I’m reading through the comments left below old posts while we were away. Below my post on the older man/younger woman dynamic in “Juno“, my old friend Bill asks for more compassion for men — like the fellow played by Jason Bateman in the film — who struggle to accept their ageing:
I wish you wrote about men who have had trouble growing up with a little more empathy, particularly those, like Mark, who had dreams with expiration dates and who did not see them come true and now must figure out where to go from there. I think you actually feel such empathy but it doesn’t come through here.
It might be helpful to read the original post for context. In Juno, the character of Mark is apparently in his late thirties. He and his wife are unable to conceive naturally, and are eager (or his wife is eager) to adopt. But as the audience discovers, Mark still has dreams of success as a musician. He bonds inappropriately with Juno, and it becomes clear as the picture progresses that that bond is less sexual than emotionally chronological. Her interests (comic books, music, horror movies) are his; his wife’s interests (domesticity, children, middle-class stability) are not.
(This doesn’t mean that an interest in comic books is inappropriate for older people. I know many fine folks over 40 who have seemingly adolescent hobbies. There’s nothing wrong with still going to punk shows or comic book conventions when you’re old enough to remember the Nixon Administration. Maturity is not about one’s interests; maturity is about the understanding that like it or not, ageing means the acceptance of certain responsibilities: financial, emotional, professional, and so forth. And, of course, as in the oft-quoted Donald Justice poem, it means “closing softly the doors to rooms (you) won’t be coming back to.”)
But to get to Bill’s point: I’m sympathetic, but not terribly empathetic, with men whose dreams turned out to have “expiration dates.” Part of that is that I am fortunate to be doing at 40 more or less what, at 20, I expected to be doing at this age. I was studying to be a history professor when I was a teenager, and by the time I was 26, I had a tenure-track job. I’ll admit, I was lucky. Getting the job I wanted wasn’t solely due to luck (I’d like to think talent had something to do with it).
My blessings were two-fold:
1. Though I occasionally considered other avenues (from a career as a Naval officer to a Dominican priest), I was fairly certain from the time I was in junior high school that I wanted to be a history teacher. I had the gift of clarity about the direction in which my professional life was to go, and I had that gift early.
2. My desires and my talents were congruent. I have no musical ability; I can’t hit a baseball easily. And as it turns out, I never dreamed of being a rock star or center fielder for the Giants. I planned to teach at the college level, following in my parents’ footsteps. As it happened, what I wanted and what I turned out to be good at were the same thing. I acknowledge this is not always so for everyone.
I’m surrounded by friends, like Bill, who are about my same age — and whose dreams have not panned out in quite the same way. I live in greater Los Angeles, after all; I know tons of folks who came to Southern California in their teens and twenties chasing dreams of stardom. I know one or two people who’ve made it big, but I know a lot more who struggled for years and years and either finally gave up or who are still trying to keep their heads above water. You can live on hope for a long time in this town. Through dear friends, I know a lot about dreams with expiration dates.
We’re entitled to pursue our dreams, up to a point. What made me so angry with, and utterly unsympathetic to the Jason Bateman character, was not that he still wanted to be a rock star. What aroused my exasperation was his unwillingness (don’t confuse it with inability) to be honest about it. “Mark” leaves his wife when they are on the verge of adopting a child, hitting her with a bombshell. It’s evident to the viewers that Mark is ambivalent about becoming his father, and it’s equally obvious that he’s made a classic mistake I see many men make: Mark has substituted his wife’s certainty for his own.
Look, if you want to chase your rock and roll dreams, go for it. But do it boldly, wholeheartedly, and unreservedly. And that probably means foregoing middle-class domesticity. At the least, it means being honest with lovers and potential spouses about one’s own priorities at the start. That means before getting married. We’re all entitled to change our minds, of course. But if, in the course of changing our minds, we renege on promises we’ve made, we’re not entitled to one ounce of sympathy. We’re not entitled to understanding, or support, and we sure as hell are not entitled to ask others not to be furious and disappointed.
Bill, I am sympathetic to those who wanted something very badly and didn’t get it. I’m sure it’s very painful to have a dream die. But I’m not sympathetic to those who, like Mark, resent their partner for asking them to move on and grow up. We don’t get to eat our cake and have it to. And to be more specific about my anger at him, let me be clear that Mark’s sin lies less in his immaturity than in his own lack of self-awareness. It’s only when he’s on the verge of becoming a Dad, only when he realizes he has more in common with a teenage girl than with his adult wife, that he realizes he wants something else. He owed it to everyone in his life to have that epiphany much earlier.
