balureacts
Balu Reacts
The kind of knowledge of cultures I seek, which is scientific, must be able to answer at least some of the following questions: What kind of knowledge does this culture have of Nature? In what way does this show Nature to be a ‘delicate’ balance? And harmonic in nature? How is this knowledge gained and transmitted? Is it different from the theories in Natural sciences? If so, in what lies the difference? How can it be tested? Is Nature a whole composed of parts? Why should there be a ‘balance’ between its parts? Or is it an aggregate of objects, events and processes? How can we decide one way or another?
At the moment, no one is anywhere near to answering these kinds of questions with respect to any culture. Many, in fact, deny that a science of cultures is possible at all; most postulate some kind of a divide between the natural and social sciences.
I believe that there are many hindrances that require to be won in our quest for knowledge of human beings and their cultures. One of the biggest, I have found, is the current crop of ‘social sciences’. Amongst other things, they hinder the development of a social science by encouraging ad hoc arguments. Not only are they full of them; they also propagate the idea that being ‘scientific’ is nothing other than having an opinion on some matter and having some ‘arguments’ in its favour. Actually, if you were to go and maintain this attitude among the Natural Scientists, no one would take you seriously. Yet, among us it has become the summum of ‘rationality’ and ‘scientificity’
Dear *Satya* and Vikram,
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! You guys have raised what is probably *the most* important set of questions so far. (*Satya*, you write in #292 that you are a woman. My apologies for addressing you as a ‘he’ so far. By the way, at times – this is the second time – you show an unbelievable capacity to jump steps and go to a problem that ‘should not’ be obvious!) I am not sure how to go about answering them and remain intelligible to a non-academic audience at the same time. I am going to do my best; if I fail, please prod me further: the cluster of questions is far, far too important to lose track of.
1. I am going to reformulate the questions but let me begin doing that by making the problem is *even more complex* than it is now. Let us begin in a very intuitive way and ask ourselves this question: where do we encounter ‘cultural differences’? In human contacts, of course. What kind of human contacts? *In inter-individual contacts*. That is, we see (or sense, or intuit or whatever) cultural differences in our contacts with *individual* human beings. You do not meet ‘the western culture’ but individual Americans, Germans, French, etc. Neither do these individuals meet ‘the Indian culture’: they meet individual Indians (or, even better, a ‘Madrasi Brahmin’, a ‘Gujerati Baniya’ – even these are general categories but I use them just to get the point across.) And yet, we appear to see cultural differences in these contacts. How to make ‘sense’ of *this experience*? Let us first see what is partially involved to truly appreciate the complexity of our ‘perception’.
1.1. Each individual human being is a complex combination of at least four aspects. There is his biological (or genetic) inheritance; there is his ‘social’ inheritance (whether he is from the Middle Ages or from a capitalist society); there is his psychological makeup (let us say his ‘personality’); and there is his cultural upbringing (whether he is a Madhva Brahmin or a Lingayat, say). When we meet individuals, in many different ways we notice these *differences*: the biological, the psychological and, after some time perhaps, ‘the social’ and ‘the cultural’. Let us bracket the biological away so that the situation becomes deliciously complex. Let us agree to use the following ‘words’ (they are just words for now) in order to go ahead and raise the problem. Let us call the ‘social aspects’ of a person the ‘sociality’ of the person; the psychological aspects the ‘personality’ of the person; and the ‘cultural’ aspects the ‘culturality’ of the person. Thus we meet individual human beings and see the differences between ourselves and the other human beings. What kinds of differences do we see?
1.2. Let us say you come across someone like the following: a Belgian who is living in America driving a Japanese Car. He is married to an African, loves Chinese music and is crazy about Indian food. He prefers jeans, wears a tie, is a bit short-tempered and has a terrific sense of humour. Each week he goes to the ‘Unitarian Church’, calls himself an atheist and a behaviourist (sorry, VC!), and is a nuclear scientist. And so on and so forth. Let us say, you are just his opposite in many things, and yet you become friends (so that you get to know each other well). In other words, you notice many differences (more than you can *say*) between yourself and this person.
1.3. From among all these differences, which express his sociality, which his culturality and which his personality? And for what reasons are they that? Notice that you cannot ‘solve’ these questions by giving definitions of what ‘culture’ etc. mean to you. Every one of us has the same freedom to define the terms any which way we want and your definition is my counter example. Nor can you undertake some kind of a statistical survey to answer them because it is not evident what you are looking for. Does the above person belong to one ‘culture’, many ‘cultures’, or to none? Are his ‘personal traits’ personal, social, cultural or biological? The answer that it is both ‘nature’ and ‘nurture’ is not adequate in our case. We need to know what ‘nature’ is and ‘nurture’ has at least three aspects in this case: his personality, his sociality and his culturality.
1.4. Put even more sharply, but in general terms: *what makes some difference, any difference, into a cultural difference as against, say, social or psychological difference?* (Somehow, in our contacts with individual human beings, we *must* have answered this question, even if none of us know what that answer is. Otherwise, we could not see ‘cultural’ differences.) Normally, one would expect Anthropology to have answered this question. But you are going to come out bitterly disappointed if you were to seek the answer either in their ethnographic texts or in their ‘theoretical’ treatises. They do not even *ask* this question, let alone solve it. (Sorry Vrikodara, another ‘neti, neti’!) Their ethnography presupposes cultural differences without saying what they are; their theoretical tracts still have not progressed beyond disputes about definitions of ‘culture’ and silly ‘theories’ about ‘human culture’.
1.5. My research project, which I call ‘comparative science of cultures’ (actually it sounds better in Dutch and German than it does in English) *begins* with this question: what makes some difference, any difference, into a cultural difference?’ I discovered that to answer this one has to develop a *theory* of cultural differences and my study of the western culture and the Indian one (sliced along several different themes) begins the process of developing precisely such a theory. The ‘iti, iti’ answer (that I have now) can be given in a single sentence, but one cannot understand it without understanding the theory I am building. (‘Cultural difference is the *how* of using the mechanisms of socialisation’.)
2. What I have discovered during the last two decades is this then: to say what is ‘cultural experience’ requires taking recourse to a theory about cultural differences. That is to say, it is one thing to ‘experience’ cultural differences, but it is a task of an entirely different magnitude to *say* what this experience consists of or what makes it ‘cultural’. I do not know whether the sequence of events that I describe in my reply to Jeffrey Kripal (the target article) struck you as odd or not: I say I am developing conceptual tools to ‘access’ my own experiences and interrogate them. That is, to *speak* of our experiences as ‘cultural’ experiences we need theories that enable us to make this distinction (between ‘cultural’ and ‘non-cultural’ say) and explain cultural differences. Otherwise, we can just keep talking any nonsense that comes to our head and insist that such an experience is ‘cultural’. (Many, many discussions on this thread are ample illustrations of this tendency. Every one is an ‘expert’ on saying what a ‘cultural practice’ is, why it is/could be a ‘superstitious’ practice and such like without even having the faintest idea of what is being talked about!)
3. Consider Vikram’s sensing of the problem: “What’s more, the insider/outsider dichotomy itself might be too simplistic. After all, to say, “you've got it all wrong” implies that you do in fact theorize within a framework of presuppositions. But in the case of multifarious India, is it even possible to extract abiding universals? One's presuppositions might vary from region to region, from caste to caste.” Right on!
What I am saying goes further than this: it varies from individual to individual and that is true with respect to all cultures and not just the Indian one. The insider/outsider distinction is *empty* when it comes to *saying* what cultural differences are: it is the task for building a scientific theory about specific cultural differences, and to build such a theory the passport of a person is strictly irrelevant. (See my declaration at the beginning of the target article.) So, can we ‘extract abiding universals’? (Vikram’s question: see the citation above.) No, we cannot and that in two senses. (a) Any theory we build will be hypothetical (the way scientific theories are), and not abiding in any sense of the word. (Besides, cultures themselves are dynamic entities: they evolve and change, do they not?) (b) We will not be ‘extracting’ some universal facts that require accounting. (Philosophically speaking, developing a scientific theory in our case is not the task of inducing some general patterns from trillions and trillions of facts. It would be impossible. I will simply state this baldly.)
4. If that is the case, how do we go about *identifying* the problems requiring solutions? I have partially answered it in my reply to Kannan (post #247). Here, let me just add another aspect: we must be truly thankful that Kripal and his forefathers exist! They give us one objective aspect of the problem. Instead of talking about it in the abstract, let me give an example. (Vrikodara, take heed! Here comes the cooked up example.)
4.1. We notice that, in the hands of Kripal, Ramakrishna Paramahamsa’s mysticism becomes an expression of homo-eroticism. Most of us do get upset and express this as well. One reaction: an *unscientific response* is to do what Rati Gupta, B S and Gaurang Bhatt did. Convinced of their own intelligence and of our utter stupidity they come up with some third-rate ‘atheism’ as though they have re-discovered the wheel all on their own. That is, they do not even sense the problem. Second response: not being geniuses like them, you and I sense something has ‘gone wrong’ somewhere. This is the first step. What has ‘gone wrong’? We start reading around, say, the articles from Rajiv Malhotra and Sankrant Sanu. What do we find out? This way of talking does not appear to be confined to Kripal alone. Therefore, there is a reasonable suspicion that it might not merely be an expression of an individual idiosyncrasy of Jeffrey Kripal. This is the second step. Let us say, we assume that it is the syndrome of Wendy’s children. So, we read a bit more, from different people, from different periods of time (say the travellers’ reports about India). They say the same things, but use a different imagery and a different jargon. This is the third step. We see that it is not *merely* a question of Kripal’s idiosyncrasy or *merely* a question of Wendy’s child syndrome (even if they are both) but that it encompasses people’s reports from the western culture as well. This is the fourth step. May be, it has to do with ‘the western culture’. At this moment, we merely have an intuitive idea of what ‘western culture’ is. So, we read a bit more: say, what the Islamic rulers and writers said about our traditions. We see that they said more or less the same things. This is the fifth step. So, it could be all of the above and yet might have something to do with what ‘religion’ is. (After all, both Christianity and Islam are religions.) Then, because we are Indians, we read and reflect about what we said about Christianity and Islam. We do not appear to have said similar things at all. This is the sixth step. Two possibilities open up: either our ‘religions’ are special; or, they might not be ‘religions’ at all. Then you start reading about religion and thinking again … This process continues until you are able to formulate a tractable problem and come up with a testable hypothesis.
