by:
Katherine Kirby
I. The
Dilemma of Paralysis in the Experience of the Other
Situated within a world of expected
and unexpected meetings, the individual finds herself both surprised and awed
by the novelty and uniqueness of that which she experiences. There is a mystery in the world -- a seemingly
ever-elusive unknown -- which not only gives to our experiences a quality of
excited anticipation, but which also motivates us to continue venturing into
the world as explorers. This vague
awareness of an "other" strikes up within me a desire, or a yearning,
to move toward this unknown. Once I
allow myself the opportunity to become engaged, I discover in such experience a
beautiful involvement with an "otherness" which exceeds my
expectations and my conceptions.
The nature of my involvement with this mysterious "otherness,"
however, is not an easy matter to comprehend.
How is one to approach the unknown in a way that will not strip it of
its uniqueness? And further, once one
finds oneself thrown into communion with the "other," how is one to
respond? This issue of
"otherness" has been the focus of much discussion in philosophy,
particularly in the postmodern tradition.
The postmodern emphasis on the utter separateness and alterity of what
Levinas and his interpreters, for example, refer to as the "Other"
allows for a genuinely open and humble posture in the encounter with the
Other. Any sort of discernment or
rational grasp of the Other is an attempt to absorb the Other into oneself, and
is thus a violation of the alterity and transcendence of the Other. The postmodern project insists on a
rejection of philosophy's traditional reliance on rationality alone as a way of
obtaining knowledge. Such a rejection,
the Levinasian would argue, is necessary for a truly ethical openness to the
Other.
The refusal to conceptualize the
Other, with an aim rather to allow the Other to reveal himself to the
individual, might be understood as having an aesthetic quality. There is a deep and profound beauty in the
submission of the will and the openness and sacrifice of the self to the
infinitely distant Other. One might,
however, perceive a serious problem with the postmodern refusal to make
judgments and form ideas about the Other.
In ethical life, the issue arises as to how one can decide how to
respond to the address of the Other?
How can one care for, and fulfill the needs of, the Other, without any
process of judgment and decision? In
the postmodernist framework, especially in regard to the work of Levinas, one
seems to find a potential for paralysis in the encounter with the Other -- an
inability to ever understand or respond.
Typically understood to be in
contrast to the postmodern endeavor, pragmatic ethics can be understood as an
attempt to bring things back into relation and communication. As such, pragmatic philosophy seems to
suggest a resolution to the dilemma of paralysis that is possible in the
Levinasian framework. Dewey, for
example, emphasizes the need for active involvement and participation in the
experience with the Other. His notion
of the aesthetic, as illustrated in the paradigmatic example of art in Art as Experience, reveals the need for
an active engagement -- a "doing" in addition to
"undergoing" -- on the part of the individual. Pragmatist philosophers emphasize an
interdependence and reciprocity of relations, allowing for response in addition
to mere attentiveness.
Can the pragmatic acknowledgment of
a notion of active participation in responding to the Other provide a solution
to the potential paralysis to which we are seemingly doomed by Levinas'
insistence on infinite distance and alterity?
Further, is the aesthetic quality of ethical experience lost or enhanced
in such a transformation? I will argue
that the orientation of the self, characterized by both a radically open
vulnerability and an actively caring responsiveness, is the key for
understanding the reciprocal ethical relation between the individual and the
Other. The aesthetic quality of such
experience lies not only in the beautiful willingness and attentiveness given
to the Other, but also in the careful judgment and thoughtful response that
follows. Thus Levinas' submission and
hospitality without judgment, which seems to leave the individual paralyzed,
might be complemented by the
pragmatists' caring and care-ful participatory response of the
individual.
II. Levinasian
Radical Hospitality in the Face of the Other
A great deal of postmodern thought
centers around the issue of a recognition of alterity and difference, as
discussed in the language of "the Other." Let us focus on the work of Emmanuel Levinas, in Totality and Infinity, as the touchstone
for our examination of the postmodern emphasis on a recognition of difference,
infinite distance, and ultimately, transcendence. Suggesting a posture and orientation of humility and submission
in approaching and becoming engaged with the Other, postmodernists are
attempting to dethrone rationality from its position as supreme ruler in human
relations. Levinas argues that the
Western tradition in philosophy has been egoistic in nature, seeking, as a
colonizer would, to use rationality as a way of grasping and intellectually
owning the objects of its knowledge.