We live in a culture which encourages prolonged adolescence, particularly for men. And one of the hallmarks of that perpetual teenager-dom, that Peter Pan syndrome, is an ambivalence about enduring commitment. Another hallmark is a lack of self-awareness. I’ve known men like Mark (and was, once, a bit like him). Sometimes lads like Mark end up marrying or living with women who possess a tremendous amount of certainty. Guys like this allow their partners’ certainty to substitute for their own, hoping that if they just “go along”, that certainty will begin to manifest inside themselves. Mark didn’t want a baby, but he allowed his wife’s desire to become his own — until he finally admitted to himself, to Juno, and his spouse that he wanted something completely different. Because he waited so long to be honest, anger trumps sympathy and exasperation trumps empathy.
That kind of emotional obtuseness does great harm, and it deserves little sympathy. Mind you, it’s not a handicap, and it’s not part and parcel of the male condition. It’s partly a consequence of a culture that doesn’t allow men to develop deep self-understanding. But it’s also partly a choice. In the end, the difference between adolescents and adults is that the former are victims — and the latter are volunteers. To not know what you want at 17 is understandable; to not know what you want at 37 is less so.
And misleading a spouse about what you really want because you yourself aren’t sure is a recipe for mutual misery.
I feel like I watched a different movie than you. Vanessa is the only one who brings up this “rock star” stuff. I got the impression that Mark didn’t want a kid, and that Vanessa didn’t put value in Mark’s music. They were a bad match, and they both were flawed in very realistic ways.
His reluctance in the movie was obvious. Only someone blinded by their need for a child would fail to realize it.
I think that the blame in the movie was more evenly distributed between the two members of the marriage, and rightfully so.
Mark was a bit of a weak-willed cad, but Vanessa clearly wasn’t listening either.
His reluctance needed to be verbalized, PTS. I’m not absolving Vanessa of all blame here, of course — but she was clear about what she wanted, and she didn’t pretend to herself or to her spouse differently. Mark did, and that’s a distinction that places the lion’s share of responsibility on him.
Sure Hugo, but it’s obvious that you empathize more with Vanessa than Mark. For instance, you say “Mark still has dreams of success as a musician.”. Uh, Mark _already_ has success as a musician. His music pays for their life style. But Vanessa clearly has no time for it. She is exasperated that he and Juno bond over his Les Paul, and makes the “rock star” comment at the end. Doesn’t seem to have a problem living in the nice house paid for by his commercial composing, though.
Plunky, I empathize with those who are clear about what it is that they want and honest about it.
Mark is indeed successful, but Vanessa is hardly sitting at home; she’s working as well. And if I were Vanessa, I’d be exasperated that my husband walked out of an important meeting to bond with a teenager, leaving me to handle the paperwork.
I only saw the movie once…but I don’t remember it being clear if Vanessa works or not, let alone what it is that she does.
Among Hollywood’s many sins is how it romanticizes the inability to articulate your priorities until the last minute - as in the glut of “left at the altar” romantic comedies where we’re supposed to think it’s sweet that the man jilts his controlling, grown-up fiancee in favor of some madcap girlfriend (e.g. “Arthur”, “A Guy Thing”, “Four Weddings and a Funeral”). By contrast, apropos of your post title, I thought the recent remake of “Peter Pan” was great because it shows Wendy learning to appreciate her “boring” responsible dad more than immature, selfish Peter or dishonestly romantic Hook. (Okay, so I spend too much time watching movies on planes…)
I only saw the movie once, but it was clear to me that Vanessa had a job outside the home; one of the times Juno came to visit and Vanessa wasn’t there it was because she was putting in all the overtime she could before the baby came. In fact, I can’t say why now because it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen the movie, but it was my impression that Vanessa was the primary breadwinner. Jingle writing isn’t exactly steady work.
In the post you said if, in the course of changing our minds, we renege on promises we’ve made, we’re not entitled to one ounce of sympathy.
I’m not sure which promises you’re thinking of here. Three and four sentences before the quoted sentence, you were talking about marriage, so maybe the promises you have in mind are wedding vows. But then getting divorced under pretty much any circumstances will be reneging on the promises that one made on one’s wedding day. So then if, in the course of changing our minds, we get divorced, we’re not entitled to one ounce of sympathy.
