathizing with the self—i.e., the witnessing, recognition, and/or expression of one's own perspective and emotions. Metacognition is a form of empathy if the traditional definitions of cognitive empathy were assumed in this conceptualization. (If cognitive empathy refers to the re-cognition of the cognitions of others, then cognitively empathizing with oneself becomes what we usually label "metacognition".) Scholars of clinical psychotherapy had this figured out ages ago: the first step to empathizing with one's self is to recognize and to isolate from one's preconscious internal monologues.
Therefore, to reduce empathic discrimination is to reduce the probability of all violence. Indiscriminate empathizing is the key to final and sustainable peace.
No one will ever practice empathy perfectly indiscriminately, but some people definitely empathize less discriminately than others. Most people can't get past Socrates' first step.
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After watching Cloud Atlas the first time, but before reading around its development and production, I was convinced that this was the movie that the Wachowski sisters actually wanted to make when they directed The Matrix. The Wachowski sisters have played with the themes of existential transformation and the essentially humanizing throughout their careers. Cloud Atlas's plot(s) and characterizations engaged with these themes directly and exhaustively, which evidently undermined the film's success; it bombed in the box office, and most people I encounter haven't even heard of this epic.
I won't spoil the film anymore than I already have, but of its literary significances, I think it's valuable as an illustration of the timelessness of this problem: Empathic discrimination will continue to predicate violence unless we elect to cease and desist such discrimination, toward our selves and toward all Others. So long as people continue to empathize with some but not with others, violence is inevitable, regardless of political, ideological, or even moral allegiances.
That cliché (and its various iterations) of "change yourself in order to change your world" is ever prescient. If "the unexamined life is not worth living," then it's the parts of our beings that we elect not to examine that most define us. We cannot let our empathic discrimination define us.
We will never know ourselves completely, but that doesn't mean that we should stop trying.