Through rational investigation and conceptualization of the things one
encounters in the world, the "alterity" of such objects "is
thereby reabsorbed into my own identity as a thinker or a possessor"
(Levinas 1969, 33). The individual,
whom he terms the "I," moves through the world seeking to gain
knowledge using her rationality as a way of conquering objects, bringing them
into the realm of her understanding.
However, the individual is at some
point brought face-to-face with the complete unknown. This unknown is the "Other" -- him who addresses me and
demands that I give him my attention.
In the presentation of the "face," one finds herself incapable
of formulating concepts and ideas of the Other that are able to capture his essence, for he exceeds any
ideas that she has. Thus, any attempt
to absorb him into my realm of understanding would be a violation, or a totalization
of him. As Levinas says, "[t]he
strangeness of the Other, his irreducibility to the I, to my thoughts and my
possessions, is precisely accomplished as a calling into question of my
spontaneity, as ethics" (Levinas 1969, 43). The Other is completely alterior and infinitely distant from the
I, due to the I's inability to access knowledge of him. And yet, the Other addresses the I,
commanding her attention and engaging her in communion with him.
According to Levinas, the only
ethical, non-totalizing way to respond is with complete openness and
submission, as with the answer, "Here I am." One must welcome the address of the Other
and give him full and sincere attention.
This "hospitality" cannot include any sort of rational,
conceptualizing, or judging activity on the part of the individual , as that
would be an attempt to pull the Other into the same (Levinas 1969, 205). Opening oneself to the Other is a sacrifice
in which the I "goes unto being in its absolute exteriority" (Levinas
1969, 47). There may indeed be
knowledge given to the "I"; however, it is not determined rationally,
but rather is revealed to the
"I" through the address.
Insisting on absolute hospitality and complete attentiveness, without
any sort of attempt to conceptualize the Other, Levinas argues that the truly
ethical orientation toward the Other consists in full submission and openness
without question.
Let us consider, for example, the
homeless stranger, ignored by nearly every person who hurriedly brushes past
him. Passersby seem to pay no attention
to the man, despite his request for help.
Levinas would suggest that the problem is not that the passersby have no
knowledge or understanding concerning the plight of this man, but rather that
they are relying upon what they have conceptualized and judged to be his
situation. They have judged him
according to their pre-conceptions of him, and in this sense, they have
violated his alterity. Or, they have
made an implicit decision to not concern themselves with anything other than
their own projects and concerns, preferring the comfort and convenience of
being oblivious to others. In either
case, they ignore the Other's uniqueness and prefer to include him within their
commonplace picture of the world.
Levinas, in his insistence on the recognition of difference and
Other-ness, is attempting to awaken the individual from the ignorance of her
totalizing infliction of violence upon the Other. Levinas argues that, in order to experience the Other, without
violating him, one must cease her own activity, and give her full,
unquestioning attention to the Other.
She must listen to his address, and willingly open herself to him in a
radically welcoming way.
There is a beauty in the ethical
encounter -- an aesthetic quality that lies not necessarily in the content of
the command issued or the instruction revealed, but rather in the sacrifical
openness of the individual in relation to the Other. While not directly discussed in Levinas's work, there is a
certain beauty and grace to be found in the non-totalizing, sacrificial ethical
orientation to the Other. There is an
unbelievable beauty in the social worker's openness to the death row inmate,
even despite the very real possibility that what he might reveal to her is
utterly evil and horrifying. But if the
I is to be utterly open and non-judgmental, is there no way in which she can
respond to the command issued forth?
Can she not respond with a judgment of the content of the address in
order to respond?
The dilemma in the Levinasian
refusal to use rational thinking and judgment in the experience of the Other is
the absolute inability to respond to the Other in any way. Without formulating concepts of the Other
and of what is revealed by him in address, it is impossible to judge how one
might act in response. Indeed, it seems
there could be no response at all, for such responsive activity would be guided
not by an orientation of submission and radically open attentiveness, but
rather by self-direction and rational decision. Further, the infinite gulf of separation that divides me from the
exterior Other seems to prevent me from participation with the Other. And yet, Levinas acknowledges some need to be engaged with the Other
-- some obligation to act. It is the
experience of the Other, and the revelation of need issued forth which
obligates the individual in some way. I
find myself obliged to act in response to what is revealed to me by the Other,
and this requires that I judge what response is called for. But the Levinasian insistence on infinite
distance and separation, and on a rejection of the totalizing activity of
rational judgment, in favor of a completely open and welcoming hospitality,
seems to result in a very real paralysis, in which the individual cannot
responsively interact with the Other.
