It’s my initial contribution to your weekend, amigos, but don’t worry, we’ll be moving on smartly.

> Despair, as well as being… well, you know, bleeeeeurgh, is also an ‘Inc’ dedicated to demotivating people. Check out their Classic Calendar. For full appreciation of it, you need to look beyond the Mediocrity page featured upfront and click through the links for the entire sequence: Agony, Apathy, Defeat, Failure, Futility, Ineptitude, Losing, Mediocrity, Mistakes, Pessimism, Procrastination and Stupidity – or as much of it as you can bear. (Via Natalie Solent.)

> Next up, you can ‘Test your sensitivity to disgust and take part in a real science experiment’. I did, and I found myself to be not all that easily disgusted. (Via Anthony Cox).

> Finally, the Dante’s Inferno Test. Find out about yourself. (Via Alan Brain.)

Three criticisms of the concept of evil have been examined thus far and, so I’ve tried to argue, have been found wanting. The final objection I’m going to look at is quite a common one: it’s the view that calling somebody or something evil is too judgemental. Who are we to sit in judgement on others? They don’t think that what they’re doing is evil, and what gives us the right to impose our particular moral standards on others?

Well, the concept of evil is judgemental, no two ways about it. Calling an act evil certainly amounts to passing judgement on it. But then, so does calling it wrong, or right, or good or bad. If we want to abjure judgementalism, we’ll have to abjure the whole of morality. This is easier said than done – people who claim to rise above morality normally end up by making judgements that look exactly like moral ones, since it’s very hard to go through life without finding some things good, some bad, some acts right, some wrong. Morality is not a bolt-on optional extra in life, it’s absolutely central to it: everything we do is saturated with evaluations. Furthermore, if we really want to avoid being judgemental, we’ll have to give up on saying that we ought to avoid judgementalism, since that itself is a highly judgemental statement. Why should we believe that first order judgements are to be avoided, but not second order ones? And why should we adopt a view that so readily leads to paradox, such that if the view is true, we shouldn’t endorse it?

At this point a supplementary consideration is often called into play, namely that we only call others and their actions evil as a way of distancing ourselves from them, as a device to let us pretend that we aren’t like the evil-doer, that we’re different and better. The evil-doer is excluded as Other from our circles of acceptance.

Again, there is some truth (a little truth) in this: by and large we do, rightly, think that the evil-doer is different from us. Certainly if any reader of this blog really believes that he’s morally on a par with Saddam, then he should lock himself up at once, since if he’s right he’s a highly dangerous person. But of course people who make this ‘we’re all desperate sinners together’ pitch don’t normally believe it, and would be absolutely outraged if we took it at face value and really did treat them with horror and ostracism on account of their supposed evil-doing. What they generally do believe, and rightly, is that we all have bad elements in our characters, so that we have something in common with evil-doers which may help us understand them, and see that they’re not entirely different from ourselves. This is quite true, and always worth saying. But it can be said without any inconsistency by someone who does believe that there’s such a thing as evil. When we call Saddam, or Hitler or Pol Pot evil, we can perfectly well recognise that we have something in common with them, something morally in common, and that we have the seeds of evil in ourselves. But that’s a far cry from saying that we’re all sinners of equal magnitude, and hence that none of us can legitimately judge another. (Even if we were sinners of equal magnitude, it wouldn’t follow that we must refrain from passing judgement on others. Why can’t I say that he’s an evil-doer, and so am I, and he’s to be condemned, and so am I? Only the belief that I can’t condemn myself, and hence in consistency mustn’t condemn others like me, could rule this out. But that’s a hopelessly implausible view – most of us condemn ourselves quite frequently, especially in private, and especially at three in the morning).

