Musings on a Labor Day

Happy Labor Day!  It is wonderful that America has a holiday devoted to celebrating our laborers.  There is nothing quite like an honest day’s work to give a person dignity.  Anyone who regularly puts in such a work week -- and behaves themselves ethically while on the job – is worthy of respect, though many don’t expect to be treated with any.  

“That’s alright, that’s OK, you’re going to pump our gas someday.”  Go to an “elite” college and you’ll often hear such a chant at a sports event, for apparently it is important that our “best and brightest” learn to disrespect laborers at an early age.  This kind of elitism is also on display whenever we use words like “professionals” to refer to members of certain occupations (e.g., doctors, lawyers, engineers, architects), while at the same time we refer to less affluent wage earners simply as “workers.”  Personally, though, I’ve met many a gas station attendant or fast food worker who epitomizes what it means to be a “professional,” whereas I’ve met many a lawyer who epitomizes what it means to be a “scumbag.”

This Labor Day, there is a special group of laborers who are worthy of celebrating.  I’m referring to the legions of Good Samaritans in East Texas who’ve volunteered their time to help the victims of Hurricane Harvey.  I honestly didn’t have them in mind last weekend when I wrote a blogpost about David Hume’s distinction between “sympathy” (a force for peace and unity) and “comparison” (a force for strife and hatred).  But clearly, ever since Harvey has made landfall in Texas, we have seen the immense power of human sympathy on display.  And it has been as beautiful as the most spectacular sunset.

Some people “Deep in the Heart of” credit the selflessness on display in their state as an example of what makes Texas – or America – uniquely great.  Personally, though, I choose to look at the beauty of the Harvey Helpers as an example of the wide-reaching power of human sympathy.  Sympathy resides inside all of our hearts, whether we are from Texas or Togo.   But unfortunately, it is often fleeting.  If only we can harvest this power more universally – meaning in more contexts – just imagine the world we would live in.  

I’m reminded of the plaque that appeared in front of the home in which Spinoza resided in Rinjburg, Holland.

Alas!  If all mankind were wise

And were benign as well.

Then the Earth world would be a paradise.

Whereas now it is often a Hell!

But why is it often a Hell?  In last week’s blogpost, I cited Hume to give part of the explanation.  Now, let me cite him again (also from his “Treatise of Human Nature”) to explain our predicament even further.

Here are Hume’s words:  “Every thing that is contiguous to us, either in space or time, strikes upon us with such an idea, it has a proportional effect on the will and passions, and commonly operates with more force than any object that lies in a more distant and obscure light.  Tho’ we may be fully convinc’d that the latter object excels the former, we are not able to regulate our actions by this judgment, but yield to solicitations of our passions, which always plead in favor of whatever is near and contiguous.”   And here’s Hume again, making much the same point:  “Men, ‘tis true, are always much inclin’d to prefer present interest to distant and remote; nor is it easy for them to resist the temptation of any advantage that they may immediately enjoy in apprehension of an evil that lies at a distance from them.”

From Rockport to Houston to Beaumont, we have seen examples of wonderful people heeding the call of those in need.  These heroes recognize how they personally can make a difference in others’ lives, and how their efforts can pay immediate dividends.  They can see profound, concrete, and undeniable benefits to their work.  The fact that these benefits would be enjoyed by strangers or that they themselves would be undertaking risks to help these strangers is not enough to deter these heroes.  They labor on, expecting neither money nor prestige, because (a) they have developed their faculty for sympathy and (b) the results of their labor will be sufficiently tangible and certain. 

I don’t wish for a second to undermine the importance of that assistance.   Taken together, it provides an inspiring example of the “wise” and “benign” human conduct reflected in the poem referenced above.  It is necessary that all people emulate these heroes if we wish to avoid the “Hell” on Earth that the poet was also talking about.  Necessary, yes; just not sufficient.

You see, it is not enough for our society to confront disasters once they are already upon us.  Once the signs of destruction are “near and contiguous” and can no longer be conceived “in a ... distant and obscure light,” we may be way too late to get involved in an adequate solution.  Thankfully, the Heroes of Harvey weren’t too late to save many lives.  But they were too late to save many others, or to avoid billions of dollars in property damage.  More to the point, all the Good Samaritans on the planet won’t be able to eliminate the deadly and costly consequences of the storms, fires and droughts that are sure to be coming, in increasing frequency, as long as the elites of our planet continue to treat global climate change as a merely theoretical and speculative concern. 

Thank God for the parents, educators, clergy, and others who are responsible for raising people like the Heroes of Harvey -- people willing to assume significant personal risks to save the lives of total strangers.  But please, God, may you find us politicians, business executives, and charismatic local leaders who can build a movement to confront the scourge of climate change regardless of whether its impact is near or far, clear or obscure, certain or debatable.

To be sure, we can debate the extent to which climate change will devastate us in the next generation or two.  But what seems certain is that the devastation will come, and that the less we do now to confront the problem, the greater the likelihood that the horrors will be Biblical in magnitude.  Isn’t it time to confront the matter now, before the floods are upon us?   Shouldn’t we listen to the old philosopher who tells us to trust our judgment, not our passions, and open our mind to what is “distant and obscure?” 

Just ask any doctor – it’s far better to stop smoking before the lung cancer comes, than to trust in the love of Good Samaritans to help you once the cancer has metastasized.   When it comes to our climate, every time we see glaciers melt, storms overwhelm us, or global temperatures set records, it is one more indication that our planet has cancer.  It’s too bad cancer can be such an unseen killer.

[Note -- The Empathic Rationalist will be on holiday next weekend and will return the weekend of September 16-17.]