This inability to interact not only denies the individual's ability to act and to express herself, but it also
denies to the Other the care and the
responsiveness of participation that is perhaps sought in the original address.
III. Pragmatic
Participatory Responsiveness as an Answer to Postmodern Paralysis
Pragmatic philosophy, with its
emphasis on an orientation of participation and interaction, seems to suggest a
solution to the postmodern dilemma of paralysis of action in engagement with
the Other. Dewey, in particular,
contributes a notion of active involvement with beings with which we have
contact. He stresses an interactive,
participatory, mutual exchange in experience and communication. In Art
as Experience, Dewey carefully articulates what he sees to be the intimate
relation between "undergoing," as the sort of openness to instruction
and address, and "doing," as the active, responsive element of
experience, in the process of creation.
Using the artistic as his paradigm for discussion, Dewey suggests that
ordinary experiences of all sorts can be understood according to the aesthetic
qualities and standards of artistic experience.
The painter is, of course,
"doing" something, in performing movements and utilizing materials in
the creation of a piece of work. But
there is also an "undergoing" element in the artistic endeavor, which
is seen to be inextricable from the active, creative "doing" of the
artist. So intimately tied together in
the nature of the artistic creation, "doing" and
"undergoing" must be discussed in relation to one another. In "Having an Experience" in Art as Experience, Dewey recognizes the frequent event in which the artist is aware
of a need to stop all action, and be attentive for a period of time. Dewey speaks of the "undergoing"
of the artist as a sensitivity to both objects of observation and also to
aspects of her own work. He says,
"[a] painter must consciously undergo the effect of his every brush stroke
or he will not be aware of what he is doing and where his work is going"
(Stuhr 2000, 524). The painter, for
example, must have the ability to listen to the canvas and allow the painting
to tell her what it needs. There is a
sort of mutual, loving exchange between the artist and her work, each affecting
the other. The process of creation is a
growing developing relationship between the artist and her work as it
evolves. And this relationship requires
a balance of doing and being willingly receptive on the part of the
artist. There sometimes seems to be a
tendency to impose one's will upon one's work, viewing it as a sort of
possession. Such a view of one's work
as subject only to the artist's "doing" creates a situation in which
there is no reflection upon the work, and there is no surrender to the creation
process.
Levinasians would look favorably
upon this notion of "undergoing," as it rings of the openness and
willing hospitality they demand in the experience of the Other. But what is recognized by the pragmatists
that might be missing in Levinas' framework is the notion of active
"doing." As Dewey suggested
in the passage quoted earlier, the artist is participating with her piece.
She is not only open and receptive, but is also carefully active and responsive
to the needs of the work. Her creation
is a product of her activity -- of her judgment, her decision, and her acting
on the materials she chooses. The
aesthetic quality of artistic creation lies in the unity -- the wholeness -- of
the experience, including both elements of "undergoing" and
"doing," willing receptivity and active participation.
Dewey suggests that the aesthetic
quality discoverable in the experience of art, is a quality present in all
human experience. In any experience, I am
both receptive to the object and my surroundings, and I am also engaged in the
active process of investigation and thought.
Any imbalance between the two elements leaves the experience distorted
and severed. According to Dewey, the
response of the individual is key not only for actions that the individual
would engage in after the
"undergoing" process, but also for the individual's role as
participant in the
"undergoing." In this way,
the "undergoing" actually comes to depend upon the "doing"
of the individual.
The dramatic encounter with the
Other is a widely-discussed issue in pragmatic philosophy. Though not traditionally thought to be among
the list of pragmatic philosophers, Jane Addams, in her role as founder of Hull
House, has written on such experience of the stranger-Other from the
perspective of the charity worker in her essay entitled "Charitable
Effort." Upon arriving and
beginning her work, the charity worker discovers an utter difference and
distance that separates the Other from everything that she knows. As Dewey would say, her willingness to make
herself open and to plunge herself into the realm of the Other, is a
willingness to "undergo." The
submission and vulnerability of Levinasian hospitality is evidenced in the
visitor's loss of a sense of superiority.
