Presumptuous Qualifiers


“If we want to understand the totality of this philosopher’s character, we must know their flaws too,” he said, “because character matters”.

“Why are we questioning her personal character here? We’re talking about her philosophy.“

“She wasn’t kind to her husband. She stepped out on him, and she didn’t treat her children well, and she doesn’t agree with you on [some unrelated position].” 

If we planned on dating or marrying the philosopher, an exposé on her character might be vital. If the only thing we want from a philosopher is her philosophical road map for life, and we could use it to be a better spouse, parent, friend, and person, why does anything else matter? If a couple bullet points from her personal life sways us to question the otherwise useful tenets of her philosophy, then we’re probably do it wrong. 

Those who tells us about her personal flaws want us to dismiss her philosophy, but what if she wrote some brilliant philosophical nuggets that either broke the complex down to simple, understandable nuggets, or she provided some insight into the human condition that was so brilliant we cannot shake it. What if she wrote something that changed how we view a substantial matter in our life? How often has anyone, philosopher or otherwise, achieved that? If we considered those nuggets brilliant, and we could use them to make our life a little better, shouldn’t that be the end of the conversation?

“What if she disagrees with you on [some unrelated position]?” Detractors think that if they can trip us up on some unrelated position, we might dismiss the entire cannon of her philosophical beliefs. Wrongo Bongo! We do not have a litmus test on philosophers. We are only concerned with the information we think we can use. 

Unless detractors are able to disprove her theories, I don’t care to read anything they write about her. The detractors can even provide substantial proof that she was a hypocrite in that she didn’t personally follow any of her beliefs, and it won’t matter to me. I’m only concerned with how I can apply her principles to my life. If she decided to violate those principles, that’s on her.

Some detractors don’t even bother trying to refute the message of a philosopher anymore. They just go straight to character assassination. I listened to it, and I factored it into the equation at one time, but they’ve fired this cannon so many times, and in so many ways, that they’ve rendered all cannon fire meaningless. If the detractor was able to hold their fire and only take out certain characters, we might consider their charges. As it stands, everyone is awful, and if everyone is awful, no one is. They give weight to the cliche all humans are flawed.   

Prove or disprove the message, I say, and do it so well that you can convince me that it’s a quality rebuttal. Her philosophical nuggets may prove so influential in my life that even a substantial refutation of her philosophy might not sway me, but I will at least appreciate the elements of their approach.

Assassinating the character of the messenger approach might prove more effective if her followers engaged in some form of celebrity worship. I think detractors believe we idolize the messenger in the manner they worship their celebrities. They write scathing pieces about her personal life. They explain how that information serves to undermine everything she taught. They seek to expose some personal flaws about her to taint her message. Some of us don’t care. We only seek the message. 

They also seek to insert a qualifier into everyone’s brain when someone discusses the brilliance of her philosophy. “She was brilliant, sure, but wasn’t she a (fill in the blank).” Who gives flying fig leaf? 

The progression of the qualifier has reached a point where we place so much emphasis on the faults of the messenger that their message gets lost. If I fell prey to such matters, I would consider this dilemma so confusing. “You mean we should do research on everyone who ever lived, and if they have a tickets for jaywalking we should dismiss them?” I say. “What if they could provide me some valuable insight into matters that otherwise trouble me? What if amid everything she wrote, she provided a nugget that directly applied to that troubling situation? Should I dismiss that nugget of information based on the fact that she was unkind to her children?”    

We obviously enjoy the messenger’s presentation more than others do or we wouldn’t be reading her books, but we never idolized her so much that if someone pointed out a relatively insignificant flaw, we’re going to trash all of her philosophical tenets. “If you thought I was that superficial, then you read me wrong.”

We might find her message informative, entertaining, or some combination of both, but the moment after she dies, the next messenger takes the baton. Dear detractors: It’s not about the messenger it’s the message.

If John Doe developed a brilliant technique on the general, agrarian practices of South Dakota, some detractors might attempt to have his technique dismissed by discussing what he wrote about the Peloponnesian Wars. In their perfect world, if John Doe wants people to take his unique and possibly helpful ideas on agrarian practices seriously, he is now required, personally and professionally, to inform his readers of his views on the Peloponnesian Wars. Why?