4.2. We are not ‘inducing’ anything by first collecting trillions upon trillions of facts. We are doing research that is hypothesis driven, and which is being tested at every step. But what was the starting point? The ‘feeling’ that something is ‘wrong’ (cognitively wrong, that is) with Kripal’s description of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. Of course, my description above is cooked up in the sense that our research is never that simple or that straightforwardly progressive and cumulative. There will be false starts, blind alleys, inabilities to see the ‘obvious’ at times, etc. But that is a process of all scientific enquiries.
4.3. To *discover* that stories like Kripal trivialize and distort our experience (however simple that formulation might sound) required scientific research that has stretched for nearly two decades now. This is not the beginning point, but one of the results of research. (That is why I do not respond to posts like those of B S and others. They have no clue what I am talking about, and they apparently do not want to stop and think why someone is saying it, or what he could probably mean by that.) However, this is merely autobiographical. Today, the *results* of my research can *become* the starting points for a new, the younger generation of intellectuals. This is what scientific research enables. On this, I pin my hopes.
5. Let me quote *Satya*’s questions in entirety: “So shouldn't social science (in this instance, a science of culture) seek to explain what we observe or perceive of different societies (in this instance cultures)?
The question, when it comes to culture, is whose perception and how do we define that perception? What we observe of the physical world is pretty much the same irrespective of our own culture, but when we make observations about societies (and cultures), what we observe, how we perceive seems to differ from observer to observer, and more widely between outsiders and insiders. So whose observations are the social scientists supposed to explain? And how do they define what that perception is? Do they have to take the perceiver's word for it? Or better put, don't they have to take the perceiver's word for it?” Let me now see which questions I have answered, and which I have not.
5.1. The first question. Yes, the science of culture should indeed *explain* what we perceive. We also seem to *perceive* cultural differences even where we cannot (without such a science) *say* what we perceive.
5.2. The other sets of questions she raises have been partially reformulated and partially answered. Let me, nevertheless, state one general point. Even though the natural world is invariant, the *way* we experience this world is, somehow and to some extent, dependent upon the theories we use to *say* what we experience. (There is a huge debate about this issue, and it is not yet settled one way or another. We do not, as yet, even have a decent theory of perception. Research, for example, in Computer Vision is trying to simulate some aspects of perception of objects and motion etc). This is true for our cultural world too: we can say what we *see* depending upon what ‘theories’ we bring to bear on what we see and say. Dependent to what extent? This is not a philosophical question, but one for scientific research. The theories about cultural differences have the *onus* of answering this question partially as well.
This has become a very, very long post. My apologies. But the questions are so important that I could do nothing else.
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear Kannan,
Here I was wondering whether you had disappeared from the face of the world because there was nary a sound from you. Nice to know you are alive and kicking! Welcome back to the discussion! About your queries.
1. Am I making a distinction between western epistemology and some other epistemology? If you mean epistemology in its philosophical sense, i.e., the enquiry about the nature and limits of human knowledge, I do not quite think so. Perhaps, my research would add and/or modify some of the widely held claims by a majority of philosophers. Some questions might turn out to be unintelligible or wrongly posed, some new issues might arise, but I do not see my results as an *alternate* epistemology that would be different from every theory propounded in the course of the western intellectual history.
2. It is true I emphasize that the majority of the social sciences take a particular experience of the world for granted and assume as ‘universally true’ the assumptions that structure such an experience. Not only do I identify these premises as Christian theological in nature, but also criticise them. Of course, I do not stop at just criticising them but go further in an attempt to provide an *alternative* theory. What does this imply with respect to the limitations of my own theory? The answer has to do with two things.
2.1. What exactly is the nature of my criticism? Firstly, I criticise these theories for not being ‘scientific’. That in two senses: (a) I say they are secularised Christian theologies. (b) And that they are not scientific because they are not cognizant of this. Secondly, now comes the important question: *could they have been any different?* According to my story, *they could not have been*. Since you are reading my book, I can put this answer in another way: the western intellectuals were *constrained* by their culture (the nature of religion and its relation to the western culture) to theorise how they did. In other words, I do not call it *their failure*, even though it is a cognitive failure, when looked at as an issue of producing knowledge (i.e. as an epistemological issue). If one were to pose the issue abstractly, i.e. without taking the real and historical dynamics of producing scientific knowledge, then exactly the same criticism (i.e. the constraints of the culture) would have been applicable to whoever theorised first. If Indian culture had developed the ‘social sciences’ first, it would also have been hampered by its *cultural constraints*.
2.2. However, this cognitive failure of the western culture provides an extremely important reference point (or provides one set of problems) thanks to which I can *escape* the constraints of my culture and become subservient only to the dynamics of producing scientific theories. That is to say, the development and replacement of my theories will be subject to the dynamics that govern any scientific theory, and *only to that*. Let me make this abstract answer concrete by taking two examples of my theory production: one from the book you are reading and the other from my forthcoming book.
My theory of religion answers two questions *simultaneously*: what is the nature of religion? Why did the western intellectuals see religion in every culture? The answer to one is also the answer to the other. No ad hoc assumptions intervene in the process of answering the first question and deriving the answers to the second. In other words, the *cognitive failure* of the western culture is a problem I have to solve and the solution to this problem has to be derived (in some appropriate sense) from my theory about that phenomenon which they failed to understand. (This must be done without adding ad hoc assumptions.)
The western ethical traditions transform us either into immoral peoples or moral cretins. To show that we are neither, I need to develop a theory of ethics that (a) shows that there are ethical traditions in the Indian culture; (b) explains the western ‘theories’ of ethics and the corresponding perception. That is to say, my theory of ethics will *include* the western ‘theories’ as its limiting case. Under specific assumptions, I must show how you can go from a theory of ethics I develop (which, I claim, is the Indian ethics) to the western ethics. [To use a historical example: Einstein’s theory enables one to ‘derive’ the Newtonian theory as its limiting case and under specific assumptions. In my book on ethics, I have done this. Currently, I am beginning on the final version of this book; so, this is what *I think* I have been able to do. I will have to wait and see whether it lives through the final version.]
3. In other words, my story (though drawn from my culture) *has* to account for sets of theories that are constrained by the western culture. It is not simply a story about how we ‘experience’ the world. It not only does more; it is forced to do more if it aspires to be scientific. Such a scientific story, then, can be developed by any one from any culture (see my declaration at the beginning of the target article); if it is replaced, it will be because the better theory will do the job better. In other words, my story will become subordinated to the dynamics of scientific growth and progress of science. That is why, as I see it, the ‘Indian Renaissance’ (I am really charmed by *Satya’s* characterization) is of significance and importance not just to us but to the human community and human knowledge.
Trusting I have answered your questions,
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear Kannan,
You ask two sets of questions: one about a possible inconsistency (and you also show me how to avoid it) and the second, which is more clarificatory in nature. Let me begin with the second first.
1. You are fairly accurate in representing the gist of my argument. But I am not sure why you use the notion of historical accident as an “escape hatch”. The situation is really very simple. I am merely describing one of the ways in which scientific theories grow. Let me use an example. (I am using it because it is such a lovely example, and is attributed to one of the greatest geniuses Mankind has ever produced. Nothing more is implied.)
It appears that Sir Isaac Newton was frequently complimented for being the greatest genius the world had ever known. One of his replies is alleged to have been the following: “Even a pygmy sees further than the giants if he stands upon their shoulders. And I, Sir, stand upon the shoulders of giants.” The extraordinary humility apart, there is something very important to what Newton is saying: his theory would not have been there, if the theories of Copernicus and Galileo were not there before him. It is, of course, a historical accident that certain people preceded Newton. This allowed Newton, however, to write his Principia.
In a way, this is all I am saying. Thanks to the writings that exist today, I can build my theory. The errors and mistakes (or however one characterises them) provide me with the problem-situation. Why certain errors are systematically committed? This is one question. The second question is with respect to the nature of the phenomenon they studied where these errors exist. All I am doing is developing a hypothesis that links these two together: for instance, I say, it is in the nature of religion (this is one aspect) that it makes those who have it want to see religion in all cultures (this is the second aspect). Taken together, the hypothesis not only tells us what religion is, but also explains the errors of the previous generations.
Perhaps, another example would explain why there is nothing extraordinary to what I am doing. If there is a systematic error committed by people in identifying a certain colour under artificial light, your hypothesis will explain both why people commit the error and, at the same time, why some colour appears differently under artificial light.
Of course, in my case, cultures and their descriptions are involved and not colour perception in natural and artificial light. But that has to do with the nature of the domain that is being investigated. For the rest, they are symmetric as far as their cognitive structure is concerned.
