The ethics of power

 

By Diotima

A triangular view

 

“Of course it’s ok to do it, Diotima – if it wasn’t ok for us to do it we wouldn’t be able to!”

--or--

“Power corrupts....”

The first of these phrases occurred during a discussion of the use of magic, the second is a well known quotation from Lord Acton.  It’s not the complete quotation – it continues, of course, “absolute power corrupts absolutely”.  However the first part of the quotation is more than enough for my purposes at the moment.  The two phrases come at the same concept from different angles – and that concept is responsibility.

The first phrase embodies what is in essence an abnegation of personal responsibility.  Broken down to basics, it says that what I can do, I may do; there is no need for ethical judgement on my part because everything that is possible is licit, allowable[1].  It relies on some other power, which allows or does not allow my action, to make such decisions for me.

It fascinates me that we would accept such reasoning in the realm of magical work – broadly defined[2] – while we don’t in any other area of life.  An explanation to a police officer, “But if my car can reach a speed of 100 miles an hour, obviously it’s ok for me to drive at that speed” is unlikely to cut much ice.  As drivers, we’re expected to balance the power the use of a car gives us (and the power of self propelled quarter ton of metal is fairly impressive) against not only the laws of the land and physics but the good of others.

I may drive up to 70 miles an hour on a British motorway, but there are often conditions under which it is dangerous to do so.  Legally, I may do, but in terms of my own safety and that of others, I should not do so.  The state doesn’t invest in a system to mark the safe speed limit on all roads; drivers are expected to display a modicum of sense and judgement about driving conditions.

Of course, there are speed limits in place: the state clearly doesn’t trust drivers to the extent of not having a general norm.  As a road user and sometime pedestrian, I’m rather pleased about that: my faith in the judgement of my fellow road users is not always profound. 

One might then consider that in driving there are three levels of constraint: that imposed by the machine itself, that imposed by the law, and finally (and arguable most importantly and most nebulously) that of personal judgement[3].

I’d argue that this three fold set of constraints operate in a number of areas and indeed I can see no reason that they should not.  The levels seem to be: what is possible, what is legal (or accepted as licit or reasonable by a particular group) and individual judgement.  There is a narrowing movement taking place: one could envision this as an inverted triangle with the judgement of the agent at the point on which the triangle stands.

“What is possible” needs, perhaps, little discussion: something is either possible (driving at 70 miles an hour) or it is not (walking at 70 miles an hour is an activity against which no one will bother to make laws because it is not possible).

The middle section, of course, brings different issues with it, and it is here that one might be said to move from ethics (the study of morality) to morality itself.  Morality may be defined as, “an informal public system… governing behaviour that affects others, having the lessening of evil or harm as its goal….” (Audi 1999, pg. 586).  However, it would seem that the overall issues, the macro level if you like (“what may I do?”), must be understood and decided before the individual ones (“what should I do in this situation?”); therefore the journey through the triangle remains an ethical one.

Of course, this second level – what is imposed or permitted by the law – one immediately comes up against the question of, “What law?”  The regulatory body I have in mind in relation to magic is not the state legislation which (depending on locality) may be more or less ignorant of magic use. Each practitioner will have to find the answer to this level for herself: for some, there will be traditional strictures which lend guidance, for others, the Rede; others may have nothing they feel fits into this section of the triangle.  I would argue that this second level – as the first before it – is merely a preparation for the final part; if one is forced to skip this level, the path may be a bit less well illuminated than might otherwise be, but it’s still passable.

Because, after all, one does wish to get to the apex of the triangle (even if it’s standing on its head); surely the point of rules and regulations in regard to ethics is not solely to command obedience to the letter of the law, but also to its spirit?  When we impose rules, whether for safe driving or for curfew times for children, we hope that eventually those subjects to the rules will become self regulating, and such indeed is what must happen in the example given above about the licit speed limit being frankly unsafe: the hope is that drivers will learn to judge what is safe as well as  what is legal.

My interlocutor mentioned at the outset saw only the hypotenuse, however, only the broadest point of this triangle. For them, “possible” equated to “licit”: if I can do it, I may do it, full stop.

I can think of no other area of life where one might apply such a view.  One’s friendships and relationships would not last long if one operated in such a way, and it would be interesting to try to explain this sort of ethical stance to an employer: it would legitimate everything from personal use of a company phone to large scale company fraud – if one is able to do it (make thousands of personal photocopies on a company machine or transfer funds), then clearly one may do so.  I do not foresee a long employment life with such an attitude.

We are often loud in our complaints about increasing constraint and control on our lives: from the possible introduction of identity cards to a new system of employee tracking, we raise a protest at being watched and controlled. We are, we contend, honest, reasonable adults who do not need such levels of supervision.

