Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Beans

They’re not like peaces or squash. Plumpness isn’t for them. They like being lean, as if for the narrow path. The beans themselves sit quietly inside their green pods. Instinctively one picks with care, never tearing down he fine vine, never not noticing their rips bodies, or feeling their willingness for the pot, for the fire.

I have thought sometimes that something-I can’t name it- - watches as I walk the rows, accepting the gift of their lives to assist mine.

I know what you think: this is foolishness. They’re only vegetables. Even the blossoms with which they begin are small and pale, hardly significant. Our hands, or minds, our feet hold more intelligence. With this I have no quarrel.

But, what about virtue?

I am working with a group of philosophers who are developing the understanding of animals as having virtue, for nonhumans can be compassionate, kind, nurturing, and empathetic. By looking through a lens of virtue ethics at other beings we may break down our preconceived notions that humans are separate from nonhumans and that we are alone on the evolutionary tree. Now Mary here goes a step farther. What about the virtue of beans? What about the virtue of the earth, the sun, the universe, the “watcher” of our lives? Virtue, it may be argued, is something we intentionally create within our characters over a life time. What then of a young toddler who gives her toy to her friend? I do not see much preconceived intention in that act, or a lifetime of refinement. I am not saying that we can’t change who we are as we strive towards the future, in fact, I’d say the blessing of life is that each of us, where we are, can change and move towards the virtue we wish in the world. Yet at the same time there is virtue with which we are born. So why cannot virtue be born in plant and pig? Which virtues might that be? The one that comes to mind is the virtue of interconnection. Interconnecting is not a classic virtue, yet it seems to be the one I hold in common with bean and beaver. We are born interconnected, the gift we give to one another, the silent embrace that watches over us all.

What virtues do you see in nonhuman life? In your own life?

1 comment:

  1. If I may play the role of the hard-nosed philosopher . . .

    LKJ: "Virtue, it may be argued, is something we intentionally create within our characters over a life time."

    MG: Not an argument. It's a proposed definition. Let's call the proposer of this definition The Philosopher. Shall we accept The Philosopher's proposal? I don't know. I'm inclined to say: let us grant The Philosopher whatever definitions she wishes to posit, and see where she goes with them. This seems to be a basic guideline of charity for readers/listeners to extend to writers/speakers.

    LKJ: "What then of a young toddler who gives her toy to her friend?"

    MG: That's not virtue, by The Philosopher's definition. It is, however, commendable -- and it would seem to be laying the foundation for the development of virtue. Now, you can offer a different definition of "virtue" if you want to, or you might say that The Philosopher's definition of virtue makes virtue into something that's unimportant and uninteresting. But before making either of those moves, I'd want to see where one can go with the The Philosopher's definition.

    LKJ: "Yet at the same time there is virtue with which we are born."

    MG: Not according to The Philosopher's definition. The Philosopher is (apparently) interested in talking about the ways we intentionally create our characters over a lifetime, and she has chosen to call this "virtue." You might want to quarrel that she shouldn't call that "virtue," but surely (not Shirley!) we should let her talk about what she wants to talk about -- and the ways we intentionally shape character is a topic worth exploring, isn't it?

    Of course, the positive traits we are born with is also a topic worth exploring. Can we be content to let these two topics simply be two different topics? Why should we feel compelled to smush together different topics just because some single word (in this case, "virtue") has sometimes, in our careless human way of throwing around language, been used for each?

    LKJ: "So why cannot virtue be born in plant and pig? Which virtues might that be? The one that comes to mind is the virtue of interconnection. Interconnecting is not a classic virtue, yet it seems to be the one I hold in common with bean and beaver."

    MG: We might call interconnection a fact. We might call it good. What would be lost, do you think, if we don't call it a "virtue"? What is gained if we do?

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