The View from Hell

Just another WordPress.com site

Archive for the ‘justice’ Category

Suicide and Justice

with 10 comments

Is a potential suicide a “flight risk”?

Woman charged with causing fatal I-95 crash put on suicide watch

STAMFORD — A Superior Court judge on Monday set bond at $35,000 for the Hartford woman accused of causing a crash that killed two people over the weekend on Interstate 95 in Darien.

Yadira Torres, 26, of 100 Benton St., Hartford, was put on suicide watch after her arraignment at state Superior Court in Stamford, where she faces two counts of second-degree manslaughter and single charges of reckless driving and driving under the influence of alcohol. Around 6 a.m. Saturday she was driving a rented 2010 Dodge Caliber SXT north on I-95 when she tried to pass a tractor-trailer but lost control and hit it, according to a State Police accident report. (ctpost.com)

The most interesting thing is that the prosecutor argued that the defendant is a flight risk in large part based on her being “distraught” over what happened:

Before the ruling Assistant State’s Attorney David Applegate argued Torres was a flight-risk.

“The defendant does pose a flight risk due to the serious charges and the anxiety that attorney Crosland has pointed out,” Applegate said, referring to earlier remarks from Crosland that detailed his client’s distraught state of mind over the fatal crash.

Is killing yourself the same as flight from justice?

In response to an article describing a particularly spectacular suicide, that is, a leap from the world’s tallest building, one commenter asserts:

The man surely needed psychological help. Sane people do not commit suicide unless they’re evading public humiliation & arrest (avoiding justice).

The commenter implicitly accepts a dichotomy: suicide is either the result of insanity, or a moral wrong.

Seemingly sane people commit suicide all the time in order to avoid “public humiliation & arrest” or other forms of social death. It is impossible to maintain the conviction that only insane people commit suicide when the plain evidence is to the contrary: sane people frequently commit suicide for completely understandable reasons.

People who commit certain actions must suffer the socially-imposed consequences we deem appropriate. We chase them down if they run away. We lock them up. We force them to participate in our reality.

For the good of whom, though? Certainly not their own. The good of the victims, perhaps – if any remain – although it must be an ambivalent and diffuse sort of “good,” in that case.

Perhaps it is for the good of the future victims of similar actions. If people knew they could just commit suicide instantly and painlessly at any moment – like switching a computer game off – would that be incredibly dangerous? Would people commit massively antisocial acts knowing they can always unplug if shit gets too real?

I think they might. And I think this shows us something very important about existence:

In actual, real-life decisions that we can observe, people do seem to choose death over negative social consequences.

This demonstrates that life is inherently less valuable, to individuals, than avoiding social pain.

It puts an upper bound on the value of the so-called precious gift of life.

Advertisements

Written by Sister Y

May 10, 2011 at 4:24 pm

Transdimensional Justice Monster

with 11 comments

From Wikipedia, 2108 C.E.:

For the band, see Transdimensional Justice Monster (band).

The phrase “transdimensional justice monster” refers to an as-yet-hypothetical device for ensuring that a newly-created universe is ethical. Interest in the development of a functional TJM has increased in recent megaseconds, largely due to rumors that the moratorium on the creation of gladiator universes may be extended to market universes.

Gladiator universes, such as the universe underlying our own base reality,* are universes in which sentient beings with non-identical goals exist and compete, whose ultimate mechanism for distribution of utility between beings is the use of force. Research into the ancient problem of welfare comparison between sentient beings has produced several conceptions of non-gladiator interpersonal justice; the TJM is merely a continuation of this endeavor.

Market universes attempt to resolve the problem of distributing scarce resources among sentient beings by requiring mutual consent for transfers. Markets may be seen as an early human attempt to simulate the TJM; this hypothesis is supported by the reification of the market in the figurative term “the invisible hand.”

Recently, so-called Rawls universes have been proposed as a more ethical alternative to market universes. To create a Rawls universe, a universe creator would be required to enter his own universe and live out his life inside it, but would be assigned randomly to a body within this newly-created universe. Critics argue that this does not ensure justice, as requiring a universe creator to be born into a single life in his universe fails to ensure that he adequately internalize the aggregate risk faced by his entire created population over all its generations. In addition, the particular values of the universe creator are unlikely to adequately predict the values of new beings in new universes.

The TJM avoids the problems of market universes and Rawls universes alike. A transdimensional justice monster envelops and, in a sense, becomes all the experiencing beings in a given universe at once. While the TJM feels the happiness and pain of all its sub-beings, it also retains the capacity to experience their loneliness and alienation as they each experience it. Since the TJM experiences everything that its sub-beings do, when the TJM makes a transfer of utility between its sub-beings, this transfer is by its nature just. The TJM even ensures intertemporal justice, because by being transdimensional, it can adjust utility between beings alive at different times throughout the life of the universe.