Not only does that not sound right, it’s wildly at odds with what you’ve said on divorce elsewhere.
Maybe breaking one’s promises isn’t really where the problem lies. Responding to PTS in the comments, you write I’m not absolving Vanessa of all blame here, of course — but she was clear about what she wanted, and she didn’t pretend to herself or to her spouse differently. Mark did, and that’s a distinction that places the lion’s share of responsibility on him. No real connection with breaking or keeping promises here! You’re just talking about authenticity — the idea that we should be true to ourselves in the way we live our lives. Mark is inauthentic, living a suburban life that’s at odds with who he really is, while Vanessa is authentic, living a suburban life that’s true to who she really is.
But now a new problem crops up. If you’re chastising characters for being inauthentic and praising them for being authentic, then you have to praise Mark’s decision to leave his inauthentic life in the suburbs for the authentic life of struggling musician. But you don’t seem to want to say that — you chastise Mark both before and after his decision to leave Vanessa.
Mark may have done the right thing by leaving Vanessa, but he ought to have done so earlier. Authenticity is a vital value, absolutely, and divorce is indeed frequently a good thing. But Mark’s “authenticity” seems closely connected to a refusal to accept his ageing, and while it’s better that he leave now rather than later, better still would be to grow the heck up.
I think it’s consistent to praise the decision to leave while bemoaning the reasons behind it.
Hugo, your comments here point up the two central problems in judgmental thinking: egotism and illusion. When you write:
you make it clear that a fair bit of the judgments we make all the time consist of demanding of other people that they do what we do. Also, frankly, it seems to me that your assessment of the reason for your success stresses “talent”, and leaves out such things as privilege. When we make ethical judgments, I recommend a conscious effort to discard egotism; to say, as C. S. Lewis did in the foreword to Mere Christianity, that we do not presume to judge people subject to conditions and problems we do not share.But judgment also blinds. The effort we expend on judging takes attention away from seeing clearly. Judgment imposes a framework on the world, and we distort our perceptions to fit that framework. In doing so, we miss crucial information. The biblical injunction to forgive, love, serve, and to leave the judgments to the One truly fitted to judge with righteousness makes a lot of sense to me.
I also see it as a more evenly distributed problem. As others said, it was so obvious this wasn’t Mark’s idea. And any comment he made that was authentic to his sense of self was met with a glare from Vanessa. The fact that Vanessa takes it so well and barely seems surprised when he opts to leave suggests that she was aware of some manipulation on her part to get the fairy-tale life of her dreams - and on some level she seemed aware it wouldn’t go entirely as planned. He husband leaving wasn’t an issue once she got the baby she wanted. She also didn’t have a commitment to the partnership.
I’m not convinced we can choose when to have epiphanies about our lives. He did make the grown up move of making his intentions clear before the baby came at least. Sometime it takes, not an inappropriate relationship, but an impending change in life to finally determine whether or not it’s the right path to be on.
I think the question is, on a sub-conscious level, did Mark get that apartment uptown to be with Juno, or to get away from the baby that was about to take over the house?
Just my two cents.
John, it seems a bit juvenile, but I feel like I have to point out that `judgment also blinds’ is, itself, a judgement, as are `the judgments we make all the time consist of demanding of other people that they do what we do’, `Judgment imposes a framework on the world’, `we distort our perceptions to fit that framework’, and `In doing so, we miss crucial information’. If you meant to condemn just normative judgements (`You ought to …’), then I’d point to `I recommend a conscious effort to discard egotism’. Is it not the case that you yourself are presuming to judge Hugo — a person subject to conditions and problems that you do not share?
No, Noumena, I presume to criticize his ideas. Hugo has expressed a judgment about a class of men, using these words:
In an earlier post, he writes of a desire to punch the “Jason Bateman character”. I have empathy with Hugo and affirm him as a basically good person, but his idea that he (and by extension the rest of us) can judge people has major flaws, two of which I point out, I hope clearly.
A significant difference exists between assessing ideas, which drives the conversation forward, and judging other people, which I try to avoid on several grounds.
Hmmm….interesting. I tend to see Hugo as having formed an opinion and then expressing it, rather than judging. In fact, when I read his piece I felt he was expressing an opinion about a class of men, whom he felt a lack of sympathy towards, given their behavior, rather than he was expressing a judgment. Whenever I hear someone admonishing another not to judge, (it always tends to sound like they are admonishing) it comes across as belittling and condescending, and it also strongly conveys that they are the one that is doing all the judging.