She is suddenly aware that the Other is beyond her, exceeding all of her
conceptions and judgments. In order to
avoid imposing her own norms and standards upon this Other before her, she must
attentively listen and willingly open herself to the needs revealed to her in
her encounter. If, however, the charity
visitor does nothing more than merely
listen to the Other, the relationship is left unfulfilled. She, paralyzed because of her effort to
avoid the totalizing imposition of her own conceptions, refuses to make a
judgment and dispense aid, and denies the very need revealed to her by the
address of the charity recipient.
Addams says, ". . .the accumulation of knowledge and the holding of
convictions must finally result in the application of that knowledge and those
convictions to life itself. . . ." (Stuhr 2000, 644). She is suggesting that there is an
undeniable call to a mutuality of address -- to act in response to the need revealed
by the address.
The social implications of the need
for such a mutuality of address and response are possibly most evident in the
ever-present need for a dialogue amongst diverse and often conflicting
cultures. As Alain Locke suggests, the
democratic ideal calls out desperately for an appreciation and understanding of
cultural diversity and a sense of a community of humanity. Locke locates the fundamental criteria for a
sense of wholeness and community among differing peoples in the notion of reciprocity. In "Unity Through Diversity," Locke
articulates his position, saying, "[w]hat we need to learn most is how to
discover unity and spiritual equivalence underneath the differences which at
present so disunite and sunder us. . ." (Harris 1989, 135). Through the interactive, responsive mutual
exchange with others, Locke believes that one is able to find a commonality
between human beings, no matter what differences lie between them. His is not a project intending to blur
difference, or to deny alterity, but rather an endeavor to discover a unifying
quality between diverse beings, while appreciating
and celebrating their
differences. His
"reciprocity" involves the open attentiveness of Dewey's process of
"undergoing," as well as the active participation of responsive
"doing." Locke's aim is
harmonious, universal community amidst previously disparate individuals and
groups through the recognition of connections and relations. The universalization that he calls for is
not characterized by strict uniformity, which would strip individuals of all
uniqueness, but rather by an equivalence, which preserves uniqueness while
balancing out any dynamic of superiority/inferiority.
The very real beauty of willing
attentiveness and openness seems incomplete and lacking if one is unable to
give anything back. Indeed, it seems as
if the beautiful act of sacrifice itself is incomplete, if one does not follow
attentiveness with a dedication of action and response to the good of the
Other. Perhaps the example of Mother
Theresa can shed light upon the location of the aesthetic in the experience of
the stranger-Other. In a way, Mother
Theresa effectively created a community in the slums of Calcutta, in which
there existed not only an open hospitality to the Other, but also an active
responsiveness to the address of the Other.
She was able to respond with an active outpouring of love and
generosity. In each encounter with the
stranger-Other, she would engage in the "undergoing" of attentive
listening and willing vulnerability to him.
And she would also engage in the "doing" of active
participatory response, in the form of a generous offering of care and
love. It is this combination of
radically open submission and actively caring responsiveness which grounds and
defines the aesthetic quality of experience.
IV. The
Implicit Warning to Pragmatism: Radical
Hospitality Grounds Response
Having reworked our understanding of
the orientation of the self in experience of the Other to include an imperative
to respond, thus resolving the problem of paralysis, we must now be sure that
we situate the element of active and responsive "doing" in a way that
does not violate the radical openness of "undergoing." Any sort of response, whether it be the
formulation of a judgment or the commencement of action, must be grounded in the "undergoing"
aspect of experience. Without the
revelation or the command issued forth in the open and willing encounter with
the Other, one cannot proceed without violating the Other. Participation very quickly becomes control
if one does not first (and continuously) open herself to instruction from the
Other. Judgment is only possible
because of the radical openness involved in "undergoing" -- an
openness that ought not be tainted by the imposition of rationality's urgent
desire to conceptualize.