In other words, I am saying that my ‘Indianness’ is no barrier to building a theory about cultural differences because I have the work of previous generations to lean on. Without them, I could not have done what I have done so far. I can only be grateful to them for this.
2. In a way, I have almost answered your inconsistency. Even here, a certain reformulation is needed. You see, I do not think that there is anything called a ‘scientific methodology’ that one can follow in order to produce scientific theories. (In fact, no historian or philosopher of repute has spoken in such terms for more than 100 years. Many scientists may still do so; certainly most ‘social scientists’ do so. But this is an old idea from the 19th century, which has been rightly discarded today.) Therefore, I do not claim that any one who follows the scientific methodology will improve upon my results. This is not so important to your argument either. So, if we remove this unnecessary sentence fragment from your question, this is how it looks like:
“I think you are vulnerable to much criticism on this front because your simultaneous claims that (a) Western anthropologists could only have got it wrong, and (b) that anybody, (even a Western anthropologist or social scientist), can get it right and improve upon your theories … appear to be contradictory.
“How can (a) and (b) apply simultaneously unless you are the very first investigator in the history of social sciences who has … got it right? You are entirely entitled to claim this and defend this position but you will obviously be challenged.”
You will see straight away that, when the unnecessary sentence-fragment disappears, the contradiction is not that strong: (a) Western anthropologists could only have got it wrong; (b) anybody, (even a Western anthropologist or social scientist), can get it right. These sentences say that they got it wrong so far (and it could not be any other way) and they can get it right from now on. All that is required is that between ‘then’ and ‘now’ a more correct theory has entered the picture. I claim that it has: my theory is able to do more (much more) than any other theory in the market place. And that, to develop and build upon this theory further, one does not have to be an Indian or anything else.
My individual person enters into the picture only if someone wants to know why Balu wrote ‘The Heathen …’ and other books (which he, hopefully, will write!). Then Balu’s Indianness might become important. It is like asking the question why did some particular scientist, and not another, discovered some proof or the other. Then, the individual biography might become important.
Will my theory be challenged? I hope so. Otherwise, there is no hope of scientific progress. Where would science be, if there was no criticism and disputation? But the thing to note is this: my theory can be challenged, improved, rejected, modified, etc. the*same way* you do any or all of these things in the natural sciences. The same, however, cannot at all be said of the competitor ‘theories’, whether of a Wendy, of a Kripal, of a John Hicks, or of a Ninian Smart. There is no way you can empirically test any of their ‘theories’.
Once this is understood, what does it matter who is first or the last? What matters is the growth of human knowledge and the growth in understanding that ensues.
Friendly greetings
Balu
The discussion about the rain dance is in danger of getting derailed and one might end up missing the forest for the trees. This post is an attempt to link this issue with the larger concerns of the target article and the discussions of the past few weeks.
1. The general pattern that has come to the fore is that Wendy and her children (including Jeffrey Kripal the reply to whom is the target article) *systematically* portray the Indian traditions in an unfavourable light, even when compared to how religions like Christianity, Islam and Judaism are portrayed. This claim is made in several articles, independent of whether these religions and the Indian traditions are true or false, whether they are irrational or rational, and so on. The discussion is not, as Rajiv Malhotra pointed out some time ago (see Tapori’s post #267 for the links), about the truth-claims of these religions and traditions but about their depictions.
2. Because this is a *systematic phenomenon*, the obvious question is about the ‘why’. One of the possible explanations is that these portrayals are ‘Orientalist’, ‘racist’ and ‘Eurocentric’ in nature. My point is that this explanation is not adequate because it ends up transforming *all* writers, who provide such descriptions into ‘racist’, ‘Eurocentric’, ‘Orientalist’ as the case may be. These writers include not just the western scholars but many, if not most, Indian ones as well.
3. I account for this state of affairs by suggesting that the modern social sciences are secularised Christian theologies. One cannot draw on this fund of ‘knowledge’ and contribute further to it without, in some sense, becoming ‘theologians’ as well. In several posts, I have provided some considerations to make this extravagant claim appear less counter-intuitive. Before my argument can become plausible, I need to solve many cognitive problems; before it becomes worthy of further research along the lines I suggest, some *alternative* conceptualisations have to be provided. In my book on religion I believe to have done both.
4. In the target article, and in several of my replies, I go further along this line. If what I claim is true, one has to show that the same holds good for Kripal as well. That is to say, one has to show that he cannot possibly have produced knowledge about Ramakrishna Paramahamsa or his mysticism. Again, one possible way of doing it is to challenge the truth-claims of psychoanalysis. (That is, one can try to show why this discipline is not a science.) But this would not be sufficient for my purposes. I need to show that he *could not* have produced knowledge and that his stance prevents him from even recognising this fact. I do this by showing that his object of study is *not* the experience he claims he is studying: his ‘explanations’ trivialise and distort the Indian cultural experience, which is his object of study.
5. There is something more that requires doing. If social sciences cannot produce knowledge, this must be true whether they study the western culture or ‘non-western’ cultures. I suggest that it is true by showing (or suggesting, if you find that I have not ‘shown’ it adequately in my post) that attempting to explain the ‘origin of religion’ by appealing to a set of *natural causes* distorts his object of study. As I put it, atheism *is* a philosophical option, but if one embraces it to study the origin and nature of religion, *one cannot do science*. To become a theist and study religion is to do theology and not science. In other words, I point out that he faces a dilemma and that, by virtue of this, he could not be contributing to human knowledge by doing what he does.
6. Of course, this unsatisfactory state of affairs about the nature of social sciences has not gone unnoticed in the western intellectual history. Even though, as far as I know, no intellectual has argued (or seen) this case in it’s *generality*, many people have responded to many aspects of this situation in many different ways over a period of time. Ludwig Wittgenstein, the Austrian philosopher, is one such. He was dissatisfied with the nature of philosophical enquiries in the western culture and tried to arrive at some understanding of the nature of philosophical problems and their purported solutions. His writings are not systematic elaborations in the form of a theory; he formulates some of his startling insights in at times condensed, at times cryptic manner.
7. Sir James Frazer wrote a multi-volume work called ‘The Golden Bough’, an ‘anthropological’ compendium of stories-cum-explanations about certain kinds of practices in cultures. Wittgenstein wrote down some of his remarks, which were published (posthumously, if my memory serves me right) as ‘Remarks’ on that book. (I am not sure whether he read all the volumes, or read only the abridged edition of Frazer’s book.) In any case, he does not find the Frazer’s ‘explanations’ satisfactory because they transform all ‘non-western’ cultures into *idiotic* ones (my term, not his). Amongst other things, he considers Frazer’s discussion of the rain dance in that set of ‘Remarks’.
8. This is where Willem’s post #254 comes in. Wittgenstein notices that Frazer tries to ‘explain’ the practice of rain dancing by attributing some sets of *beliefs* to the people whose practice it is. The attribution of such beliefs, says Wittgenstein, ‘explains’ human practices only by trivializing them (my words, not his). That is to say, they ‘explain’ the *practice* of rain dancing as an *expression* of some sets of beliefs. He calls such an attempt a ‘sickness’ (his favourite metaphor). He points out too that this ‘explanation’ is not satisfactory because it cannot *explain* why these people perform the rain dance only during the rainy season. (Of course, one can give any number of silly explanations, including the ‘explanation’ that the performers are ‘conditioned’ to perform the rain dance during the rainy season. What Wittgenstein was talking about was a non ad hoc explanation.)
9. Willem brings out another kind of objection, which is misunderstood by *Satya* in his #272. Willem is not implying that irrigation is unknown to the ‘native American Indians’ in his analysis of the conversational fragment he cites. *He is saying just the opposite*. He is saying something like the following: one could suggest that rain dances are performed because the performers need rain water for their crops. (And, of course, they believe that their jumping up and down in some manner will *cause* the rains to come. This is what Frazer’s ‘explanation’ amounted to.) So, if these people are ‘taught’ about irrigation, then they will become ‘rational’ (or ‘scientific’ as the case may be) and get an insight into the ‘superstitious’ nature of their practices. Willem is drawing attention to the fact that *this argument is wrong*. The ‘rain doctor’ knows about irrigation and says that this has *nothing to do with* the rain dance. In other words, one should not further ‘explain’ the rain dance by speaking about the ‘need’ for rain water either.
10. The general point about the example of the rain dance is this then. Here too is a practice *distorted* by the kind of explanation that is provided. It is important to understand what is being said and what is not. Neither Wittgenstein nor Willem is arguing that some practice in a culture is beyond criticism *just because* it is a practice in that culture. (Yay Bee Dee #260 understands it this way.) They both are saying something like this: make sure that your ‘explanation’ of a practice does not *distort* the practice; do not confuse a *distorted description* of a practice with its ‘explanation’.
11. In other words, this rain dance example is a further illustration of the fact that social sciences (in the case of Frazer, the discipline in question is anthropology) are unable to provide knowledge. (This is an illustration, not a ‘proof’ for the claim.) They seem to think that a distorted description is an ‘explanation’ and in the process of providing such a description, they transform human practices into “pieces of stupidity”. Again, this does not mean that there are no ‘stupid’ practices in human cultures. This is not the issue. The issue is: *is it plausible to accept that all the practices of entire cultures are pieces of stupidity?* Wittgenstein did not think so: “it will never be plausible to say that mankind does *all that* out of sheer stupidity.” I agree with him.
Balu
Dear Vrikodara,
Your question: “In the context of puja, does Shivalinga denote or connote anything other than Shiva, in particular "phallus"? A Wendy says "Yes", a Balu says "No". For some person, not on this board, there is not a dialog; it is a reading of Wendy, a reading of Balu - how to decide between the two answers, which one represents the truth about Hindus?”