I don’t understand all this anxiety about being judgemental about Mark’s unwillingness to grow up and take on adult responsibilities. When I begin looking for a husband, I will judge the men that I’m potentially interested in based on whether or not they have a good work ethic, share similar values with me, and if they are ready to make adult commitments. Mark was obviously not ready to grow up. Vanessa probably should have seen those signs earlier, so she is partly to blame. Hugo is critical of a culture that permits people - and in Juno’s case, men - to put off growing up. I see nothing wrong with pointing that fact out and examining it. If that makes me judgemental, so be it.
When you call some class of persons unworthy of your sympathy, or fantasize about acting violently towards them, I’d call that judgmental. I don’t lack sympathy, or empathy for Hugo, and I don’t think of him as a bad person, and I certainly don’t have any impulse to assault him, or to assault anyone who thinks like him. I disagree with his specific approach to this specific issue.
Hugo is critical of a culture that permits people - and in Juno’s case, men - to put off growing up.
Or, more specifically, that suggests “growing up” is something that can be pushed off onto one’s wife or partner.
Mythago, I don’t see much social or cultural criticism in what Hugo has said so far on this topic. Expressions of exasperation, claims to have “no sympathy”, and an expressed desire to punch someone in the mouth do not strike me as the basis for a coherent social critique. They simply strike me as judgmental.
I have spent a great deal of time with people acutely aware that the conventional form of “growing up” promoted by our society means assuming a lifestyle of large scale consumption. Leaving aside (for the moment) the evidence that the environment will not sustain this consumption, consider the fate of a young man who “grew up”, and bought into the conventional version of male adulthood, with a house in Stockton CA. Many of those men now find themselves burdened with huge debts and houses worth a fraction of what they still owe on them. Do you really want to tell me that these young men, or their spouses, have done better than the men who spent their time in shared houses or their parent’s basements, playing “Halo” or tinkering with Linux?
As for “pushing off” growing up onto one’s partner, that notion too has huge problems. If one spouse chooses to fully engage with the dominant culture and the other resists, I see no basis for arguing that the spouse who resists has “pushed off” maturity onto the one who wants to engage. As with all things, spouses (or partners) have to negotiate these choices. In some cases, one partner may find it impossible to live with the other one’s choice. In that case, I still see no basis for blaming one or the other partner for the conflict.
In the end, we live in a society where the notion of “growing up” involves so many contradictions that I do not see any basis for judging anyone on their choices. It makes no more sense to scream with exasperation at Jason Bateman’s character about his obligation to “grow up” than it does to scream at Jennifer Garner’s character that the Earth’s environment cannot sustain the “nest” she constructs, and her “nest”, and most of what she provides for the baby, comes at the expense, environmental and economic, of thousands of other mothers.
John, threatening a punch in the mouth isn’t clever discourse, but neither is posing a false dilemma.
It’s not a choice between the grindstone and the Xbox. Maturity isn’t about what you do in your spare time, or what hobbies you enjoy; it’s whether you are able and willing to accept responsibility. A man who doesn’t want to marry is very different from one who does marry, but balks at marriage meaning anything other than a consistent sexual partner and having somebody else worry about what’s for dinner.
You carefully frame your discourse to idolize “I sit around in my parents’ basement and play Crysis” as a mature, thoughtful rejection of the oppressive, Earth-hating cultural paradigm. Why?
Under current conditions, the notion that one person can judge what “accepting responsibility” in the abstract for another simply does not hold water. I honour those people who simply abandon the dominant culture based on a strong political analysis. I also honour those who feel it their responsibility to participate in, even defend that culture. I mourn for the young men and women who followed the dream of buying a house and raising a family, only to find their dream shattered by dishonest mortgage brokers and negligent bankers. Every person has to find their own path to maturity, and while I have my own perspective, and my own recommendations, I do not judge.
Please quote the exact “frame” where I “idolize” any course of action. I said, and I say, and I have said all along, not that one set of people made a “better” or a “worse” choice than any other, but that we cannot, in any meaningful sense, judge them. I said only this about sitting around playing “Halo” or working to improve Linux: that those who did so for the past few years have probably made out as well in a material sense as those who bought what we can now see as overpriced houses in neighbourhoods where foreclosures have driven property values down. Given that the choices our society promotes as “responsible” have had disastrous results for so many people, I think it makes sense to step back and acknowledge that we cannot (again, that word I continue to emphasize) judge.