What about the other claim implicit in this objection to the concept of evil, that we can’t judge others because their scheme of values is different from ours? This is a version of moral relativism, a view which has so many problems that it’s hard to know where to begin with it (and even harder to know where to stop). One major objection is this: if others have a different scheme of values from us, and if there’s no way of saying that one scheme is better than another, then it really doesn’t follow that we ought to avoid making moral judgements about them. If their scheme is as good as ours, then ours is as good as theirs, and by our values, people who stuff their enemies into industrial shredders are doing something evil. Relativism alone gives us exactly no reason to refrain from making this kind of judgement. People often embrace moral relativism because they think that it supports greater tolerance of others. But this is a mistake: the claim that we ought to tolerate difference is just one more value, and can’t, if relativism is true, have a privileged non-relativistic position outside all particular value schemes. (If we want a view of morality which supports tolerance of those who differ from us, we’ll be a lot better off with some form of commitment to moral objectivity.)

Where does this leave us with evil? Well, the great evil-doers are different from most of the rest of us, and only a sham pseudo-modesty denies it. So there’s nothing objectionable about passing a judgement which implies that there’s this difference. But they’re not entirely different from us, and we do well to remember this and to be vigilant about our own impulses to evil. The fact that evil-doers wouldn’t agree with our assessment of them doesn’t by itself provide any reason whatever to alter that assessment, even for moral relativists, let alone for moral objectivists. So it looks as if the concept of evil survives this objection too.

The purpose of these posts on evil has been to see if the concept can be defended from some standard criticisms of it, and I’ve been arguing that it can. But that’s a fairly negative (though necessary) project; all the positive work of providing an account of what evil actually amounts to still remains to be done. Until we have such an account, our understanding of it remains extremely fragmentary, partial, incomplete (not that we can reasonably expect ever to have a complete understanding of this or any other of our great moral concepts). And in the case of evil, things are perhaps more comfortable that way. But some further understanding of this concept – and hence of the terrible phenomenon to which it applies – might be valuable to us, since occasions for using it are not likely to run out any time soon. (Eve Garrard)

[This series is now concluded. Parts 1 and 2 appeared on Monday and Wednesday.]

In two posts earlier this month, I linked to articles discussing the unfolding political process in Iraq and, more particularly, the demand for direct elections. In today’s Guardian there are two pieces by Rory McCarthy on the same issue. In the first, McCarthy reports:

Tens of thousands of protesters marched through Basra yesterday to demand a general election, as an aide to Iraq’s most senior Shia cleric warned that he may issue a fatwa against the proposed new government.

The demonstration in the southern Iraqi city was a rare show of strength in support of Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani’s call for direct elections to choose a new government, and comes as a blow to Washington’s plans for a smooth handover of power.

Last night one of the cleric’s aides warned that if the US administrator in Baghdad, Paul Bremer, does not accept his demand, Ayatollah Sistani may issue a ruling telling Iraq’s Shia majority not to accept the new government, which is due to take power by July.

The second McCarthy report quotes Sistani as follows:

The mechanism to create an interim government does not at all represent the Iraqi people in a just way… The best mechanism is to have proper elections … Otherwise the new government will not be able or qualified to work. The political situation will be worse and the security situation will be worse.

The military intervention in Iraq had democratization as one of its stated aims, and whatever practical difficulties there may now be in organizing proper elections, they just have to be negotiated. The political costs of resisting a perfectly legitimate demand will almost certainly be higher than trying to sort out such practical difficulties.

Jim Nolan, in The Age, criticizes the stance of the Australian Labor Party over the war in Iraq:

Today, Iraqis for the first time in three decades have a chance for a decent future; the world has witnessed the capture of Saddam Hussein, the about-face of Libya over weapons programs and the change of heart in Iran over inspections.

One could be excused for hoping these developments might herald a rethink by Labor on Iraq and a loosening of the caucus line – especially after members of the federal caucus signed a letter to President George Bush welcoming the removal of Saddam.

No such liberalisation appears to be in prospect. Just this week Latham is quoted as saying: “They made a mistake in going to a war on Iraq. Whatever the reason or motivation was I think it was a mistake.”
…..
Can we expect a vigorous debate on [the] issues at Labor’s national conference or will it be more of the same lazy consensus that has persistently shrunk from confronting the real human rights argument for intervention in Iraq[?]