Depending on the patience of the visitor, a number of answers are possible including an identification of the nature of the dispute.
1. In the context of the Catholic mass, do the bread and the wine mean or refer to anything other than the flesh and blood of Christ? The Catholics say ‘yes’ (this is their doctrine of ‘transubstantiation’), the Protestant says ‘no’. How to decide between the two answers and which one represents the truth about the Catholics? Or does one want to say, which one represents the truth about Christianity? Or does one want to say, which one represents the truth about the world? Notice that, in each case, the dispute is *not* about the meaning (connotation) or the reference (denotation) of the word ‘bread’ and ‘wine’: it is a theological dispute that *appears* to be about the meaning and reference of words. So, how to decide between the answer in this case? Depends on your theology.
2. In the context of Christian worship, does the word ‘The Bible’ connote or denote anything other than the word of God, in particular a book? One says ‘yes’, the believer says ‘no’. Is this about the meaning or reference of the word ‘The Bible’? In *English*, the word ‘The Bible’ does not mean ‘a book’. It is a *name*. What does it name? A book. Any book? No. All books? No. Only books? No, because it could be a *scroll* too. So, some books, some scrolls and even some ‘recitations’ could all be called ‘The Bible’. Let us go further. Could one use the word ‘The Bible’ to name any of the above in different languages? Well, yes. So, what does the word ‘The Bible’ name? Something that is ‘the same’ irrespective of the language, or the form this ‘something’ assumes. ‘The Bible’ names this. So, what is the dispute about? The one who says that ‘The Bible’ denotes or connotes ‘a book’ is *fixated* on the physical shape of some book he saw somewhere and somewhen without even thinking his own claim through. So, one does not even have to refer to what the believers believe in order to show this. How to decide between the answers in this case? Depends on your understanding of what language is with respect to its use sociologically.
3. In the context of physics, does the word ‘mass’ denote or connote an invariant or a variable? A Newtonian says an ‘invariant’; an Einsteinian says a ‘variable’. For some one who does not know Physics, there is no dialogue. A reading of a Newton and a reading of Einstein. How to decide between the two readings, which one represents the truth about the physicists? I am sure we can elaborate on these ourselves. What is the dispute about? The truth of the reading has to do *not* with the community of physicists, *not* what any group says at any given moment of time, *but with* what a scientific theory is and how one chooses between competing theories.
These three examples are enough to illustrate the following: what *appears* as a dispute about the meaning and reference of words can be about things that have absolutely nothing to do with either the denotation or the connotation of the words. This is the first thing one will have to tell someone who is not on the board. Having said this, we can now focus on what the dispute is between a Wendy and a Balu.
4. In the context of puja, does Shivalinga denote or connote anything other than Shiva, in particular "phallus"? Does ShivaLinga ‘mean’ phallus? No, of course not. (‘Linga’ might, but not ‘Shivalinga’. But I will come to this.) Does the word mean ‘the phallus of Shiva’? Yes it does. In what way, precisely? The only way of answering this question is to circumscribe the reference first. Let us assume the existence of an entity ‘named’ Shiva. Let us assume too that he has a phallus. Then Shiva Linga names the phallus of Shiva. However, if it refers to such a *unique* entity as ‘the’ phallus of Shiva there can be only one such. (Shiva does not have infinite number of phalluses; and Shiva is an entity different from Durga, Ganesha and, say, a mortal called Balu.) So, do we do puja to this *unique* entity? That cannot be the case: there are finitely many shiva lingas in India and outside. So, what we do puja to is not a *unique* entity which is ‘the’ phallus of Shiva but a ‘form’ (or ‘representation’) of this unique entity.
What kind of a ‘form’ is this? It cannot connote or denote the ‘material’ of which ‘the’ phallus is made of. Whatever be the material out of which ‘the’ phallus of Shiva is constructed, it cannot be simultaneously constructed out of stone, aluminium, marble and so on. So, it will have to be the ‘shape’ of ‘the’ phallus of Shiva. Therefore, if something is to be a ‘Shiva linga’ at all, it *must* have a shape of ‘the’ phallus of Shiva and that shape must be invariant across Shiva lingas.
The very same devotees of Shiva, however, do puja to ‘Jyothirlinga’ and ‘Aatmalinga’ too. They are Shiva Lingas as well. Either one denies, pace the above argument, that these two are Shiva Lingas at all, or one has to say that these Lingas have the same ‘shape’ as ‘the’ phallus of Shiva. Neither of these two possibilities is true. The first is empirically false (both synchronically and diachronically); the second is to literally ‘see’ phallus where there is none, in ‘light’.
The only possible conclusion: Shivalinga cannot possibly refer to the ‘shape’ of ‘the’ phallus of Shiva. It is a *form*, which has little to do with the ‘shape’ of Shiva’s Penis. (Of course, no one has seen the ‘shape’ of that particular penis except S B!) Thus, for the lack of an alternative (at this stage of the discussion), we have to settle for the following: ShivaLingam is the ‘form’ in which we do Puja to Shiva. Apparently, this mind-numbing (linguistic and philosophical) tour merely tells us what our grandmothers told us in all their simplicity: we do puja to Shiva in the form of Linga.
Of course, one can go further in such a discussion along any number of other lines. It is not my intent and, I presume, neither yours to do so. Hopefully, this goes some way to clarifying the question you raised. The issues and the disputes are not so arbitrary any more than they are merely questions of alternate readings or etymological fights. Other substantial issues are involved and it is not an ‘undecidable’!
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear *Satya*,
You raise far too many issues; some can be answered here, some have been dealt with elsewhere, some can only be dealt with later… At the risk of sounding vain (a mere assurance about the absence of vanity is all I can give), I do think that you should read at least two things I have written: the ‘immature’ version of my project and ‘The Heathen…’ The one I can send you through e-mail (thanks to Arun Gupta) but I need an e-mail address to which I can send it. The other, you can get it through the inter-library loan system. I will only pick up the issues I can address myself to here, and leave the rest for the time being. First some general points though.
1. I do not want to indulge in a discussion about Behavioural Psychology either on this forum or on any other forum. It is to waste of time I do not have. Let me very briefly state where I stand with respect to that discipline. In its early days, it was useful in providing some insights into animal behaviour. I share the dominant consensus regarding its status today: it is obsolete. It does not quite have the status of ‘phlogiston theory’ but it is pretty close to the latter. I have suffered through many writings of Skinner and his disciples, but I have neither the time nor the interest to discuss their ‘theories’ now. This means, I am going to skip over issues involving ‘shaping’, ‘conditioning’ and such like.
2. There will be other issues I cannot discuss in any detail: the nature of scientific and ad hoc explanations and such themes from the philosophy of science. At best, I could make some bald claims and leave them there.
3. Even with respect to your question (c), I need to skip certain things (for instance, explaining why the question is posed wrongly). You will need to bear with all these limitations.
Having got some of the preliminaries out of the way let me turn to your post.
Here is your first concern: “Someone, let’s say her name is Wendy, comes along and sniggers ‘when you worship the lingam, you worship a phallus’. You…identify Wendy’s statement as an ‘ad hoc’ explanation. You counter: ‘No, I do puja (very loosely translates to ‘worship’) a lingam and lingam has many different meanings’. Couldn’t Wendy argue that your explanation is ‘ad hoc’ too?”
Two reformulations. (1) I do not identify Wendy’s statement as an ‘ad hoc’ explanation. I say that it trivializes what I am doing by providing a distorted description of what I do. (2) Here is what I say: “I am doing Puja to Shiva.” No discussion about ‘Lingam’ or its many meanings. This is a *wrong* way of conducting a discussion. She cannot, therefore, argue that I am giving an ‘ad hoc’ explanation because I am not giving an ‘explanation’ of what I am doing but merely describing it.
Let us sketch some scenarios in order to see what conversational moves are there in such a discussion. (1) She sees me doing ‘something’ and asks me what I am doing. (2) I say I am doing Puja to Shiva. From here on, two possible threads of discussion open up. The first thread goes like this. (3) Either she asks ‘why’ I do it: I say, it is our tradition, or that I am a Bhakta of Shiva, or because my mother said I should, or whatever else happens to be the case. Or she asks me why Shiva has the form he has: either I tell her the story from the Puranas, or provide her a ‘sthala purana’ (i.e. a story about that particular temple) or I say, ‘this is how we do it’. (4) Let us say, she pursues the story from the Puranas and asks me ‘So, you are worshipping the Lingam of Shiva’. I say, ‘yes, indeed, this *is* Shiva Lingam’. (5) Being persistent, she goes further: ‘do you know what ‘Lingam’ means?’ and I reply ‘well, yes, I do know some of its meanings as we use it in our language’. (6) Suppose she isolates one meaning, say, phallus and asks me: ‘So, you say you are worshipping Shiva’s Lingam’. I reply, unperturbed, ‘yes, but I said so already: this is Shiva’s Lingam. That is why we call it Shivalingam and not, say, KuberaLingam’. In this thread, where I am using Indian words, she cannot even come close to saying what she wants to.
Suppose at step three, we switch to speaking in English. (3’) She asks what ‘puja’ is and what ‘lingam’ means. Here is what I would say *today*: “‘Puja’ is best understood as a ritual; as far as ‘Lingam’ is concerned, I suggest you see it as ‘the form’ in which this ritual is performed to Shiva”. Again here, two possible threads open up: the first where she ‘contests’ my translation and the other where she accepts it. Let us pursue the second thread to begin with. (4’) ‘Why has Shiva taken this form?’ Because I am not trying to be polemical, I tell her our stories from the Puranas and say it is one of the stories from our tradition. And I add, ‘to perform puja to Shiva *means* to perform the ritual to this form’. Because my description has the form of a definition (Shiva puja=ritual to this form) no sensible discussion about it is possible. (5’) She can come up with *another* definition, but then, I say ‘yes, but that is not my definition’ and the discussion is over. On this thread, where we are discussing in English, she cannot say what she wants to either.