Nor do I see where I have framed the middle class lifestyle and the xbox in the parents’ basement as the only alternatives. To the contrary, I know, and work with, large numbers of people who spend their lives, in a greater or lesser degree, in passionate work on behalf of a just society. They have few possessions and live in shared dwellings (often in religious community) and they work and contribute a great deal. We all have our ideals; I just try not to judge those who come from a different place and take a different path. I don’t claim that the young man playing “Halo” on someone’s couch has a cogent and effective analysis of the dominant culture and his reasons for not participating; I do say that, in the abstract, neither you, nor I, nor Hugo can say that he doesn’t.
Every person has to find their own path to maturity, and while I have my own perspective, and my own recommendations, I do not judge.
Again, you present a false dichotomy. The world is not divided into Xbox players who write Linux vs. foreclosed-upon homeowners. Claiming that Hugo is saying “anybody who plays Xbox is a loser” is disingenous.
Your use of the word “dichotomy” suggests I have offered two and only two choices. Please identify the exact two choices I presented to the exclusion of all others. So far, by my count, I have presented at least four alternative paths to what we call “maturity”, and I have always said, simply, that we cannot judge the path that other people take, as long as they do not directly harm others. If you think I have said that the only possible choices involve playing Xbox or joining a middle class “professional” career path, please read what I wrote again.
Once more, I never said that. However, I will say this: that Hugo’s arguments seem to me to privilege one type of commitment at the expense of others. Consider this:
Now, I don’t know exactly what “financial, emotional or professional” responsibilities Hugo has in mind here. But note, as he puts it here, this set of “responsibilities” comes not with particular choices, but with age. In other words, whether Hugo really means this or not (and I would welcome his clarification here) what he has written suggests that people of a certain age should generally take on certain tasks.
To understand why I disagree, consider something Hugo and I (to judge from his other writing) would probably agree on: a young man, turning 18 in time of war, does not have an obligation to enlist in the military. While I respect young men and women who feel that obligation and act on it, and I have my share of friends who did enlist in the military, I claim they cannot apply that sense of obligation to anyone else.
I base this claim on two arguments: first, nobody can see the future clearly enough to know what part another person ought to play in it, and two, nobody can see into another person’s head and know why that person made a particular decision. But those principles apply to just about every life choice that does not directly harm another person. If we eighteen year olds do not have an automatic obligation to fight for our country, and if the arguments that say they do not also apply to other life choices, then the same rules must apply to all life choices (mathematicians call this reasoning induction).
Oops… correction.
For
read
I turned eighteen at the end of the Nixon administration, and no, that reflects an editing error, not wishful thinking.
I think the argument is not that people of a certain age should take on certain tasks, but that people of a certain age should have the self-awareness to understand how their choices affect other people - other people that they supposedly care about. Responsibility is not necessarily the house/mortgage/marriage, it is understanding how your actions affect others, and acting responsibly and honestly so as not to harm people who you supposedly care about.
For example, the man playing x-box in his parents’ basement is immature and unsympathetic if he is draining resources from his parents without contributing to the household. However, if he is contributing to the household, or perhaps caring for his parents as they advance in age, then he’s not necessarily immature for not having his own house/wife/family, etc. The issue is whether he is privileging his dream/desire/happiness at the expense of people who he supposedly loves. That’s immature.
There is certainly a line, which is not always clearly demarcated, between being true to yourself/standing up for yourself and being selfish. Hugo’s criticism seems to be that Bateman’s character is on the selfish side of the line. Mostly because he seems to have led his wife on, acting like he wanted what she wanted, until the last minute when he balks, making it that much harder for her to get what she does want, which she has been clear about from the beginning.
You can say she should have known, but wanting to believe that your partner actually wants what he says he wants, because it matches what you want, is not the same as saying you want something you don’t and then pulling the rug out from under your partner just as she is about to get what she wants (and what you said you wanted). The film clearly suggests that he’s been lying to his wife, telling her he wants that suburban life + child. (For example, the fact that he, not she, put the ad in the magazine that Juno found it in).
Your use of the word “dichotomy” suggests I have offered two and only two choices.