Why does anyone care that John Doe married four times, and that he wasn’t very nice to his kids? “Because character matters.” It does matter, in general, but it doesn’t make his ideas on South Dakota agriculture any less brilliant? Those who disagree with John Doe’s ideas, expose his philandering activities in the hope that no one will follow him. If we say that we’re going to follow Doe’s ideas, and someone says, “Are you sure you want to do that? You know he cheated on his second wife don’t you?” Yes, I know all that, but I don’t plan on dating him, marrying him, or having any personal relationships with him. I just think he has great ideas, and I prefer to listen to anyone who has great ideas. “They work,” we say. “Try them.”  

If we haven’t had military service, we cannot comment on anything involving the military without thoroughly informing the public of that qualifier. If we haven’t reared a child, we cannot have a philosophy on raising kids. We must cede the point that if someone poses an idea on agrarian practices in South Dakota without ever stepping foot in the state that person might not know enough to comment, but we shouldn’t dismiss them outright. If their outside-the-box ideas work that’s the end of the conversation. We might need some qualifiers to make informed decisions, but too many people dismiss otherwise great ideas based on a messenger’s personal resume.

If we know nothing about the qualifiers they introduce, we cower. “I didn’t know that,” we say. Okay, now that we do, what are we going to do about it? Digest the information, take the qualifier out, and put it back into the philosophy. Does it make a difference? Does that philosophical nugget still work for us, personally? Did it enrich our life all the way up to the point that we found out that our favorite philosopher was a (fill in the blank)? If so, continue to use that nugget for all that it’s worth. So, the emperor has no clothes now, was she that enjoyable to look at with her clothes on? If we idolized her prior to learning that bit of information, then we were doing it wrong. Drop the superficial idolatry. It doesn’t fit you anymore. Seek substance.   

Honor Thy Mother and Father


“The commandment (Honor Thy Mother and Father) is about obedience and respect for authority; in other words it’s simply a device for controlling people. The truth is, obedience and respect should not be granted automatically. They should be earned. They should be based on the parents’ (or the authority figure’s) performance. Some parents deserve respect. Most of them don’t. Period.”  –George Carlin

Had famous comedian, and social critic, George Carlin left this argument in the realm of adults conducting themselves in a manner worthy of respect and obedience, a counterargument would be impossible to make, but Carlin had to go ahead and add a pesky punctuation mark. Period. End of statement. I loathe most qualifiers almost as much as I loathe “but it’s for the children!” arguments. I prefer bold, provocative statements that shock the collective into rethinking their ideas on a given matter. My limited experience with children has informed me, however, that Carlin should’ve added an asterisk for children.

Children have an almost unconditional need to respect laws and rules, and that they want to respect those in roles of authority and guidance, for the structure it provides them amidst the chaos and confusion they experience while attempting to learn how they are to conduct themselves in life.

o-GEORGE-CARLIN-facebookNo one would use the words imposing or authoritative figure to describe me, yet when I am around a child who is lacking in the stability that decent parenting can provide, they gravitate to me. This is made most apparent when I mention to them that I am considering leaving the room. To the other kids in the room, my declaration is the equivalent to a starting gun. They look forward to any adult-free moments life has to offer, and they plan to cut loose. The kids who are more accustomed to playing without much adult supervision or the degree of authority a somewhat competent adult can provide, worry that I may not be coming back. ‘What are you talking about,’ the more adjusted kids in the room all but scream. ‘Let him go!’

Anytime I recall this scene, some find it cute and funny, and in some respects it is, but it’s also a revealing moment of the sense of vulnerability some kids who lack a consistent image of authority have. They want and need some sort of definition for how to act. The adult in the room is left confused by this display of a child not only needing an authority figure in the room, but actually wanting it. It makes no sense to those of us who spent our childhood attempting to escape any semblance of authority. It’s sad, and it enhances the need for a qualifier in Carlin’s argument.