Let us now suppose she contests my translation given in step (3’). How is she going to do it? (4’) “But you are wrong. ‘Puja’ is ‘worship’ and ‘lingam’ means ‘penis’. Therefore, you are ‘worshipping a penis when you say that you are doing puja to the Shiva Lingam’”. Here is what I would say *today*: “You see, the English word ‘worship’ comes basically from Christian theology where one worships either the God or the Devil and nothing else. Under no interpretation of such a theology could one consider Shiva as ‘God’, leaving us with only one possibility that Shiva is either the Devil or his minion. Is this what you want say: that we are worshipping Devil or his minions? In that case, Wendy, we are not discussing a translation issue but a Christian theological one.” Again, two threads open up: either she denies it or asks for further explication. Let us take up her denial first. (5’) “No, that is not what ‘worship’ means. It means ‘reverence’. I am not a Christian, I was born a Jew; I know nothing of Christian theology even though I was married to one for some time.” I would say the following today: “Wendy, I would be willing to accept your definition of ‘worship’. But if I do so, I must do violence to other people and cultures: the Jewish, the Christian and the Muslim. From your definition, it would follow that they are not ‘worshipping’ God at all! And further, they cannot. In all these cultures, one can show ‘reverence’ to the elderly, the king, knowledge, the powerful, etc. To say that they show ‘reverence’ to God in the same way is to transform all of them into ‘idolaters’, which, according to their theologies, is the greatest sin! I am sorry, but your translation of ‘puja’ is not a mere linguistic issue.” Again, the discussion shifts to another level. She cannot pursue this line of enquiry either.
Let us say she asks for explication, the other thread in step (4’). How can the discussion proceed? (5”) Here let me bend the stick in favour of Wendy. “But every Sanskrit-English dictionary, and every Indian teacher in Sanskrit who knows English, translates ‘puja’ as ‘worship’. Are you saying their knowledge of either languages is deficient and *you are the only one* who knows how to translate ‘Puja’ correctly?” Being a reasonable person, I would not get offended by her rhetorical attempts to make me appear ridiculous. I would say the following: “You see, Wendy, we all learnt English through Indian languages and were taught that ‘Puja’ means ‘worship’. We give the meaning of ‘Puja’ to the English word ‘worship’. The first generations of translators ‘decided’ to translate ‘puja’ as ‘worship’ because they were convinced that we are ‘idolaters’ and ‘worshipped’ the Devil and his minions. So, you see, we have to discuss the historical issues involving colonialism and what it means to a culture like ours in order to satisfactorily resolve the issues of translation. That is all I am saying. Shall we do so? Have your read ‘The Heathen…’?”
Thus I can go on sketching several other scenarios of the possible conversational moves open to Wendy in conducting such a conversation. In none of them can she induce the *cognitive wrongness* that was induced in me when I was a boy of 14. She simply does not have the cognitive ability to come up with an explanation that can trivialize my experience *any more*. Let me just pen a few reflections about this state of affairs, because it is very important to realise what has happened *consistently* throughout these conversations.
(A) The first thing to notice is that, in all these scenarios, I am *defining* the terms of the debate. She is unable to do this with respect to what *I am doing*.
(B) I am able to do it *because* I am knowledgeable about the western culture. That is, I am not ignorant of the western culture the way I was when I was 14 or 24. Therefore, I am able to *tell* her that she does not understand her *own* culture as well as I understand hers.
(C) My principle of charity forbids me from transforming any culture, whether hers or mine, into a *bunch of idiots*. My conversational move in (5’) makes me *defend* the Jewish, Islamic, and Christian cultures because of this principle. Of course, the same principle makes me defend Indian traditions as ‘reasonable’ ones too.
(D) I am not making use of any fancy defensive ‘explanation’ – some or another kind of ‘symbolic’ explanation – (or even any ‘explanation’) that many Indians come up with to defend their own traditions. Such ‘explanations’ arise out of ignorance: both of their own traditions and, above all, of the western culture. They have very little *understanding* of the subjects they talk about, but the ‘conviction’ they know what is there to know is matched by none. (Some of the discussions on Sulekha have made this very obvious.) Most English-speaking Indian intellectuals are a pompous and empty lot: they talk and argue for the sake of doing so, and believe that ‘knowledge’ is a matter of providing citations and references to books. (I will be writing the article I promised you, as an answer to your question, where I will take up this issue in some detail.) But they have no depth of understanding regarding either their own traditions or those of the West. They are like the JNU ‘intellectuals’: empty, sanctimonious, convinced of their own intelligence, but full of hot air.
(E) “To understand my mother”, I wrote in the target article, “I needed to understand my mother-in-law”. What you see in my imaginary conversation with Wendy is an exemplification of this realisation. There will be no Indian Renaissance without breeding a *new* set of intellectuals. The current lot is not even worth the paper on which they write and produce so much nonsense. This might sound a harsh judgement. Undoubtedly, there are some fine individuals among them; I know a few of them personally myself. But this is how I look at the issue.
I wanted to say more. But that can wait. What I want from you is to reflect upon your question, which I have cited at the beginning of this article, in the light of what I have written in this post. I would like to hear of those reflections before I proceed further to tackle some of the other questions.
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear Tapori,
What are you trying to do? Make me feel silly for writing long posts or for writing in an academic style?! You do not have to apologise for your lack of ‘eloquence’: we are having a conversation, which means we need to understand each other, and this is not a contest for judging literary styles and capacities!
Your question: Is it desirable to have a model that can simulate social and cultural changes? I cannot see what good reason there is not to find it desirable. It would be eminently desirable. It will take some time though before we get there, but we will surely get there. Thanks to computers, we have a possibility of talking realistically about simulation. However, we have to still go a very long way before we are able to do so. We need to build some theories about social and cultural change and evolution; we need to develop suitable algorithms for simulating these changes; we need to develop more and different kinds of logics (non-monotonic ones) than exist today; we need to simulate some relevant aspects of human reasoning process … It is only now that we are *beginning* to simulate the evolutionary process and have developed some kinds of algorithms to do so. We need to overlay this with developments (hardly understood today) about social dynamics and cultural dynamics. And then study what could happen. So, it is definitely going to take some time. In all probability, we will first start simulating some fragments of social or cultural reality first (after all, this is what modelling means).
(a) It has always been my dream (and some kind of vague conviction that it can be done) to simulate the growth of ‘the Indian caste system’: I think a fundamental aspect of the ‘caste structure’ is recursive in nature. The only thing (!) one has to do is to isolate the principles (probably they will be four or five at the most) and use something like the genetic algorithm to simulate its growth, disintegration and recombination. (This is probably the *only* way to check the ‘truth’ of any theory about the nature of the caste system.)
(b) I think some aspects of the western culture are susceptible to a simulation as well. I think that the dynamics of its ‘norms’ and this culture’s basic strategies of social co-operation can be simulated. The empirical history would be the check for the accuracy of such a simulation.
(c) If both (a) and (b) can be done, then we can simulate an aspect of ‘colonialism’ as an interaction between (a) and (b). Again, we have the colonial history functioning as a check about what is simulated.
So, if this is your question, this is where I stand with respect to simulation. In all probability, simulation is *how* we can test the ‘truth’ of theories about the social and cultural world. That we have not been able to do this so far has more to do with the state of our knowledge than with the nature of cultural and social realities.
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear Tset,
There is something very funny about us Indians. Intelligent people prefer to call themselves ‘village idiots’, whereas the real idiots go around calling others ‘stupid’! (Just to help you place me, I call the second group ‘stupid’! Go figure, as the Americans say.)
In a way I have taken up this issue in my reply to Tapori and Vrikodara in #328. The only thing I want to add here is about the Chinese. There is another way to look at the feeling we have with respect to the (mainland) Chinese. What if it has nothing to do with age of the culture but with a fundamental *structural similarity* within the Asian culture? What if there is something called the ‘Asian culture’ the way one can speak of the Western culture? Prima facie, there is some ‘evidence’ (of sorts) that makes this appellation plausible. How could traditions that we call ‘Hinduism’ and ‘Buddhism’ so easily *migrate* across the whole of Asia? Remember this happened without any kind of centralised authority (military, political, economic or religious) enforcing it on the entire continent. The travelling ‘mendicants’, so many thousands years ago for heaven’s sake, ‘carried’ these traditions outwards. A plausible hypothesis would be: there must be something fundamentally similar (structurally similar?) between the different Asian cultures that makes them into the Asian culture. How about this: the strategy of social interaction is the same within the Asian culture? That is, one could speak in terms of the western way of ‘going-about’ (i.e. strategies of social interaction that characterises the western culture) and the Asian way of doing so. If only one could ‘isolate’ these strategies of social interaction today, we have the necessary formal tools (at this moment) to start simulating them tomorrow!
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear V C,
Frankly, I do not get you: either the points or the purpose of your posts. Your #274 has more the tone of a taunt than anything else: I ask a question to Tapori about his perception of the discussion (because he had expressed some concerns about the direction the discussion was taking), and you wonder whether *I might not have* considered other possibilities because I do not like them! Clearly, I have stepped on your toes somewhere along the way. If that is the case, may I ask your forgiveness?