John, you discussed people you knew who had done the ‘conventional’ path and then asked “Do you really want to tell me that these young men, or their spouses, have done better than the men who spent their time in shared houses or their parent’s basements, playing “Halo” or tinkering with Linux?” That’s a false dichotomy.
I agree with you that setting ’something you must do by age X’ is silly. What I am saying is that there’s a difference between a forty-year-old man who plays Xbox games because he likes them, and a man who plays Xbox games because it helps him feel like he’s not forty.
Emily:
Fair enough, but that assumes we agree on the factual context. For example, someone who sees the war on terror as an existential struggle might say that young men (and women) have an obligation to go into the military, and that if a person goes off to college instead of enlisting, that means someone else will have to do the fighting and the dying for them. Certain types of environmental activist will tell you that any involvement in the culture of consumption does unacceptable harm. Still others will tell you that we all have an obligation to make ourselves into self-supporting, conventionally productive individuals.
We live in a society with a huge variety of strongly held perspectives, which justify a very large number of life paths. Our choices thus include mutual judgment, or mutual respect. I think, from my own observations, that it makes much more sense to choose respect than to choose judgment.
Mythago:
First of all, I didn’t exactly restrict my example to two courses of action, since playing Xbox and improving Linux involve quite different levels of contribution to the general welfare. But in any case, I used a set of examples to prove a point about the economic environment. I never said that everyone had to choose between these three alternatives; I said that we can’t guarantee (on any level) that conventional ideas of “maturity” and “responsibility” will work out for people, at any level. I’d call that an example, designed to prove a point, not a dichotomy. Would you like to address my points? I still claim that (a) our society has no consensus on what “maturity” means for young men (or women); and (b) that we cannot offer any guarantee that any given path to maturity, and definition of adulthood, will work for anyone, and (c) we have no way to know why anyone chooses a particular path, and therefore (d) I regard judging the way people live their lives, and the choices they (we) make, as futile and inappropriate.
As for your XBOX at forty comment: I honestly can’t think of anyone who really “feels” a particular way at a particular age, and I can’t imagine any moral argument that a man who change the way he feels should not do so. Nor can I imagine any way you could ever make the associated judgment relevant.
But in any case, I used a set of examples to prove a point about the economic environment.
John: you asked me a rhetorical question by posing a false dichotomy. Your tap-dance is getting tiresome.
As for your points, I agree that our culture does not have a firm consensus on ‘maturity’, though there does seem to be a general notion that things like being financially self-supporting, marriage and parenthood are signs of maturity (whether they actually *are* is obviously another question). And while I agree we don’t know the totality of people’s lives and can’t read minds, it’s a mistake to assume as an absolute that we can never judge anyone’s behavior because we don’t know their inner lives.
False dichotomy — my definitions obviously don’t match yours.
Fair enough, provided that a general consensus (rather than a general notion) exists. We rightly condemn most of the actions forbidden by criminal laws, for example, without reference to anyone’s “inner life”, and rightly so. But when we have no consensus, when a solid argument exists in favour of the choice at issue (for example, refusing to participate in the dominant culture), then it makes sense not to judge, not to condemn. To quote your previous post:
I think that when you have to say that it matters why people do things, you have effectively conceded that we just do not have the information to make a meaningful judgment.
I’ve said before that I consider a judgmental outlook gets in the way of clearly seeing problems and bringing people together to imagine and create solutions. It seems to me that judgment only makes sense in the context of a general consensus regarding minimum standards. Absent such a consensus, I regard judgments as an irrelevant diversion from important work.
“Maturity is not about one’s interests; maturity is about the understanding that like it or not, ageing means the acceptance of certain responsibilities: financial, emotional, professional, and so forth. And, of course, as in the oft-quoted Donald Justice poem, it means ‘closing softly the doors to rooms (you) won’t be coming back to.’”
What if you’ve never been in those rooms in the first place? Do you see why some might be reluctant to let those doors close?
I prefer Dylan Thomas:
By all means, softly close doors to rooms you will not come back to, or even to rooms you will never enter. You do not even have to respect the fact that I will make different choices. But I ask you: what do you, or anyone, gain from judging other people’s choices? Judgment distorts your perception, it gets between you and other people, and I fail to see what good you think it does.
Dylan Thomas was a marvelous poet, and an immensely difficult human being.
We live in a community, and in that community we do many things: we love each other, we support each other, and we call each other to account when needed. And of course, those being called to account are free to disregard the advice or judgment thrown their way.
