On the “Modern Soul”
Please note that the names used in this article are chosen at random and all connections to real life are purely coincidental. This is pure fiction.
Beatriz and Thomas are sitting in an Italian restaurant.
Beatriz: Hey Tommy, I have a little confession to make.
Thomas: Go for it.
Beatriz: I’m good with computers. I go to airports and connect to their free wifi and take the private information of the naive people who actually do work on the network.
Thomas: So… you steal information? What kind of information? Like credit card information?
Beatriz: Well, credit card numbers are just the beginning. I know people’s social security numbers, contact information, address, and relationships with others. Heck, I even know their personal interests via their Youtube recommendations. If I wanted to, I could go up to any of these fools and start a conversation. I could pretend to like whatever they like: for example, I could have approached this man who was fascinated by crypto currency and pretended to like it myself. I could have been his “friend” in a matter of seconds. That’s some real manipulation.
Thomas: You know what you’re doing is a crime, right?
Beatriz: But I never act on the information.
Thomas: You probably shouldn’t be doing that. What if someone — a government agent for example — finds out? You’d get in some big trouble…
Beatriz: Look. I’ve never been caught, and I probably never ever will. I’m good at this stuff; I’ve done it for years and know how to cover my own footsteps.
Thomas: Then why bring it up with me? I feel kind of bad for the people you’re doing this to. I might have to report you.
Beatriz: That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about. I also feel bad for the people I’m “harming.” I have a gut feeling that it’s just not right.
Thomas: Yeah, it’s most definitely wrong.
Beatriz: Why, though?
Thomas: It’s definitely a gut feeling, but I think there’s a little more than that. It goes against the moral concept of privacy.
At this point, Arthur, who has been sitting at another and has overheard the entire conversation, joins in by walking over.
Arthur: My question to you two is why are you even discussing these actions? Nobody accused you or caught you. In fact, you’re pretty certain that you will never be caught. Then why worry?
Beatriz: I feel bad.
Arthur: Did you ever question why you feel bad?
Thomas: I guess going against the law always feels wrong. Plus, I was told to respect other people’s personal boundaries. These crimes are overstepping boundaries.
Arthur: But who gets to choose the law? Who gets to choose morality?
Beatriz: I don’t know. All I know is that it’s wrong.
Thomas: I think of it this way: if I don’t want people to know that I’m doing it, it’s probably wrong. If I don’t want the authorities to know, it’s probably wrong. Oftentimes, there are people around the corner who can see if I stepped out of line.
Beatriz: I agree!
Arthur: So you think that there is a nearly-constant surveillance of your actions?
Thomas: Yeah, something like that.
Arthur: What about just thinking and never extending to any action beyond your brain working? Is there constant surveillance of your own thoughts and ideas? Not actually acting “wrongly,” but simply thinking of doing so.
Beatriz: Like thinking about committing a crime? Like imagining attacking someone?
Arthur: Yes. How would you feel?
Thomas: I would certainly feel quite disturbed!
Arthur: Exactly. You both have to realize that you are your own thought police: you judge your thoughts and actions and evaluate them constantly to see if they are aberrational or incorrect.
Thomas: Yes, and I think for good reason. People would be doing wrong things left and right! I think it’s actually a beneficial thing.
Arthur: It’s peculiar to me, how conditioned we all are. We don’t even need some Leviathan or modern-day Gestapo to come to tell us what we ought to do or think. We don’t need to actually be punished to deter us from doing what we want. We are our own CCTV cameras, just in our heads. Just go back to what you two were talking about before. Nobody will catch Beatriz, but she still feels bad. She is the one who is putting herself “in line” here. Far importantly, it’s difficult to know what this “line” is or where this “line” comes from.
Beatriz and Thomas: Again, we see this as a good thing. After all, we are stopping crimes and promoting a more peaceful world.
Arthur: I disagree. Who gets to decide what is “good” and “bad?” Who gets to decide what is “peaceful?” We, on an individual level, certainly do not. I cannot wake up one day and choose that stealing is peace. Doing so would not only bring the fear of being caught, but it would trigger my own brain to tell me to stop. Our brains are the best thought police too: there is no need for massive funding for surveillance, no need to actually have people spy on us 24/7. We are with ourselves at all times, watching our every move.
Beatriz: I guess we don’t quite know who exactly chooses the “line.”
Arthur. Exactly. Why should we put our morality in the hands of the unknown? What if we, although unlikely, suddenly think that certain things that society thinks of as “good” are in fact egregiously harmful? We would be quite powerless against society’s conditioning. Isn’t that, by definition, quite oppressive?
Thomas: I agree and think that we should explore who gets to choose morality.
Arthur: Absolutely. That should be a discussion for another day.
These dialogues are inspired by and representative of Michel Foucault’s philosophy, mainly from his book: Discipline and Punish
