Live? Laugh? Love?

It’s been a while, but I’ve had some more thoughts that might be worth writing down. There are of course greater things going on in the world that I could be discussing right now, but I lack the words or the perspective to do them justice. My current thoughts are in relation to the old topic of free speech, which I’ve discussed multiple times before, but more specifically about laughter, humour, offense and happiness.

The first thing to say, of course, is that humour is incredibly subjective; more so perhaps than any other area of expression. What one person finds funny, another finds utterly boring, or perhaps even offensive. Just within one individual, what they might find amusing in one mood is distinctly unfunny in another.

That caveat aside, I think there are some things worth saying. This is all brought about by the news stories in the last couple of weeks about former actor and failed politician Laurence Fox. While being interviewed on GB News, he made some extremely misogynistic remarks about a female journalist, and was roundly criticised from all sides.

He has, perhaps predictably, dug his feet in, complaining about his treatment and the imfringement of his free speech, and blamed the too-easily-offended and the world at large. One of the things he said though, struck me as revealing.

"I realise that the new woke world is low and laughter and high on offence..."

What this tells me is that Mr. Fox has failed to understand something; he has failed to understand that it is possible to laugh without laughing at someone. It is possible to tell a joke that doesn't have someone else as the butt of it. It is in fact possible to be happy without knowing that someone else is miserable, and possible to experience joy without making someone else sad.

Mr. Fox's words brought to mind a couple of lines from a poem I read years ago (and which a bit of Googling has informed me was written by Brian Jacques of ‘Redwall’ fame):

Bullies never smile, they sneer.

Bullies never laugh. They jeer.

In the case of Fox and the many people like him, they seem very apt. However, if anyone ever dares tell them that they are bullies they (someone ironically) become very offended and bewail modern peoples' lack of good humour.

There is this persistent idea that there is something humourless, po-faced and deeply un-fun about modern discourse. Individuals like Fox and certain tabloid newspapers complain of ‘politically correct kill-joys’ or ‘woke snowflakes’, the ‘professionally offended’ who can’t bear to hear anyone say anything mean about anyone without clutching their pearls and 'cancelling' people left and right (but mostly right).

I have said before that I believe nobody has the right not to be offended, but that everybody has the responsibility not to offend, or at least not without very good cause. Offense can be an important tool for shocking us out of our apathy, but that’s very different to being the butt of a mocking joke. Laughter is a blessing, but there is such a thing as cruel laughter, and cruelty is always to be opposed.

Sometimes one hears people complain that ‘you can’t joke about anything anymore’. This is patently untrue, but the idea that people are more humourless or more easily offended is, I think, incorrect.

Something has indeed changed, but it’s not that people are less inclined to laughter and more inclined to offense. People have always been offended, they’ve always been hurt, they’ve always felt insulted and belittled. What has changed is that they now have the confidence to say so. We have this idea that people ought to be kind to each other, and when they’re not, we express our disapproval through our words and our wallets.

It is, of course, possible to laugh at someone in a way that isn’t mean-spirited. One can (and should) laugh at oneself, and you can invite others to laugh with you. But that’s rather the point. You can join in the laughter when someone laughs at themselves, and do it in a way that is good-natured and kind. We can find humour in each other’s flaws and foibles without mocking or belittling them or the person themselves.

Humour is subjective, but if you can’t laugh without laughing at someone else, if your happiness is predicated on making others miserable to make yourself feel good, then you’re a poor excuse for a human being. I can only hope that one day the jeering is entirely drowned out by the warm laughter of those who take delight and joy in each other’s differences, not use them as an excuse for cruelty and mockery. The quality of the laughter will be better, and because we are all laughing together, there will be so much more of it to enjoy.

Rights, Responsiblities and Privileges

I’ve made asides to my views on the concept of rights before, and occasionally promised that I would one day expand on them.  That day has finally arrived.