Your recent post #280 is another case in point. Are you objecting to the universal quantifier (‘all’) when I formulate the issue? Or are you proposing some kind of a ‘functionalist’ explanation of cultural practices? [That is, do you want to say that the cultural practices which survive do so because they fulfil some needs? Or that the function of a cultural practice is to satisfy some need?] Or are you saying that cultural practices have reasons for their existence? (In which case, I do not see the purpose of the scare quotes around the word ‘reason’.) Perhaps, you simply want to say you disagree with me? Or is it something else? I do not know.
If you are objecting to the universal quantifier in my formulation (#278) of the issue, let me strengthen it: I do not believe that *any* cultural practice (i.e. a practice that has survived and been transmitted through successive generations) should be explained by attributing beliefs to its practitioners in such a way that the beliefs make the practitioners come out stupid. Why do I say this? There are primarily two reasons: our ignorance and the principle of ‘charity’. Let me explain.
(a) Our ignorance. We know very little about how cultures come into being, how they reproduce themselves and how they disappear. Until such a stage, where we are able to discuss each cultural practice (like rain dance, for example) individually, we should avoid making a virtue of our ignorance. One could come up with any number of explanations to day to explain a cultural practice like rain dance. Without exception, they would *all* be ad hoc in nature and, as such, the opposite of what a scientific explanation is. Therefore, my criticism of such explanations is to show their ad hoc character and, where possible, identify what makes them ad hoc. The purpose? To move forward in order to develop a science of cultures and cultural differences.
(b) The principle of charity. While both intelligence and stupidity are not exclusive prerogatives of any one particular set of people belonging to any one culture, explanations that attribute causal beliefs to the practitioners of, say, the rain dance do make an entire culture appear stupid. How? Assume for a moment we attribute to the people who perform the rain dance the following belief: they believe that their dance causes the rains to come. Precisely because of our ignorance about the dynamics of cultures, we are forced to make this attribution more general and say that *such is their notion of causal forces* that they believe in the causal efficacy of their rain dance. (We have no way, at the moment, to limit our attribution *only* to performing the rain dance.) Then the question becomes: are they not aware of the operation of causal forces? Do they not know that the boats are caused by their work on wood? Are they not aware that rains come when they do not dance and, therefore, that there are (at least) other causes? Do they have the concept of cause at all? So on and so forth. Because the practice is transmitted over generations, and it is considered important by that culture, we will be forced by the logic of our argument to extend the same attribution to the *culture as a whole*. Consequently, the entire culture is made to appear stupid. They may not have our (current) natural sciences, but my principle of charity tells me not to *assume* their stupidity because of this. In other words, I assume they are as reasonable as any other group of human beings. If it was as simple as believing in the causal efficacy of their dance, surely, I believe, many intelligent people in their culture would have questioned it, ridiculed it, and so on. My principle of charity tells me that if it has survived, then that is not because they have no notion of cause and causal forces. (Besides, I think such a group would not survive as a group for any period of time.) This is the principle of charity: assume that the other person (group, culture) is at least as reasonable as you (your group, your culture) and try to understand them thus. Consequently, my objections rest on at least on these two grounds.
(c) How defensible is this position? How ‘scientific’ is this? This is a philosophical assumption in whose favour I have some evidence. It is, however, important to note that this assumption functions as a *heuristic* of research and *not* as a premise in my arguments. Consequently, if my research forces me to say that some culture X or Y is stupid, I would do so. But that result must be scientifically demonstrable.
Have I explained myself sufficiently V C? I do hope that the apology, together with this explication, will make you desist from taking pot-shots just for the heck of it. Of course, the previous sentence is written under the assumption that you are indeed taking pot-shots. I might be wrong, but, forgive me, I cannot make sense of your posts any other way.
Friendly greetings
Balu
To answer the questions raised hitherto, one needs to have some understanding of what I have called the western normative ethics. One of the difficulties that hinder and understanding of this, however, is precisely what I have called the “colonial experience”. That is, the feeling that one knows what one is talking about and the absence of awareness that one does not understand it at all. I thought I could *force* the issue by engendering a cognitive dissonance, but it does not seem to have worked. So, let me try another route.
1. What is western normative ethics? It is a structure or style of thinking about ethics. What is its structure? It makes use of norms. What are norms? ‘Rules’ or ‘principles’ which have a characteristic structure that use certain concepts like the moral ‘ought’ and moral ‘ought not’. That is, some actions *ought* to be performed (i.e. they are obligatory); some actions *ought not* to be performed (i.e. they are forbidden) and some actions are neither of the two (i.e. they are permitted). What is important to note is that these norms (i.e. for example, some action is obligatory) hold irrespective of time, place, condition or the person. [For instance, the norm that one ought not to torture people because of their religious or political beliefs is indifferent to place, person, time, or culture. No human being ought *ever* torture another human being just because the latter subscribes to some or another political or religious belief.] In other words, norms are supposed to hold universally. From what I have said above, it logically follows that violation (or transgressing) some moral norm or the other is immoral (or unethical) and following some moral norm is moral (or ethical).
2. One of the important consequences of §1 is that *all norms* are universal in scope: that is, it is linguistically and logically *impossible* to have a particular norm or a context-dependent norm. Let me just illustrate with an example. Let us consider the norm that “Balu ought to reply to the Sulekha posts”. This appears as a particular (or context-dependent) norm. As soon is we ask ‘why’ we see that the chain of arguments leads us very quickly to a universal norm from which this particular norm is *derived*. Because “authors ought to reply to their readers, where it is possible to do so” or some such thing. (I have skipped the scenario because constructing any such scenario is easy.) This norm applies to all authors (in a position to reply to their readers) independent of their place, time, country or culture. This is what is meant by the universal nature of the norms. The particular norm is justified only because of the universal norm. If and only if the universal norm is justifiable is its derivation also justifiable.
3. When I speak of western ‘normative’ ethics, this is *all* I have in mind. In one sense, the confusion in the discussion is indicative of our lack of understanding: most of us *do not* understand this type of ethics. (We do not, that is, have the foggiest of what we are talking about, when we indulge in normative discussions.) At the same time, because the above ideas sound and look very familiar we think we know what we are talking about and, in fact, will go to absurd lengths to show that we know what we are talking about! An ignorance of the issue coupled to the conviction of knowledge of the same issue is the trajectory of discussions with Indians on ethics. It is extremely difficult to make them understand what ‘norms’ are; it is equally difficult to make them understand what ‘norms’ are not. (I shall shortly say why.) Let me begin by rephrasing what I have said in my earlier posts.
4. According to §1, Kannan’s clerk in the municipal office or his building contractor are immoral because they violate a moral norm. (‘One shall not take bribes’ or whatever else takes your fancy.) According to western normative ethics, one can be immoral, if and only if one violates some or another moral principle. [What, in this case, that principle is, is totally irrelevant to my discussion. The only requirement that this norm should be *universalisable*: it must apply at all people in the relevant situation – i.e. all clerks in the world, past, present and future -- irrespective of time, place, people, culture, etc.] Otherwise, not.
5. Not only is the phenomenon that we call “corruption” in India immoral but so is the caste system: the latter, because, let us say, it violates the norm that all human beings ought to be treated equal. Therefore, it is simple to condemn both corruption and the caste system as immoral because their existence and practice violate some or another moral norm. My opponent in the article simply represents such a person who, as I have said, reasons consistently, rationally and logically.
6. If you are with me so far (despite the drastically simplified presentation), I can now answer the following question: “where is the colonial awareness in accepting this ethics?” Let me begin with the following claims: this mode of ethical reasoning is *absent* in our culture. Even worse (or better!), we cannot formulate norms in the Indian (not just Indian, but let me leave that aside) languages! And further, we cannot even *understand* the western ethics because we are mapping this onto our Indian (non-normative) ethics. Do not expect me to argue for the truth of any of these claims: they will get taken care of (to some extent) in my book. Even one book is not sufficient to do this.
6.1. Let me begin with an example and an anecdote. The example first. In Indian languages, I claim, there is no equivalent of the “moral ought”. That is, we cannot say one “ought not” kill, one “ought to” respect their parents, the way one can do these in the European languages. In our languages, these sentences have the *same structure* as “one should not stand up and drink water”, “you should come home today” and such like. How can we know whether the “should” and “should not” (or “must” and “must not”) do not have the same logical and semantic properties in our languages that the moral “ought” and “ought not” have in the European languages? Simple. There exist systems of Deontic Logics (anyone with some understanding of the mathematical model theory can follow them) that very precisely delineate the property and behaviour of the moral concepts like ‘forbidden’, ‘obligatory’. That is, we can show that the Indian equivalents do not exhibit this logical and semantic behaviour.
6.2. One of the reasons that cultures like India were called ‘immoral’ by the Western thinkers lies here: there is nothing resembling a universal moral norm in our traditions. In the lens of the western culture, it appeared (logically) that all actions are permitted within the Indian culture. Hence the appellation ‘immoral’. This is also the reason why people like Shweder and others (please re-read the relevant portions of the article) transform us into moral imbeciles. (We have not even learnt to formulate the moral norms.)
6.3. However, this does not mean (that is where I would like to go) that the Indian cultures are immoral (or that we are moral imbeciles). I would like to show that non-normative ethics exist (i.e. ethics that works without using or needing norms to make ethical judgements) and that India is one such culture.