Will there be a ringing call for an overhaul of a sclerotic UN and a commitment of real resources and assistance to build a democratic Iraq? Or will Australian Labor retreat… into a “facade of spurious unity” because anything other than token approval of the removal of Saddam will have the appearance of a concession to John Howard?

I’m losing control of my name here. Julien Devereux has written in with a suggestion developing Dave Bennett’s definition, which I reported yesterday. Says Julien:

If you “geras” someone on your blog, rather than over the phone or in person, that’s textual gerassment, isn’t it?

Talking about which… no, I’m not saying anything.

It suddenly occurs to me: people have been mispronouncing my name for years, in fact ever since I’ve had it. But I have a blog now. I can put things straight. ‘Geras’ is pronounced with a hard ‘g’ – as in ‘get’ rather than in ‘geranium’ – and to rhyme with ‘terrace’; so with the emphasis on the first syllable, not the second. Just like that, see: ‘Geras’. Now, in ‘gerassment’, it may be different. I’ll have to consult with its originator, but I’m reckoning it may take on something of the accentuation of ‘harassment’.

Two stories about Sidney Morgenbesser from a Christopher Hitchens piece in the February 2004 issue of Vanity Fair (not online – hat tip: Gur Hirshberg):

Many and various are the New York tales that are told of Professor Sidney Morgenbesser. During a conference of linguistic philosophers at Columbia University, he interrupted the pompous J. L. Austin, who was saying that while many double negatives express a positive – as in “not unattractive” – there is no example in English of a double positive expressing a negative. Morgenbesser’s interjection took the form of the two words “Yeah, yeah.”… On another occasion, he put his pipe in his mouth as he was ascending the subway steps. A policeman approached and told him that there was no smoking on the subway. Morgenbesser explained – pointed out might be a better term – that he was leaving the subway, not entering it, and had not yet lit up. The cop repeated his injunction. Morgenbesser repeated his observation. After a few such exchanges, the cop saw he was beaten and fell back on the oldest standby of enfeebled authority: “If I let you do it, I’d have to let everyone do it.” To this the old philosopher replied, “Who do you think you are – Kant?” His last word was misconstrued, and the whole question of the categorical imperative had to be hashed out down at the precinct house. Morgenbesser walked.

I’ve known the first of these two stories for many years, since it was told me by a philosopher colleague. Versions of it have also been blogged before (see here and here.) But the second one is new to me.

Anne Cunningham points us towards a discussion of the realist novel:

In this inclusiveness, the realist novel never ceases to make allegorical (or functional) use of subordinate characters, but it does ferociously problematize such allegory, by more clearly and insistently putting it in juxtaposition with reference. Allegorical characterization now comes at a price: the price of the human particularity that it elides. In other words, the realist novel systematically reconfigures its own allegorical reduction of characters through a pervasive awareness of the distributional matrix.

Got that? I just love the final sentence, about which Anne has a pertinent observation.

Brad DeLong decided to become an economist rather than a historian when he realized that the guys applying for history department assistant professorships were 35 and had published two books, while the guys applying for economics department assistant professorships were 25 and had a half-finished draft of one article. Since getting his PhD from Harvard in 1987, he has taught at MIT, Boston University, Harvard University, and the University of California at Berkeley. For the first part of the Clinton administration (the fun part) Brad worked for the US Treasury as one of its many, many Deputy Assistant Secretaries. He blogs at Brad DeLong’s Website.

Why do you blog? > As a move in the intellectual influence game. The internet has to be useful for education and scholarly and political conversation somehow. This is just the latest in a series of experiments.

What has been your best blogging experience? > There have been a lot of wonderful experiences. The best? I’ll have to think about that…

What has been your worst blogging experience? > Donald Luskin.

What would be your main blogging advice to a novice blogger? > Figure out where you have the most to say.

What are your favourite blogs? > Kevin Drum is a favourite, as is JustOneMinute.

Who are your intellectual heroes? > Of those I know well, Larry Summers and Andrei Shleifer. Of those who are very dead, John Maynard Keynes and Adam Smith.