Very simply put, I do not believe in rights.  I do not believe in human rights, fundamental rights, playwrights (no, wait…) or inalienable rights (even for aliens).  People very glibly talk about ‘human rights’ and what they are, especially their own and especially when they think that they ought to have something that they’re not getting.

We have written charters of human rights, right to a home, right to family, right to freedom of expression and freedom of religious and freedom of assembly, to clean water and food, clothing, education etc. etc. etc. and so on and so forth; a bill of interminable rights.  And to have these charters and bills is extremely praiseworthy, a laudable attempt to make sure that everyone has a good standard of life.  If you accept the concept as a given, then it all makes perfect sense.

However, I do not accept the base premise.  Why do we have any rights at all?  Where do they come from?  What are ‘rights’?  The dictionary tells us that a right is “A moral or legal entitlement to have or do something.”  The definition given by Wikipedia is better; “Rights are legal, social, or ethical principles of freedom or entitlement; that is, rights are the fundamental normative rules about what is allowed of people or owed to people, according to some legal system, social convention, or ethical theory.”

Perhaps I should restate my position slightly.  I do not object to the concept of rights per se, but to the conception of rights as it seems to be in the minds of many people.  People seem to think that rights are fundamental, built into the laws of physics, objective, self-evident and absolute.  I think that they are far more important than that.

I’ve seen a placard in a picture of a protest bearing the slogan ‘Education is a right, not a privilege’.  I disagree.  Education is a privilege, and being so, is much more important than a right.  Freedom is a privilege, family is a privilege, even food and water and life are privileges, and not everyone has them.  Now, please don’t think for a moment that I’m suggesting that some people ought not to have them; quite the opposite.  However, I think that if you assume that these things are inalienable rights that people ought to have ‘just because’, it’s far too easy to undervalue them.

Living in the UK, I am fortunate to live in a society that permits me these privileges.  I could very easily have been born in a place or a time period in which I do not have access to all or any of these privileges, and I am extremely grateful for the fact that I have been.  I’m not suggesting that we should live in a state of grovelling gratitude to our governments for supplying and enforcing these privileges, rather we should very carefully watch them to ensure that they continue to do so. 

But why should I care whether others have these privileges, as long as I do?  Well, ultimately it’s a case of ‘Do as you would be done by’.  I consider them to be a Good Thing, and it is right that all people should share these privileges; I continue to contend that this is not the same as them being ‘rights’.  Indeed, because it is right that people should have them, they stop being privileges, and become more important still; they become responsibilities.  I do not have the right to be free; I have the responsibility to use my freedom well, and to ensure the freedom of others.  I do not have the right to free speech; I have the responsibility to use my speech for good, and for ensuring that others can do so as well.  I do not have the right to life or happiness; I am responsible for my own, and for the life and happiness of everyone else, and they are responsible for mine.

The Conservative party has stated that they wish to scrap the EU Declaration of Human Rights.  I can't say that this strikes me as a wholly good idea, but if they do, I think that they could do worse than to replace it with a Declaration of Human Responsibilities.  If we held people accountable when they failed in their responsibilities, rather than simply allowing people to appeal when they feel they have not been accorded their rights, I think the world would be a much better place.

We seem to think very highly of our rights.  It would be a much better world if instead we thought as highly about our responsibilities, and were as grateful for our privileges.  It seems to me that we would be less eager to give them up, and less likely to abuse them or take them for granted.

But of course, you have every right to disagree, if you want to.

Freedom, Trust and Responsibility

Continuing to think about the questions of free speech and its responsible use, I thought I would clarify something that I’ve hinted at or mentioned in passing to or three times in previous posts, and that’s my attitude towards laws against inciting religious or racial hatred, or hatred at all for that matter.