The TJM gives a population of experiencing beings an important characteristic of a single individual: the ability to fairly distribute hardship and pleasure among its members. A single individual might do this by transferring weight from one foot to another and adjusting itself until its position is comfortable. A TJM may do this in much the same manner – by transferring utility-bearing items or services from one sub-being to another, or even by allowing a miserable sub-being to die.

In practice, this last option (causing miserable sub-beings to die) has proven the greatest barrier to producing a functional TJM. No universe simulation equipped with a TJM has yet resulted in a universe with any sentient beings left alive. However, universe creation enthusiasts are hopeful that this problem can be resolved, and a sustainable, just universe can be created in which all experiencing beings achieve a standard of utility above death-desiring misery.


* As our base universe arose through stochastic processes, it is not affected by the moratorium.

Named for the 20th century American philosopher John Rawls, who proposed an influential model for distributive justice. Rawls utilized the concepts of the original position and the veil of ignorance to imagine a society genuinely based on the consent of its members. Putative features of this hypothetical purely-consensual society could then ethically be applied to actual universes to make them more just. The modern conception of the Rawls universe represents, at best, a caricature of Rawls’ method. In a true Rawls universe, all potential beings would need to consent to be part of the universe prior to its creation, blind to their particular future situation.

Written by Sister Y

February 24, 2011 at 8:15 pm

We Live In The Anarcho-Capitalist Utopia

with 11 comments

In my previous essay, “Markets Are Ungrounded,” I undertook to list some of the regulations that are necessary for a market to function. The idea of a “meta-market” is particularly tempting to those opposed to “government” regulation – the idea that we might not only choose our transactions, but choose the rules for our transactions. I think this is an impossible, incoherent fantasy.

In The Machinery of Freedom, David Friedman defines government as “an agency of legitimized coercion.” Friedman believes that government should not exist, and that the functions currently performed by government either should not exist or should be undertaken by private individuals and groups.

He says:

The special characteristic that distinguishes governments from other agencies of coercion (such as ordinary criminal gangs) is that most people accept government coercion as normal and proper. The same act that is regarded as coercive when done by a private individual seems legitimate if done by an agent of the government. (In “What is Anarchy? What is government?”)

Further, Friedman defines “coercion” as “the violation of what people in a
particular society believe to be the rights of individuals with respect to other individuals.”

So how would these private groups work to perform functions now performed by government – for instance, preventing and punishing crimes? Friedman imagines that this would all be done voluntarily – that is, by individuals subscribing to protection agencies that use force to protect citizens from violations of their rights (as defined by the private, competing protection agencies). These protection agencies would then patronize private courts who would compete for jurisdiction.

Here is my problem with the Friedman model: it’s exactly the system that exists today, and has always existed since the beginning of human kind.

At the deepest level, Friedman is not proposing any change to the current system(s) of government at work in the world today.

Friedman proposes not regulations for a market, but a system of markets and meta-markets, a system that resolves everything through voluntary transactions. However, this is an illusion. Ultimately, it can’t be “markets all the way down” (or up) – competing protection agencies use force, and the balance of force is what supposedly protects citizens. The “free market” is at the deepest level founded upon force.

This is exactly the situation that we have today.

For instance, our Federal and state governments today compete with various forms of organized crime, which fill the institutional vacuums created by the “legitimate” governments denying contract enforcement to some transactions. These are perfect examples of competing protection agencies under the David Friedman model.

Let me repeat Friedman’s definition of coercion: “the violation of what people in a
particular society believe to be the rights of individuals with respect to other individuals.”

Friedman wants to eliminate this “coercion” thing, at least by governments.

But the protection agencies themselves define what coercion is, for their subscribers. And they enforce their definitions by force.

How is that any different from . . . all of human history? Are not all anarcho-capitalist protection agencies “agencies of legitimized coercion”?

There is no way to protect oneself from coercion (whatever one’s definition of this is) without engaging in the coercion of others.

(In case it’s not clear, I’m happy to be straightened out here – I’d much rather understand the dimensions of the problem than be “right.”)