What are you reading at the moment? > Sargent and Velde, The Big Problem of Small Change; Tirthankar Roy, An Economic History of India 1857-1947.

What is the best novel you’ve ever read? > The Magic Mountain – but it has to be read at 21 while holding a Eurail Pass.

What is your favourite poem? > I have always liked Marvell’s ‘To His Coy Mistress’.

What is your favourite movie? > Casablanca.

What is your favourite song? > ‘Five Variations on a Theme of Dives and Lazarus’, by Ralph Vaughan Williams.

Who is your favourite composer? > Beethoven.

Can you name a major moral, political or intellectual issue on which you’ve ever changed your mind? > Does becoming convinced of the importance of keeping inflation under 5% per year count?

What philosophical thesis do you think it most important to disseminate? > That science works.

What philosophical thesis do you think it most important to combat? > The ‘I’m all right, Jack, and let’s not worry about primitive accumulation’ thesis of Anarchy, State, and Utopia.

Who are your political heroes? > LBJ, for breaking the Democratic Party over civil rights. FDR, for being pragmatic and willing to try a whole bunch of things. Winston Churchill and Edouard Daladier, for being the only two leaders seeking to put their countries in harm’s way at the start of World War II.

What is your favourite piece of political wisdom? > There’s such a thing as political wisdom?

If you could effect one major policy change in the governing of your country, what would it be? > Stop electing Republicans.

If you could choose anyone, from any walk of life, to be President, who would you choose? > Bob Rubin.

What would you do with the UN? > I’ve always thought Max Singer’s ideas about a ‘democratic caucus’ to be very good.

What do you consider to be the main threat to the future peace and security of the world? > Nuclear proliferation.

Do you think you could ever be married to, or in a long-term relationship with, someone with radically different political views from your own? > No.

What, if anything, do you worry about? > Nuclear proliferation.

If you were to relive your life to this point, is there anything you’d do differently? > Finish more projects sooner.

Where would you most like to live (other than where you do)? > Manhattan – but only if you’re really, really rich.

What would your ideal holiday be? > Sit on a beach with a lot of books.

What do you like doing in your spare time? > What spare time?

What is your most treasured possession? > My wife (for some value of ‘possession’).

If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to? > Brad 🙂

What talent would you most like to have? > Better hand-eye coordination.

What would be your ideal choice of alternative profession or job? > I have the ideal profession.

Who is your favourite comedian or humorist? > John Cleese.

Which baseball team do you support? > Boston Red Sox.

If you could have one (more or less realistic) wish come true, what would you wish for? > That the Republican Party splinters into feuding factions – like what happened to the British centre-left between 1979 and 1990.

If you could have any three guests, past or present, to dinner who would they be? > I don’t know. Would they be in their friendly or their unfriendly moods? Let’s try John Maynard Keynes, Niccolo Machiavelli, and Isaac Newton.

What animal would you most like to be? > Labrador Retriever.

[Previous profiles: Ophelia Benson (Nov 7); Chris Bertram (Sep 26); Alan Brain (Oct 10); Chris Brooke (Jan 2); Francois Brutsch (Dec 5); Jackie D (Oct 17); Harry Hatchet (Oct 24); Saddam Hussein (Nov 14); Jeff Jarvis (Dec 26); Oliver Kamm (Nov 21); Sheila O’Malley (Dec 19); Glenn Reynolds (Jan 9); Natalie Solent (Nov 28); Roger L. Simon (Oct 31); Michael J. Totten (Oct 3); Brian Weatherson (Dec 12). The normblog profile is a weekly Friday morning feature.]

Eighty-five years ago today, Rosa Luxemburg was murdered in Berlin. Hers was a strong, clear voice in the cause of international socialism in her time. Combative and humane, engaging and deeply engaged, it has carried an appeal for generations of readers. Luxemburg wrote, in perhaps the most famous of all her words:

Freedom only for the supporters of the government, only for the members of one party – however numerous they may be – is no freedom at all. Freedom is always and exclusively freedom for the one who thinks differently.