Hugo, the choices we make, particularly about judgment, shape our communities and determine their effectiveness. In my experience, judgment strengthens a community when it serves a general moral consensus. Making judgments on matters you wish people agreed about divides, rather than uniting, the community. And I observe that a general agreement on the “right” life path for men (or women) simply does nt exist in your society or in mine.
John, the more I read your comments on this post and others, it becomes clear that you and I live in two such radically different societies (or, perhaps more accurately, view the societies in which we live so differently) that we are utterly incapable of coming to anything remotely resembling consensus. Hugo-land and John-land are as different as Toronto and Timbuktu; Mission Viejo and Mumbai.
Hugo, assuming the societies in which we live really differ so much, does the ability of two people to see the world so differently not militate strongly against judgment?
But I would like to ask you specifically where we differ. Do you
(a) consider it worthwhile to judge people who disagree with you?
If so, do you really think that judging people will convince them?
(b) think a consensus on the “right” life path for men or women exists?
If so, how widely do you think people hold it?
John Spragge says
“When you call some class of persons unworthy of your sympathy, or fantasize about acting violently towards them, I’d call that judgmental. I don’t lack sympathy, or empathy for Hugo, and I don’t think of him as a bad person, and I certainly don’t have any impulse to assault him, or to assault anyone who thinks like him. I disagree with his specific approach to this specific issue.”
This sounds like a yes, but…..Also I’m curious, if you disagree with his specific approach to this specific issue then why not just say that. That would be direct and clear. And then follow up your criticism with why you lack disagreement, or do you know exactly why you disagree. I don’t get the rest of your argumentative approach here other than to judge and criticize Hugo yourself and that is how it sounds. It’s obvious there’s far more to what you are saying here than what meets the eye, otherwise you would not persist. What is it that you are trying to accomplish. Does Hugo’s writings just yank your chain? Did he piss you off, or is there another emotional reason why you are reacting to his writing as you are?
As for the movie and what you state above, only people who behave like the character in Juno would have sympathy for him. Others who recognize behavior in themselves which was similar to the character may have little sympathy, especially if they recognize or feel that the behaviors in question demonstrated a lack of empathy towards others–being selfish, destructive and harmful. What problem do you have with that? As for your comment about Hugo fantasizing about acting violently towards the character….I don’t think he does. It’s more a figure of speech–a strong one. I’ve heard many people express similar sentiments, especially when they are exasperated by the childish behaviors of others. And these people don’t strike out at others, nor do they generally advocate violence. It’s more giving voice to their strong feelings. I think most people would recognize this. If he talked about a specific person all the time stating that he wanted to smack him, then it would signal a red flag. I’ve read enough of his writings to glean that he doesn’t act violently towards others and doesn’t advocate it. I think you get this too, so I’m curious what exactly is your point here and what are you trying to accomplish?
John, I think holding people accountable — “judging” them — is often an effective way of combatting a host of ills, from reckless addictiveness to racism. The nation “judged” white southerners in the 1960s, and the south changed. My family and friends judged my drinking and recklessness, and I changed. Now admittedly, ya gotta love the people you’re judging — because until they know that, they may not change (MLK says something like that). But if we don’t call each other to account, disaster happens.
Karen:
My objection to judging, aside from Matthew 7.1 and Luke 6.37, stems from my perception that fostering judgmental attitudes breaks up coalitions, obscures clear observation of problems, clear thought about problems, and hinders the search for workable solutions. In short, I consider judging a bad thing to promote for people on the Left. I don’t have to engage in the behavior complained of to find the judgment inappropriate.
Hugo:
I think your point confuses stating a fact, setting a standard, and judging a person. The civil rights movement stated a fact: African Americans have the same inherent worth and dignity as other people. That set a standard for the way other people, and the government, should treat African Americans. And, slowly and painfully, Americans in the South and the North brought their behaviour into line with that standard. But as someone who has done a fair bit of work in solidarity with oppressed people, judgment, in the sense of declaring individuals and groups of people unworthy of sympathy, had nothing to do with it. Indeed, I have done my share of watching people doing anti-oppression work struggling to convince people that condemning an unjust system did not mean judging people who grew up in that system. People’s perceptions of judgment, in these cases, acted as an obstacle to justice.