6.4. Let me take, as an example, one of the many frustrating discussions I have had with Indians on this subject. All of them have taken objection to my claim in §6.1 and want to ‘show’ that we too have the moral ought. In one such discussion in JNU, here is how one person tried to refute me: “the Hindi word ‘tha’ is the moral ought in Hindi.” (He had, most probably, a sentence like “Aap aiyse nahin karne tha” in mind.) I drew his attention to the fact that ‘tha’ was the past tense for ‘hai’ and that it was not the equivalent of “moral ought” at all.
6.5. Why did he think that this was a counter-example? He confused the ethical force in the above sentence with the structure of the sentence. He thought that I was denying that Indians had ethics, because, he felt, denying a normative language is to deny the possibility of doing ethics in the Indian languages. He was convinced, and probably still is, that he understands what western ethics is because he does ethics in his native language; because he learnt an English language through the medium of his own native language, he has understood the meaning of moral vocabulary in the English language.
6.6. Most (if not all) Sulekha readers are in this boat. They think they know what moral language in English means because they think they can use it. Actually, they do not understand it: they are talking ‘Indian’ while trying to be an ‘angreji’.
7. We have a colonial experience not only when we think that deva’s are ‘gods’, puja is ‘worship’ etc. We exhibit exactly the same experience when we say that “corruption is rampant in India” or that “the caste system is immoral”. Each and every time we ‘criticise’ the immorality of the Indians, we exhibit this colonisation. The tragedy is that we genuinely believe that we are modern, progressive, reform-minded when we do these things. My hope in writing the current article was to force an induced break in this experience. Would this all-too-brief-an-explanation, together with the article bring this about? I await your verdict. Only one request: please, please think about these issues and the article seriously.
Friendly greetings
Balu
About the issues in the discussion
Dear Friends,
Having reread most of the posts twice and having thought about the best way to proceed in this discussion, I thought of a possible line that might actually help us move forward. Let me see whether this works.
(A) Consider the following sequence of sentences:
1. All Indians are perfectly and fully moral.
2. All westerners are perfectly fully moral.
3. All Indians are immoral.
4. All westerners are immoral.
For sentences (1) and (2), all it takes is one instance of immorality to be proven wrong. Our proverbial municipal clerk would be immoral, and it would disprove the sentence (1). The same example could also confirm sentence (3); an instance of a moral act would also be a counter-example.
Now, when the municipal clerk is brought out as an instance, what exactly is its status? Is it intended as an example of (3) or as a counter example to (1)? Probably neither, because no one on this board believes either (1) or (3). Consequently, it can illustrate another claim:
5. Some Indians are immoral.
This is undisputed; and we all take (5) to be true. In fact, we all believe
6. Some westerners are immoral.
Or, more generically,
7. There are immoral people in both the west and India.
So, the municipal clerk (and something analogous in the west) would be seen as a confirmation of the sentence (7). Since nobody is disputing this, and yet there is a dispute about the municipal clerk, the sentence (7) is not at issue either.
(B) Let us see whether the issue is about corruption. To begin with, let us simply say that “immorality=corruption”. But this time, let us begin with the following sentence:
8. Some Indians are corrupt.
No argument from any one. (To me, this is true as much as the claim: some westerners are corrupt, some Africans are corrupt, some Asians are corrupt and some American-Indians are corrupt.) The dispute about the municipal clerk cannot be with respect to the above either. How about
9. All Indians are corrupt.
Most of us disagree with this; most of us do not believe it to be true either. In any case, those with whom I am arguing (Kannan, Arun, Arjun, Tapori, Cynical, to name just a few) do not definitely subscribe to this. Therefore, the municipal clerk example is not seen by any of us as an example of sentence (9).
So, if the example of the municipal clerk, or the building contractor, is not an example of either (8) or (9), what else is it an example of or counter example to? Logically, there is only one option left:
10. No Indian is corrupt.
But every one of us, including me, believe sentence (8) to be true. From this it follows that (10) is false. To make it clear, I do not subscribe to sentence (10) at all.
So, we are left with a problem. If there is consensus among us about which of the above sentences are true, and which are false, why are we still disputing? Why do people feel obliged to come with instances like the municipal clerk or the building contractor? *What is it an example of, what is it a counter-example to*? What precisely are we disputing?
(C) There is also another common agreement because of the definitional equivalence. All acts of corruption and ethics are *individual* acts, i.e., individuals are either corrupt (immoral) or not corrupt (moral). So, we cannot be disagreeing about this either. So, why do people feel the urge to come with some or another instance, some argument or the other, and have a dispute with me? Where do we disagree?
(D) The next step is to break the definitional equivalence. Two of the issues about which there could be a dispute (of the possible four):
11. Some corrupt acts are moral.
12. Some non-corrupt acts are not immoral.
There has been some discussion about the sentence (11), but at a very late stage in the argument. (Especially in my post to Arun, where I invite him to think of scenario’s where 11 could be true, using the Indian psychology). But whatever it may be, the clerk and the building contractor could not be about this: I kept insisting that one is *not* defending that corruption is either morally good or bad, and that one needed to understand what it was before making a moral judgement either way.
So, what have we been discussing all along, and where is the dispute to be located?
(E) Here is my hypothesis. The discussion has been about the sentence “corruption is a social phenomenon” and what we understand this sentence means. We are at loggerheads about the scope of this sentence. I believe you do not quite appreciate the consequences of your interpretation. Let me approach my hypothesis by steps as well.
(F) Consider the following sentences:
13 There are more corrupt Indians than there are corrupt westerners.
14 There are more corrupt persons in India than elsewhere.
15 In terms of the percentage of corrupt to non-corrupt people, India ranks 73rd in the list of nations.
These are some possible ways of interpreting the claim that “India is a corrupt nation”. None of these are acceptable because no research has been done by anyone, anywhere in the world, at anytime that can provide us with any semblance of evidence that can justify such a statement.
Quite obviously, that claim that India is a corrupt nation (or that corruption is rampant in India) cannot refer to statements like above. Let us bring in the organisation to which the municipal clerk belongs, in order to see whether it makes sense.
16 The Indian bureaucracy is corrupt.
17 In 72 other nations, bureaucracy is less corrupt.
18 The bureaucracy in some countries is more corrupt than bureaucracy elsewhere.
19 The manner in which the bureaucracy, the police, the justice system is corrupt in India is different from the way similar organisations are corrupt in the USA.
The sentence is (16) is true, but no implications follow from this. May be, that is because all bureaucracies are corrupt: because of Nehruvian Socialism in India, Fascism in Germany, Democracy in the US, etc. etc. In other words, the claim could be about the organisation that the bureaucracy is. But, of course, it is not: no one means that only ‘the Indian bureaucracy is corrupt’, when they say that India is corrupt. Besides, no one has done a comparative research. So, we have no clue about what 17 through 19 say or do not say. Our dispute on this board, consequently, cannot be about any of the above sentences.
Suppose we add government to this list. Consider the following:
20 The Indian bureaucracy and the Indian government are corrupt.
21 The existence of corrupt organisations makes a culture or a nation corrupt.
22 If the society feeds corruption, such a society is corrupt.
Now, I have a feeling we are getting somewhere in the process of making sense of the statement that India is a corrupt country. But, let us take small steps here. Regarding (21) and (22) the following could be said: the existence of organised crime in all societies would make all societies corrupt. But no one says that America is a corrupt nation because the organised crime exists and grows in America. So, let us leave aside these two sentences for the time being and focus on (20).
23 The present incumbents in bureaucracy and government are corrupt.
This is not what is meant when one says that India is a corrupt country or that corruption is eating into the innards of the country. What one means is something stronger, more like,
24 The Indian *regime* is corrupt: not merely the present incumbents but the Indian *system* of bureaucracy and politics.
But (24) does not imply that the rule of law and democracy are corrupt. These institutions are not corrupt.
25 The *way* the Indians *use* these modern institutions is corrupt. Or, The Indian way is corrupt.
What is this Indian way? Some kinds of examples.
26 Such is the nature of corruption in India that anyone who has to do business in India is forced to play the same game.
27 One cannot do business in India without paying bribes.
In other words, such is the *Indian way* that even those who want to play fair and square are *forced* into playing the game of corruption. These business people themselves get corrupted because, much like the building contractor, they are forced to pay bribes in order to stay alive.
28 This means, that such is the pattern of interactions within the Indian society that anyone who wants to interact with them is forced to become corrupt himself. Or, pithily formulated,
29 One is taught to relate in a corrupt way to other people.
Both (29) and (30) imply the following:
30 One is not only corrupt; one corrupts the other as well. That is, ‘their’ (i.e. the Indian) way of interacting breeds corruption.
From this, it is a child’s play (almost) to go to the following conclusions:
31 Corruption continues to grow in India because more and more people are taught to become corrupt.
32 That is, more of more aspects of cultural life come under the scope of corruption.
33 The process of learning to be corrupt is part of the Indian culture and society.
34 A society or a culture teaches its members some ways of interacting with each other. If these ways are themselves corrupt, the society or nation is corrupt.
In other words, the *commonsense* claims (and the scholarly treatises) about ‘corruption in India’ involve the above statements. This is what I think most of you are defending *without* knowing it (or even explicitly rejecting it). Why do I say so?
(G) Because, now the examples of the clerk and the contractor begin to make sense. They are examples of the fact that India is corrupt. It does not mean the sentence (8) [i.e., some Indians are corrupt] but sentences 30 through 35. You feel that I am saying something else, something different from the commonsense claims you are putting forward. Therefore, you keep coming with examples and arguments that make no sense, have no point or purpose, *at first sight*. But they do make sense. If you realise that a ‘simple’ statement like that of the Transparency International has its own logic and takes you irresistibly towards one goal, you will also realise that your examples and arguments have but one purpose: to ‘show’ that India is corrupt in the sense we have just seen.