And she also wrote:

[A]ll conditions based on social inequality are fundamentally abnormal.

The best starting point for any general reader interested in Luxemburg’s personal life – her friendships, her relationships – is Elzbieta Ettinger’s magnificent biography, Rosa Luxemburg: A Life. The best political biography is J. P. Nettl’s Rosa Luxemburg.

I’m not going to say I’m being harassed over this because I’m not. One regular reader has politely enquired about it, that’s all. In doing so Dave Bennett (for he it is) has proposed a word for what he was doing in… jogging my elbow. He writes:

Dear Norm, I wouldn’t want to geras* you but unless I’ve missed it over the Christmas/New Year period aren’t your loyal readers owed some more episodes [of the Emmylou Review]. I’m looking forward to the rest of the series. All the best, Dave.

* geras (verb) – to gently harass/to get someone to complete a task for their own good.

Well, I’m glad Dave sees it like this, since this is how I see it myself: it’s gently; and it’s definitely for their own good. But, as I replied to him, not only are loyal readers, and also disloyal ones, to say nothing of the Supreme Voice of the Music herself and Galen Drubnachik’s Peripatetic Kangaroo, most certainly owed further episodes – which they will get, right up to the last Emmylou album released – but I was actually close to the point of posting this latest one when Dave wrote. You may not believe it, but it’s the unvarnished truth.

With the three albums to be noticed here, Emmylou enters a middle period, as I like to think of it. After a shaky start (to put it kindly) with the pre-epistemological-break Gliding Bird, she has by now laid down a solid reputation with a series of strong to superb albums, and she here coasts a bit, as she was entitled to, with what I think to be three weaker albums. That’s not to say they don’t have good things on them. Still, weaker.

1981 – Cimarron

Cimarron has two truly great tracks. They’re my top and runner-up, and by Chip Taylor and Townes Van Zandt, respectively. (Townes Van Zandt: I one day want to write a celebration of his music. If you don’t know, find out. Believe me.) Emmy sings harmony vocal with herself on the first of them. But even with the bubbling unders, for me the album is average within the Harris canon. Top track: Son of a Rotten Gambler. Runner-up: If I Needed You. Bubbling-unders: Spanish Is A Loving Tongue; Born To Run; Tennessee Waltz.

1982 – Last Date

A live gig, and her least good album after Gliding Bird. As I don’t have anything more to say about it myself, I shamelessly plunder the following, which appeared at The Virtual Stoa not too long ago. Chris Brooke speaks there of…

a 1982 live recording of Emmylou Harris performing “I’m Movin’ On”, backed by the Hot Band going at full blast for three exceptional minutes. Excellent solos on fiddle, keyboards and guitar break up six verses of heroic singing, all of which transforms Hank Snow’s country classic into something quite different, far more exhilarating, and altogether less smug.

It’s not even my No. 1 on the album, yet I stand by my judgement of the album overall. Top track: Restless. Runner-up: I’m Movin’ On. Bubbling-under: Buckaroo/Love’s Gonna Live Here (Medley).

1983 – White Shoes

You know, people, life can be hard. You write stuff on your blog, and there it is – written. Some smart person’s going to show up and say, ‘See, he said “weaker” – when anyone can tell… bada-boop bada-bing’. I only have to think about the best track on this album and I’m thinking about crying. And then put it on: gorgeous, melancholy piano intro and a near break in Emmylou’s voice in the second line. It’s quintessential country music yearning. Runner-up also damn good. So, not that I take back anything I’ve said, but you can give the middle of these three albums a miss, and then the first and the third of them, and just on account of their best numbers – well, if you could have them and don’t, you’re not in the best shape you could be. Top track: Like An Old-Fashioned Waltz. Runner-up: Pledging My Love. Bubbling-unders: On The Radio; It’s Only Rock ‘N Roll.

[The first four instalments were posted on December 13, and November 19, 16 and 2 at the old normblog site.]