Written by Sister Y

January 24, 2011 at 5:16 pm

Unexpiated Tears: Ivan Karamazov on Justice from Subsequent Events

with 5 comments

” . . . I’ve collected a great, great deal about Russian children, Alyosha. There was a little girl of five who was hated by her father and mother, ‘most worthy and respectable people, of good education and breeding.’ You see, I must repeat again, it is a peculiar characteristic of many people, this love of torturing children, and children only. To all other types of humanity these torturers behave mildly and benevolently, like cultivated and humane Europeans; but they are very fond of tormenting children, even fond of children themselves in that sense. It’s just their defenselessness that tempts the tormentor, just the angelic confidence of the child who has no refuge and no appeal, that sets his vile blood on fire. In every man, of course, a demon lies hidden—the demon of rage, the demon of lustful heat at the screams of the tortured victim, the demon of lawlessness let off the chain, the demon of diseases that follow on vice, gout, kidney disease, and so on.

“This poor child of five was subjected to every possible torture by those cultivated parents. They beat her, thrashed her, kicked her for no reason till her body was one bruise. Then, they went to greater refinements of cruelty—shut her up all night in the cold and frost in a privy, and because she didn’t ask to be taken up at night (as though a child of five sleeping its angelic, sound sleep could be trained to wake and ask), they smeared her face and filled her mouth with excrement, and it was her mother, her mother did this. And that mother could sleep, hearing the poor child’s groans! Can you understand why a little creature, who can’t even understand what’s done to her, should beat her little aching heart with her tiny fist in the dark and the cold, and weep her meek unresentful tears to dear, kind God to protect her? Do you understand that, friend and brother, you pious and humble novice? Do you understand why this infamy must be and is permitted? Without it, I am told, man could not have existed on earth, for he could not have known good and evil. Why should he know that diabolical good and evil when it costs so much? Why, the whole world of knowledge is not worth that child’s prayer to ‘dear, kind God’! I say nothing of the sufferings of grown-up people, they have eaten the apple, damn them, and the devil take them all! But these little ones! I am making you suffer, Alyosha, you are not yourself. I’ll leave off if you like.”

“Never mind. I want to suffer too,” muttered Alyosha.

“One picture, only one more, because it’s so curious, so characteristic, and I have only just read it in some collection of Russian antiquities. I’ve forgotten the name. I must look it up. It was in the darkest days of serfdom at the beginning of the century, and long live the Liberator of the People! There was in those days a general of aristocratic connections, the owner of great estates, one of those men—somewhat exceptional, I believe, even then—who, retiring from the service into a life of leisure, are convinced that they’ve earned absolute power over the lives of their subjects. There were such men then. So our general, settled on his property of two thousand souls, lives in pomp, and domineers over his poor neighbors as though they were dependents and buffoons. He has kennels of hundreds of hounds and nearly a hundred dog-boys—all mounted, and in uniform. One day a serf-boy, a little child of eight, threw a stone in play and hurt the paw of the general’s favorite hound. ‘Why is my favorite dog lame?’ He is told that the boy threw a stone that hurt the dog’s paw. ‘So you did it.’ The general looked the child up and down. ‘Take him.’ He was taken—taken from his mother and kept shut up all night. Early that morning the general comes out on horseback, with the hounds, his dependents, dog-boys, and huntsmen, all mounted around him in full hunting parade. The servants are summoned for their edification, and in front of them all stands the mother of the child. The child is brought from the lock-up. It’s a gloomy, cold, foggy autumn day, a capital day for hunting. The general orders the child to be undressed; the child is stripped naked. He shivers, numb with terror, not daring to cry…. ‘Make him run,’ commands the general. ‘Run! run!’ shout the dog-boys. The boy runs…. ‘At him!’ yells the general, and he sets the whole pack of hounds on the child. The hounds catch him, and tear him to pieces before his mother’s eyes!… I believe the general was afterwards declared incapable of administering his estates. Well—what did he deserve? To be shot? To be shot for the satisfaction of our moral feelings? Speak, Alyosha!”

“To be shot,” murmured Alyosha, lifting his eyes to Ivan with a pale, twisted smile.

“Bravo!” cried Ivan, delighted. “If even you say so…. You’re a pretty monk! So there is a little devil sitting in your heart, Alyosha Karamazov!”

“What I said was absurd, but—”

“That’s just the point, that ‘but’!” cried Ivan. “Let me tell you, novice, that the absurd is only too necessary on earth. The world stands on absurdities, and perhaps nothing would have come to pass in it without them. We know what we know!”

“What do you know?”

“I understand nothing,” Ivan went on, as though in delirium. “I don’t want to understand anything now. I want to stick to the fact. I made up my mind long ago not to understand. If I try to understand anything, I shall be false to the fact, and I have determined to stick to the fact.”

“Why are you trying me?” Alyosha cried, with sudden distress. “Will you say what you mean at last?”

“Of course, I will; that’s what I’ve been leading up to. You are dear to me, I don’t want to let you go, and I won’t give you up to your Zossima.”

Ivan for a minute was silent, his face became all at once very sad.