(H) When immorality increases in the West, people do not say the ‘west is an immoral culture’ because it *encourages* immorality. They bemoan this fact and say that the ‘fundamental’ western values (or Christian values) need to be revived. When immorality (say corruption) increases in India, people do not say the same and call for a revival of Indian values. No, they say that the Indian culture and society are corrupt. Why? Because the values that the Indian society embody are not considered moral.
(I) In other words, the discussions on this board illustrate the colonial consciousness I refer to in the article. Even when we *want to*, it is not that simple to break out of this consciousness. Even when we talk about our own experiences in India, we remain within the ambit of colonised consciousness. Because, “Colonialism”, as I have repeated a number of times already, “is about denying the colonised peoples and cultures their own experiences; of making them aliens to themselves; of actively preventing any description of their own experiences except in terms defined by the colonisers.”
(J) I am, of course, aware that I have sketched out but a path in the above paragraphs. This is not the only path, but one I found to be the simplest to show the logic involved in the statement that ‘India is corrupt’. I say your discussions suggest that you are merely following the logic of this statement. By saying this, I might alienate some of you. If that comes to pass, so be it. As I have said in another post, I can only help you think, I cannot convert you. You need to put in the effort and all I can provide are some tips.
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear Kannan,
1. Regarding your first point. It is important to keep the general issue in mind, while arguing about specifics. The ‘corruption’ we are talking about refers to the social phenomenon in India which makes about 20% of the adult population into immoral people. When I said that I refuse to call the clerk ‘corrupt’ or that the issue I raise is anterior, I am talking about this phenomenon. Your grandmother, you said, uses the word ‘cheating’ (something like the Hindi ‘Dhoka’ probably). One could, for instance, use this word to describe the individual action of the clerk as an unethical one without *making* it into corruption.
Are these two conversationally synonymous? I suppose it depends on the person with whom you are having a conversation, the context and the language used.
The distinction, you say, is in my head. You are right, of course. Why is this distinction useful? Well, I am a bit surprised that you ask this question on this thread. The article tries to show that some logical conclusions (about our social structure, about the nature of ethics) follow if we use the word ‘corruption’ the way it is used to describe the Indian society. I am not willing to buy any of them. That is why I resist using the word corruption to describe the action of the municipal clerk or the building contractor or whoever else. This is the first reason. (I use a variant of the reductio et absurdum argument to show why we better make the distinction. Obviously, I have not made this point with the clarity I desire.)
There is a second reason. Let us continue using the examples of the clerk or the building contractor or a telephone linesman. The bribes you pay do not merely line the pockets of these individuals without them being *distributed* within the hierarchy of whatever organisation to which these people belong (the clerk and the linesman) or the one to whom (say the assistant engineer) the contractor has paid. You do realise, of course, that there is an enormous *integrity* within this hierarchy. The bribes are distributed among the relevant people in a very honest way. Not only that. Once one pays the bribe, one feels that one is morally entitled to the service one has paid a bribe for. The one who receives the bribe also feels that he is morally obligated to provide you with the necessary service once he has received the bribe. You are not cheated from this entitlement once you have paid the bribe. What you get is what you pay for. These index the *extraordinary integrity* of the bribe-receiving structures. In fact, these individuals lose their credibility and trustworthiness (look at the words I am using) if they do not perform after they have received the bribe. That is, a tremendous trust and honesty is required from both the parties. It is almost as though that in this ‘perverse’ (these scare quotes are red flags) system, there is an extraordinary honesty and integrity. Why, if they were corrupt, could they not tell you to take a hike after they receive bribes? Because, the so-called corruption works if and only if those who are ‘corrupt’ are honest and reliable!
The above is the second side to the so-called corruption in the Indian society. What I am trying to do is make use realise that, because the so-called corruption involves both *honesty* and *bribes*, to figure out what this phenomenon is requires that we go beyond mere ethical characterisations the way the western culture uses them.
To repeat myself, let us first find out what this phenomenon is which involves both these dimensions. To simply call it corruption not only has implausible consequences but also blinds us to the issues.
These are two of the reasons why I want to distinguish between ethically bad action and corruption. There are more, but they are irrelevant in the present context.
2. About your second point regarding my shoddy rhetorical reasoning. In a way, I have implicitly answered it. I shall waive my ‘right’ to answer it explicitly.
3. I do not see why you become polemical. Precisely *because* I was talking to a non-western, and presumably an Indian audience, I did not speak of the second aspect to corruption. I thought that you would be familiar with it. To a western audience, that would have been my first point. In a very simplified fashion, I would have said, using the word corruption to describe a social phenomenon in India leads one to say the following: Indian society is corrupt if and only if the ‘corrupt’ Indians are individually ethically good. (Each ‘corrupt’ individual has to be extraordinarily ethical, if corruption has to work at a social level.) However, a ‘corrupt’ individual cannot be ethically good. The problem I have had with the western audience is that they do not believe that corruption ‘works’. They are simply hung up on its alleged immorality. I thought that an Indian audience would have had enough experience with ‘corruption’ to see where I was getting at…
Friendly greetings
Balu
Dear Arun,
1. The translation is a plausible one when we want to translate it into *English* or some other European language. It is plausible when the *context* is a moral one (i.e. we know what the context is before the translation takes place) and we add the word ‘ought’ because it would not otherwise be syntactically well-formed. This should already tell us that we are *adding* ‘ought’ in English in order to *signal* that it is a moral statement. This is enough to alert us to what I have drawn attention to.
2. You describe your process of moral reasoning and ask the question whether this is western normative ethics. Let me quote from my 1985 paper, which you so kindly transformed into an electronic version:
“An example might illustrate the point. (I have taken this from one of my experiences where I was discussing a moral issue with a group of philosophers.) Let us say that ‘X’ does something which ‘Y’ considers corrupt. To keep it simple, let us say that ‘Y’ expresses the aforementioned judgement. In order to express it, or persuade others about the validity of this moral judgement, ‘Y’ will have to do something like this:
(a) Y defines ‘corruption’: “All actions which exhibit ________ properties are corrupt”
(b) Y’s ‘ethical principle’ (itself justified): “All actions which satisfy _______ (the principle) are moral”.
(c) Y infers: “Because all corrupt actions violate principle (b), all corrupt actions are immoral”.
(d) Y describes: “________ action of X shows _______ properties”.
(e) Y infers: “By definition, therefore, X’s action is corrupt”.
(f) Y argues: “All corrupt actions are immoral”. (reiteration c)
“X’s action is corrupt”. (reiteration e)
(g) Y infers: “Therefore, X’s action is immoral”
The goal of Western ethical philosophers is to construct a theory, which allows us to justify moral judgements or moral actions and choices in the above, albeit simplified, manner.”
You can see for yourself whether your moral reasoning proceeds this way or not.
3. You say that the context helps you decide which principle has to be modified, which to discard. Within the western normative ethics, the context is *irrelevant* to the process of deliberation. Maximally, what ‘contexts’ do is create the so-called ethical dilemmas, i.e. situations where the moral principles conflict. ‘So-called’, because most ethical philosophers do not believe that ethical principles could, *in principle*, be in conflict. They ascribe the empirical conflict either to the insufficient information the agent has, or to the moral imperfection of the actual world, or to the absence of a good theory of ethics which creates a hierarchy of norms, or whatever else. That is because, within the western normative ethics, it is not possible for an ethical principle to impose an *immoral* obligation. If it does so, such a principle *has to be immoral*. (In a situation involving a moral dilemma, following any one ethical principle entails violating the other moral principle. In this sense, the first imposes an immoral obligation to violate the second.)
One of the most popular ways to account for a moral dilemma has been to speak of two kinds of obligations: a prima facie obligation and an actual obligation. Prima facie obligations refer to situations involving moral conflict (i.e. a moral dilemma). They say that this is merely an apparent conflict (i.e. a prima facie conflict) and not ‘real’ at all. In a morally perfect world, they say, there could be no conflict of moral principles. So, all you have to do is ‘accept’ that ours is a morally *imperfect* world, where it appears as though we have conflicting obligations when there could be no such conflicts between moral obligations. In simple terms: they say moral dilemmas tell us that we live in a morally imperfect world but nothing about the nature of moral principles. Moral principles could *never* in conflict. In other words, moral dilemmas are a curse on humankind; they show us that we are imperfect creatures.
Do these ideas resonate with your understanding of morality? If they do not, it shows that you do not know what ‘ought’ means (philosophically speaking).
4. I beg to disagree with you as to why there is no cognitive dissonance. According to me, it has to do with what it means to have a colonial experience. But that does not matter. You say I have to show that Kannan’s clerk is not corrupt. Let us see what *exactly* you are asking me to do.
Am I to show that according to Indian ethics, the action of the clerk is ethically good? That is to say, are there *situations* where one could call the actions of the clerk an ethically good act? Surely Arun, if you use your Indian psychology, you can think of any number of such situations. Imagine that the clerk is looking after abandoned children of prostitutes, helping in their education, keeping them away from the streets and crime. Imagine further too that he asks bribe only from those he thinks are capable of paying them and this money goes entirely to feed these children. Is your Indian psychology willing to call this clerk corrupt? Or even unethical?
Am I to show that the clerk is ‘corrupt’ and ethically good at the same time? See my recent answer to Kannan’s post. The social phenomenon of corruption *works* if and only if the individuals are honest and possess integrity.
In other words, there are at least two possible routes one could travel in order to have a cognitive dissonance. Strangely though, *both* require using the ‘Indian-ness’ in us.
Friendly greetings
Balu