As much space as has been given to the respect we should give to a child’s curious mind, their limitless capacity for fantasy, and their ability to view and respond to adults without filters, they’re still doughy balls of clay waiting to be formed. We tend to view most children through the best case scenarios. Their lack of filters, their fantastical minds, and their freedom is something to be cherished and envied. We need to help them develop this without authority. Yet, even healthy, well-adjusted kids need order. Even if they are going to create healthy disorder, random chaos, and artistic destruction of everything we hold dear, they need a healthy dose of structure and order to line their foundation. Even though psychologists say that our minds aren’t full formed until twenty-five, they need something closer to it to scrutinize authority figures, rebel against them, and out and out reject them based on their performance. A child needs a definition of respect regardless if their parents have earned it or not.

I would’ve jumped for joy, decades ago, to read that a learned mind, such as George Carlin, echoed this sentiment of mine, in the manner he did. The more I age, and the more I see the other side of the argument, the more I understand that respect for parents is of mutual benefit. As a child ages, experience leads them to need authority less, and the onus falls on the parent to live a life that commands respect from their progressed mind. Parents are people too, of course, and they’re subject to the same failings, missteps, and lifestyle choices as any other adult. When that adult becomes a parent, and they continue to display such failings, they present a challenge to a child who wants to respect them. It’s important for parents to do whatever they can to fulfill what was once unconditional respect and make better choices. In the respect arena, children are forgiving, blessed with a short-term memory, and imbued with a desire to respect their parents for the purpose of having something to respect, and to have parents that their friends can respect. Parents can serve as a lighthouse in a dark sea of confusion and chaos, and this is made most apparent by children who have been guided through their youth by suspect parenting, but I don’t think it’s debatable that a parent, coupled with a child’s obedience and respect of that parent, will play a role in that child’s life that will last well into adulthood.

No matter what my dad did or said, during my younger years, he required me to respect him. I considered that self-serving. I, like George Carlin, thought he needed to do more to earn my respect, but like a politician who lies and later informs the public that they’ve “always been consistent on the matter”, my dad’s constant demands for near unconditional respect worked. Even though there were moments when he lost my respect, he continued to require me to respect him. He required me to overlook the fact that he didn’t earn my respect in many ways. I did use Carlin’s line that respect and obedience should be earned on my dad, in many ways, even though I didn’t know Carlin echoed my sentiments at the time. To my teenage mind, my dad’s requirements were illogical, and my dad’s answer to my arguments was, “I am your father, and you will respect me,” and he wouldn’t yield on this point. I pointed to his moments of weakness and hypocrisy, but he didn’t budge. “You have to respect your father.” It was almost obnoxious how often he just kept repeating such lines, in various ways, no matter what I said. To my surprise, it worked. His obnoxious and repetitious insistence worked. I respected him, and his authority in my life, and it ended up benefiting me by giving me a base of respect, and a foundation from which I would venture forth in the rest of my life.

Of course there are qualifiers to this qualifier, as we’ve all witnessed otherwise stable parents produce one black sheep in a family of otherwise well-adjusted children, and we’ve all witnessed well-adjusted, under-parented children display a sense of independence that they carried into adulthood. The arguments that there are exceptions to every rule shouldn’t lead us to believe that the rules need to be changed. Parents should strive to earn respect and obedience from their children, even if some don’t succeed in this regard. I consider it irresponsible to make a blanket statement that in some ways encourages children to disrespect their parents until they earn respect and obedience. Again, if it were Carlin’s goal to encourage parents to act in a responsible manner that earns respect, I would have no problem with his statement, but he had to add that period. 

The aspect of the oft repeated refutation of the commandment Honor thy Mother and Father that confuses me, in regards to George Carlin, is that by the time he wrote this piece, in his third book, he was older and wiser, and I would assume that he reached an age where more objective wisdom takes place. It sounds great to repeat the line that the age-old “honor thy mother and father” line is B.S., because that speaks to the rebellious side of those of us who have lived a full life in direct opposition to our parents’ wishes, and perhaps we even hated our parents, but Carlin had children at the time of this writing, grown children, and his perspective on this matter either didn’t change, or it flipped back. The only light in the tunnel of my confusion is that his children have stated that they often thought they were the parents in the Carlin home, a statement that leads this reader to suspect that George Carlin was probably a poor parent and a relatively chaotic adult in private. He had to have witnessed the deleterious effects this had on his children, and it probably formed his belief that obedience and respect of a parent should be conditional and earned period. Perhaps, he wrote it with the knowledge that he failed his children in this regard.