“Listen! I took the case of children only to make my case clearer. Of the other tears of humanity with which the earth is soaked from its crust to its center, I will say nothing. I have narrowed my subject on purpose. I am a bug, and I recognize in all humility that I cannot understand why the world is arranged as it is. Men are themselves to blame, I suppose; they were given paradise, they wanted freedom, and stole fire from heaven, though they knew they would become unhappy, so there is no need to pity them. With my pitiful, earthly, Euclidian understanding, all I know is that there is suffering and that there are none guilty; that cause follows effect, simply and directly; that everything flows and finds its level—but that’s only Euclidian nonsense, I know that, and I can’t consent to live by it! What comfort is it to me that there are none guilty and that cause follows effect simply and directly, and that I know it?—I must have justice, or I will destroy myself. And not justice in some remote infinite time and space, but here on earth, and that I could see myself. I have believed in it. I want to see it, and if I am dead by then, let me rise again, for if it all happens without me, it will be too unfair. Surely I haven’t suffered, simply that I, my crimes and my sufferings, may manure the soil of the future harmony for somebody else. I want to see with my own eyes the hind lie down with the lion and the victim rise up and embrace his murderer. I want to be there when every one suddenly understands what it has all been for. All the religions of the world are built on this longing, and I am a believer. But then there are the children, and what am I to do about them? That’s a question I can’t answer. For the hundredth time I repeat, there are numbers of questions, but I’ve only taken the children, because in their case what I mean is so unanswerably clear. Listen! If all must suffer to pay for the eternal harmony, what have children to do with it, tell me, please? It’s beyond all comprehension why they should suffer, and why they should pay for the harmony. Why should they, too, furnish material to enrich the soil for the harmony of the future? I understand solidarity in sin among men. I understand solidarity in retribution, too; but there can be no such solidarity with children. And if it is really true that they must share responsibility for all their fathers’ crimes, such a truth is not of this world and is beyond my comprehension. Some jester will say, perhaps, that the child would have grown up and have sinned, but you see he didn’t grow up, he was torn to pieces by the dogs, at eight years old. Oh, Alyosha, I am not blaspheming! I understand, of course, what an upheaval of the universe it will be, when everything in heaven and earth blends in one hymn of praise and everything that lives and has lived cries aloud: ‘Thou art just, O Lord, for Thy ways are revealed.’ When the mother embraces the fiend who threw her child to the dogs, and all three cry aloud with tears, ‘Thou art just, O Lord!’ then, of course, the crown of knowledge will be reached and all will be made clear. But what pulls me up here is that I can’t accept that harmony. And while I am on earth, I make haste to take my own measures. You see, Alyosha, perhaps it really may happen that if I live to that moment, or rise again to see it, I, too, perhaps, may cry aloud with the rest, looking at the mother embracing the child’s torturer, ‘Thou art just, O Lord!’ but I don’t want to cry aloud then. While there is still time, I hasten to protect myself, and so I renounce the higher harmony altogether. It’s not worth the tears of that one tortured child who beat itself on the breast with its little fist and prayed in its stinking outhouse, with its unexpiated tears to ‘dear, kind God’! It’s not worth it, because those tears are unatoned for. They must be atoned for, or there can be no harmony. But how? How are you going to atone for them? Is it possible? By their being avenged? But what do I care for avenging them? What do I care for a hell for oppressors? What good can hell do, since those children have already been tortured? And what becomes of harmony, if there is hell? I want to forgive. I want to embrace. I don’t want more suffering. And if the sufferings of children go to swell the sum of sufferings which was necessary to pay for truth, then I protest that the truth is not worth such a price. I don’t want the mother to embrace the oppressor who threw her son to the dogs! She dare not forgive him! Let her forgive him for herself, if she will, let her forgive the torturer for the immeasurable suffering of her mother’s heart. But the sufferings of her tortured child she has no right to forgive; she dare not forgive the torturer, even if the child were to forgive him! And if that is so, if they dare not forgive, what becomes of harmony? Is there in the whole world a being who would have the right to forgive and could forgive? I don’t want harmony. From love for humanity I don’t want it. I would rather be left with the unavenged suffering. I would rather remain with my unavenged suffering and unsatisfied indignation, even if I were wrong. Besides, too high a price is asked for harmony; it’s beyond our means to pay so much to enter on it. And so I hasten to give back my entrance ticket, and if I am an honest man I am bound to give it back as soon as possible. And that I am doing. It’s not God that I don’t accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return Him the ticket.”

—”Rebellion,” from Fyodor Dostoevsky, Brothers Karamazov, Constance Garnett, transl.

Written by Sister Y

January 14, 2011 at 4:11 am

Posted in children, desert, justice