My first thought when presented with these concepts was “Great idea!  Speech should be free, but clearly persuading people to commit acts of violence is not on!”  But that’s not what these laws mean.  Incitement to violence is a crime, and, I think, rightly so, but inciting hatred?  I have become convinced that making this illegal isn’t right.  Don’t get me wrong, hatred is a terrible thing, both for the hated and (perhaps especially) for the hater.  However, stopping incitement of hatred is not the same as stopping hatred itself.  People shouldn’t hate, not because they’re not allowed to (or rather because they’re not allowed to speak or act on it), but because they’ve seen that there is no reason to.

For me, the question of an open society, and of having an open mind, is that all ideas be allowed to sink or float on their own merits.  It is true that some ideas are more subjective than others, others are less so.  The point is that any idea should be allowed to be aired, and people have the right to decide whether or not they think it makes sense.

A few years ago, Nick Griffin, the leader of the British National Party was to appear on Question time.  The organisation Unite Against Fascism campaigned to prevent him from being allowed to air his opinions on national television, and tried to physically prevent him from entering the BBC building.  I can only assume that their name is meant ironically.  Happily, the BBC stuck to its guns and allowed Nick Griffin to speak.  As expected, when he did so, he showed himself up for the ignorant, unpleasant little man he is.  His ideas were permitted to be aired in public, and taken on their own merits, which were very few indeed.

If I stand on a soap box in the middle of the street, and cry out loud and clear that all people who make their porridge with water, salt and pepper (ick!) are vile sub-human morlocks who deserve to be stoned to death, I will rightly be judged to be a blithering idiot, and my opinions given the scant credence they deserve.  If I cry out that all black people are sub-humans that deserve to be subjugated, then my views should be treated in exactly the same way.  That is, they should be able to be aired, considered and judged on their own merits (in this case, none whatsoever).  Such opinions are certainly offensive, but they are also completely idiotic.  Should they be illegal though?  If I produce a radio broadcast trying to persuade people that Methodists are all insane and evil fanatics who ought to be swept up into ghettoes and not allowed out, my views should again be considered and judged on their merit or lack thereof.  For my own good, I should probably then be committed to a reasonably secure institution.  Bur should there be a law against being a blithering idiot or a frothing lunatic?  Does using the term ‘lunatic’ constitute hate-speech against people with mental health problems?  If it does, should that be illegal?

I’ve said that incitement to violence is rightly a crime, but I’m now not even sure of that.  No matter how persuasive I can be, am I ultimately responsible for someone else’s actions?  If I told you to go and kill the first blonde person you meet, and you do so, am I responsible for your actions?  In the case of someone who is emotionally or mentally vulnerable, and therefore isn’t necessarily fully responsible for their own actions, then yes, possibly.  For most people though?

Ultimately, what this comes down to is whether or not we think that human beings can be permitted the responsibility to make their own decisions.  Do we trust people to be able to listen to a wide variety of conflicting theories and opinions and beliefs, and judge them as objectively as it is possible for us to do, weigh their flaws and merits and come to a reasonable conclusion?  Can we trust people to listen to the imam who preaches death to non-Muslims, the pastor who preaches death to homosexuals, the imbecile preaching death to salt-and-pepper-porridge-eaters, and expect them to be able to say ‘You’re an idiot’?  Not because they feel pressured into saying it, but because that’s what they actually think, and are not afraid to say it.

Take it a step further.  We talk about ‘freedom’.  Can people be trusted to be free at all?  Can we trust people to use their freedom responsibly?  If we can’t, then why do we hold the concept of freedom so highly?

I am an idealist, especially when it comes to human nature.  I believe that we can be trusted, but only if we ensure that people are able to hear all the arguments, in every direction, not some sanitised and carefully filtered version of the world, in which speech is limited only to what we agree with, or don’t find offensive.  The case of Nick Griffin ably demonstrated the adage ‘remain silent and be thought a fool, or open your mouth and remove all doubt’.  We need to allow every fool to open their mouth and allow people to see them for what they are.

That’s my opinion anyway, but I trust you to take it or leave it on its own merits.