Perhaps postmodernism would not
altogether deny the need for a responsive move in relation to the Other. In fact, Levinas speaks of engagement in
discourse with the Other, implying that the role of the I is not a merely
passive one. However, Levinas argues
that the primordial, grounding element of ethical experience of the Other lies
in the initial presentation of the Other and the submission of the self to open
attentiveness. Only in such a posture of radical hospitality can the individual
receive the revelation or instruction from
the
Other which can then provide a basis for rational judgment and response.
Pragmatism seems to suggested a
reversal of this ordering of elements in experience, grounding the
"undergoing" phase in the "doing" phase. The suggestion is that one's concerns and
activities ought to somehow determine one's openness and hospitality. The individual concerned primarily with her
own activities and her own drive to conceptualize, judge, and act is able to
selectively engage herself with Others in service to her own perceived
interests. It is perhaps possible that
even the most well-intentioned effort to become engaged with an Other is
actually driven by pre-conceptions of what such engagement would entail. The problem is one of projection. Dewey suggests in "The Human
Contribution" that the ". . . the investigator. . . . is interested
in [the object] as far as it leads his thought and observation. . ."
(Dewey 1987, 258). Certainly, this can
only be seen as a violation of the Other -- as a totalizing, controlling effort
to reduce the Other to an object of thought.
The infinite command issued forth in the face-to-face encounter is
subjected to the prioritized will of the individual. Concern for one's own activities and future response, and a
reliance on pre-conceptions and pre-judgments, eliminate the possibility of
truly open submission to the Other.
Hospitality is smothered, as one ends up reducing the Other to merely
another object in the realm of her understanding, even though her intentions
might be driven by a sincere desire to interact charitably.
The intimacy of connection between
the two elements of experience -- the "undergoing" and the
"doing" -- is a delicate one, for it is very easy to impose one's own
ideas upon the Other. So, while the
postmodernists must concede the pragmatic notion of active response in order to
avoid the dilemma of paralysis, the pragmatists must find some way to avoid the
dilemma of control and domination in the rational effort to conceptualize
interaction with the Other. It seems
that Dewey, in at least some parts of his work, seems to suspect a certain
primacy in the "undergoing" element of experience. In "Experience as Artifice," he
says that "[t]he experiencer is aware solely, or nearly so, of the object
or event on which his attention centers" (Jackson 1998, 129). The individual must plunge herself into the
unknown realm of the Other, not in a purely passive way, but in an open attentiveness. It is in
revelation that she learns from the Other, and it is out of that revelation that the possibility of response and active
caring might (or perhaps must)
arise. If participation with the Other
is to be mutual, respectful, and appreciative, the "undergoing" phase
of experience must be the grounding -- the foundation -- of the
"doing" phase.
An ever-elusive concept, though
sought by poets, philosophers, artists, and the like since the beginning of
time, love manifests itself most beautifully in the mutual exchange between
individuals. The reciprocity of
attentiveness and response is located in an interaction that is based upon a
radical openness, which grounds a caring and care-ful active engagement. As Levinas suggests, "[t]he face of the
Other at each moment destroys and overflows the plastic image it leaves me, the
idea existing to my own measure and to the measure of its ideatum -- the inadequate idea" (Levinas 1969, 51). The grounding for genuine ethical experience
of the Other lies in the continuous willing submission of the self to the
address of the Other. Through such
hospitality and openness, the individual can be receptive to what the Other
desires to reveal to her. Arising out
of her loving, open attentiveness to the Other, there is an active devotion and
commitment to the good of the Other, as the good is revealed in the
"undergoing" phase.
It is an intimate, flexible
interaction between the elements of "doing" and
"undergoing," which allows for true responsiveness. The painter does not simply
"undergo," and then proceed to all the "doing" of
painting. Rather, she moves fluidly in
and out of each phase, always grounding her "doing" in what is
revealed to her in the "undergoing" phase. Similarly, the individual in communion with the Other must chose
to submit herself to the "undergoing" of hospitality in an active
movement of sacrifice. The
relinquishing of the self to open attentiveness -- to the suffering of
"undergoing" -- leads the responsible, conscientious individual to
the further sacrifice of responsive "doing." The extraordinary beauty of participatory
engagement with the Other lies in the loving, responsive gesture of care, and
in the radically open vulnerability in which such response is grounded. It is only from such a posture of
hospitality and attentivenes that one can catch a glimpse of the divinity and
transcendence of the Other, with whom she finds herself in communion.