And while I agree that if we don’t encourage one another to do our best, disaster awaits us, disaster waits the unwary judge as well. In both our countries, newcomers judged the first nations cultures they encountered, and those judgments led to disasters and deep shame. And in many situations, these judgments, and the shame, continue to go on. Judging wrongly can lead to as much trouble as not judging. So let me ask you again, in this specific instance: by what standard do you determine the “correct” life path for young men (or women)?
John Spragge says
“My objection to judging, aside from Matthew 7.1 and Luke 6.37, stems from my perception that fostering judgmental attitudes breaks up coalitions, obscures clear observation of problems, clear thought about problems, and hinders the search for workable solutions. In short, I consider judging a bad thing to promote for people on the Left. I don’t have to engage in the behavior complained of to find the judgment inappropriate.”
So then to tie this into the movie Juno and Jason Bateman’s character, who Hugo objected too, then what are your “clear thoughts” and what do you see as a “workable solution”?
As far as judging goes, yes, those two verses are the most quoted and misquoted, depending on one’s agenda. In fact, I’d say Matthew 7:1 wins the popular vote for those manipulative individuals trying to shirk all personal responsibility for destructive behaviors. It also comes in handy for silencing the voices of their “targets”. Yet they are not the only verses on the subject and here’s a small sampling to name a few:
Psa 37:30, Psa 119:13, Prov 31:9, Luke 7:43, Ezek 22:2, 1 Cor 2:15, 1 Cor 6:2 and 1 Cor 6:3.
Karen:
Well, clear thinking tells me that the “workable solution” to the behaviour of fictional character simply involves remembering that when you look at that scene between “Mark” and “Juno”, you really see two adult professionals, one of them wearing a pillow, following a written script in front of a camera. Any search for “workable solutions” in the context of someone’s reaction to a work of fiction has built-in limits. Do people like “Mark” exist? Probably. Would his actions play out in real life the way they do in the film? Based on my knowledge of the realities of adoption, probably not. Does it therefore make any sense to judge a whole category of people based on our reaction to a fictional character? I don’t believe so.
I believe this discussion has relevance because it raises the question of when (if ever) it makes sense for us to judge other people, and on what basis we may (or may not) do so. I believe it makes to strongly encourage individual people not to behave in selfish and destructive behaviour (which, let us note, includes behaviour stereotypically associated with “growing up” in our consumer culture). However, I do not believe it makes any sense at all to judge a whole category of people as behaving “badly” when no consensus exists of what “good” behaviour in this connection might entail.
Any search for “workable solutions” in the context of someone’s reaction to a work of fiction has built-in limits.
So, is it wrong to be judgmental of the fictional character? Or is it fine to judge “Mark,” but you’re concerned that Hugo may be extending the judgment to other people in the real world who don’t actually resemble Mark?
I believe this discussion has relevance because it raises the question of when (if ever) it makes sense for us to judge other people
If they’re fictional characters, I think the answer is “frequently.” If they’re not fictional, I think the answer depends heavily on what sense of the word “judge” we’re using.
“He owed it to everyone in his life to have that epiphany much earlier.”
I’d also like to point out that if we could control when we had epiphanies, they wouldn’t be epiphanies.
I don’t think it makes sense to judge fictional characters, because fictional characters act the way they do, by definition, to further a story. I particularly distrust the impulse to judge fictional characters because writers usually take advantage of our impulse to judge in order to manipulate our sympathies to make the story more interesting. As long as we recognise that manipulation, it does us little harm, but when we start to believe the fiction, we start making unwise choices.
I have already proposed a moral progression for judgments: arrive at a consensus on a fact, derive a standard, and then, if necessary, judge people against that standard. You can do that with real people, although judging always requires prudence, but you cannot do it with fictional characters.
As for what judging means, I do not know what it means to you. but perhaps I can help by defining a couple of parameters:
(1) I do not believe you can judge people because you disagree with them.
I believe that a valid judgment requires, at minimum, a moral consensus.
(2) I believe judgments require clarity.
Many of the implied judgments referenced in this discussion seem to me to also lack clarity. Consider, from the title, the pseudo-scientific formulation, “Peter Pan Syndrome”. Google DSM IV and “Peter Pan”, and you will find that psychologists do not appear to recognise such a condition. This raises the question: why use the word “syndrome” at all? The term “Peter Pan Syndrome” appears to denote a failure to follow an appropriate life path, yet I have not had a clear answer from anyone on the two obvious questions: can you define that life path, and how many people agree on the duty to follow such a path?