Thursday, February 23, 2012

Patience vs. Anger, Resentment, and Revenge

I wrote this yesterday. Does it seem like an utter crock of shit a bit too Pollyanna-ish?

...It might be said, however, that some actions are unforgivable, that some wrongs cannot be tolerated or borne patiently. In such cases, resentment and revenge might seem more appropriate: who wants to hear about giving Nazis or other war criminals a second chance? Of forgiving them for their horrible crimes against humanity? These objections are powerful, and I don’t want to undertake a detailed response to them here...Instead, I want to note...a significant difference in the orientation of patient tolerance and endurance in contrast with anger, resentment, and revenge. As I have already discussed, the patient person is also a mindful, attentive person; patience is not oblivious to harms that occur and have occurred, and the patient person need not fail to judge wrongs as wrongs. But patience is also forward-thinking, attuned not only to the past and the present but also to the future. Persistent anger and resentment, by contrast, get stuck in the past. Although the person who seeks revenge certainly makes plans for the future, his or her plans are completely constrained by the harms of the past. The way in which past harms dominate the life and thought of the vengeful and resentful person thereby constrains this person’s vision and attention—the present and future are no longer a source of novel opportunities and new ideas and relationships, but only the continuation of a bitter, narrowly defined past. This raises a question about whether the person dominated by anger, resentment, and the desire for revenge is capable of moral, intellectual, or, if you wish, spiritual growth. Patience, as well as mercy and forgiveness, might by contrast be seen as activities that enable us to get on with our lives, to be receptive to a future that is richer in its opportunities and possibilities than the future of someone who lives only for the sake of revenge, or of someone embittered against life as a result of past harms and losses. Of course, this doesn’t mean that in patience we will simply forget the past. Rather, patience makes it possible to continue to live an open, searching—one might even say, hopeful—life, in spite of the past harms and adversities that often leave permanent and deep marks upon us.

7 comments:

  1. Not a crock, no (high praise indeed!), but I have two thoughts. The first is that you maybe exaggerate the effects of anger and resentment. For instance, you say, "Although the person who seeks revenge certainly makes plans for the future, his or her plans are completely constrained by the harms of the past." I would question the word 'completely' here. Can't a vengeful Nazi-hunter, say, also make plans that are not constrained by the past, e.g. to attend a family wedding? And if this is right, then I think this kind of person would still have the possibility of new opportunities, relationships, etc. I agree, though, that this possibility may well be reduced to the extent that the person is dominated by resentment, etc. (Or have I misunderstood what you're saying about this?)

    My second thought is not a criticism but just something that occurs to me. How does the stoical, enduring person fit into this picture? I mean someone who thinks of life as more or less bad, but to be borne uncomplainingly. Kant's dutiful non-suicide, perhaps, or anyone who might be thought of as a bit of a martyr. And I include here people who have very good reason to be unhappy, but who don't believe in complaining about their lot. They aren't necessarily hung up on the past, it seems to me, but they aren't exactly optimistic either. How receptive to the future should we say they are? (That's not a rhetorical question.) I guess I'm wondering about the relation between patience and optimism/pessimism. Patience seems to be related to optimism, but not identical with it. It's incompatible with despair, I think, and to that extent sits uncomfortably with pessimism. Is that right?

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  2. Thanks, Duncan. Yeah, I'll have to think more about "completely"--what you say seems to be a reasonable point here. I suppose the reasonable response is that the constraint comes in degrees? (Something else I plan to write about is the relationship between patience and immoral activity; e.g., supposing that revenge is immoral, it might still seem that a person can show a great deal of patience in plotting and carrying out a plan of revenge. This raises a version of the question about whether particular virtues can be employed toward vicious ends...)

    Lots of interesting questions in the second set. I'm planning to write about suicide and patience, and indeed, I'll have to think about the Stoic position on suicide. And I think you're right that patience is opposed to despair, but I guess I need to think more about the optimism/pessimism axis. Certainly, patience and hope seem related (though not the same), and I guess that being hopeful might be most naturally associated with optimism, although perhaps hopefulness can also be seen in some cases as simply realistic. At any rate--and I think we've touched on this previously--there seems to have to be a point in putting patience into practice. The question might then be what IS the point for someone who has a generally pessimistic view about the universe (or at least earthly life). Epictetus has these vaguely religious notions of one being an actor on a stage (without really any explanation of who the AUTHOR of the "play" is), and that one has a duty to play one's part well. So patience then seems to be relevant to honoring one's responsibilities and coming to accept one's "part," as it were.

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  3. Yes, I think the constraint comes in degrees. And perhaps the point of patience is just duty (although I'm not sure that can be whole story) or that it's the best one can do in the circumstances (from a self-interested point of view).

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  4. Hmm...I'm not sure what I think of some aspects of Stoicism, but the phrasing of your response--that is, the notion of patience as duty is something I hadn't actually thought of in those terms (insofar as I tend not to think in terms of duties). However, this is something that seems worth probing. I've already planned to write about and explore the relationship between patience and roles like teaching and parenting (and I appeal to those examples in much of what I've already drafted), and in the parenting case in particular, it certainly doesn't seem like too much of a stretch to think of patience as a duty insofar as some of what good parenting requires seems to be inextricable from patience. As you say, that may not be the whole story. But it also seems that one could dispense with the Stoic framework (actor on a stage, etc.) and just focus on duties, as it were, (I think I generally use the term responsibilities instead, so maybe this is just a verbal point) in terms of social (and familial) roles. Of course, that actually isn't so far from Epictetus, who says that our duties are derived from our roles and relationships to others...

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  5. I don't usually think in terms of duties much either, but I've started to think of doing one's duty as another way of talking about doing one's job (and vice versa). So I was really just paraphrasing your suggestion that "patience then seems to be relevant to honoring one's responsibilities and coming to accept one's "part," as it were."

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  6. Fair enough. But, as you suggest, it might be helpful in various ways to incorporate the idea of duty, insofar at that terminology might help in making some connections transparent (or in convincing philosophers who do prefer to talk in terms of duty that these considerations of patience and virtue are relevant...)

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  7. Oh yes, I agree. I just didn't want you to give me credit for an idea that I took from you.

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