We may well be: when,  and if, we operate at or near the inverted apex of the responsibility pyramid.  The further up the shape we go, toward the broad top, the more incentive there is for an outside body to exercise control.

At least, that’s the way it  works when dealing with entities like the state, one’s employer, in adolescents dealing with parents (and vice versa).  A proven record of lack of personal control is likely to call froth sanctions from an outside body.

What, then, of magic use? For the most part, there is no outside body involved; often there is no group to which the magic user can refer with questions of ethics. I think with the move to a discussion of magic, we move from my first quotation to the second.  My decision to drive at 70 miles an hour on a deserted motorway covered in snow and black ice is likely to be self-correcting; the chances are high that I won’t be around to make such a literally self-destructive decision a second time. The choice my not corrupt me in that sense, but it will quite likely kill me. How does this relate to magic?

Magic use, I would argue, has (at least) a two fold effect.  First, there is the obvious, outward effect, whatever it is that the magic is meant to actually do, or accomplish.  Sometimes this effect is obvious, sometimes it is not.

The second level of effect, however, is very rarely obvious, because it is the one on the practitioner herself.  Magic use is a quintessential personal choice.[4] I would argue that all our choices have, if you like, a once and future effect on the kinds of people we are, and magic use is no exception.

With every choice, we mould the sorts of character (to use the old fashioned term) we have.  Eating brussel sprouts, early morning runs and taking cold showers may not have the beneficial effect on character our grandparents thought they had, but it might be difficult to argue that our own choices have the same lack of effect.  Indeed, it is usually the lack of choice about eating unpalatable vegetables etc., that was advanced as a counter argument  to the Victorian character building regimes: if it is not my choice but yours that I do a particular thing, how does it build my character?  It might build obedience but it does not contribute a lot to personal responsibility.  It keeps me, at the very best, at the second level of the triangle, with no desire or need to move beyond it.

Yet often, in terms of magic use, personal choice is the major determinate of action.  It is for this reason I used the phrase, once and future.  With every choice, we not only affect the external, outside consequence,  we render ourselves more likely to make a like choice again in the future.  In a very real sense, we begin to form a moral, decision making rut for ourselves.

There are few, I think, who would claim to understand completely how magic works.  This aspect, of how it works on the practitioner, is perhaps the most neglected aspect of all.

But I feel that it is neglected at a certain cost.  The exercise of magic is an exercise of power – it need not corrupt  (in fact it may perfect and refine – after all, alchemy sought this as a goal) but unless the magic user is aware of the possibility of corruption, the proverb may prove to be all too true.

 

 

Audi, R., Ed. (1999). The Cambridge dictionary of philosophy.  Second1995. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

 

Blecourt, W., Hutton, R., et al. (1999). Witchcraft and magic in Europe: The twentieth century. Ankarloo, B. a. C., S The Athlone history of witchraft and magic in Europe. London, The Athlone Press.

 

Flint, V., Gordon, R., et al. (1999). Witchcraft and magic in Europe: Ancient Greece and Rome. Ankarloo, B. a. C., S Witchcraft and magic in Europe. London, The Athlone Press.

 

Graf, F. (1997). Magic in the Ancient World (Revealing Antiquity). Cambridge, Mass., Harvard University Press.

 

Hutton (1999). The triumph of the moon: A history of modern pagan witchcraft. Oxford, Oxford University Press.

 

Luhrmann (1999). Persuasions of the witch's craft: Ritual magic in contemporary England. Oxford, Blackwell Publishers.

 



[1] “Licit” or “allowable” do not necessarily require being answerable to any outside authority – actions can be licit or not according to one’s own personal code of ethics; in fact, most ethical systems come down to this, one way and another.

[2] I’ve no intention of offering a specific definition for magic. There are others who have attempted this, with perhaps one of the best overviews being available in (Hutton 1999).  Other sources would range from the ancient views (Flint, Gordon et al. 1999; Graf 1997) through to the more modern (Blecourt, Hutton et al. 1999; Luhrmann 1999), with any number of stops along the way.

[3] One could add a fourth constraint: fear. I’m perfectly certain my car can reach speeds at which I would be afraid to drive it.  However, at  its highest end, this fear-constraint would certainly be beyond that of the law.

[4] It would be interesting to explore whether or not it would be possible to be forced to perform a magical act – considering the importance normally placed on will, it might be very difficult to force such an action.

 

 

Contact:

 

Diotima

Diotima@hotmail.com

 

 

Bio:

Diotima was the teacher who led Socrates to an appreciation of the nature of love and its relation to philosophy and the world in general. The current author is not Diotima of Mantinea, but she does believe firmly that the dichotomy between thought and feeling, between "mind" and "heart", has crippled Western society for far too long; she works in whatever way she can to redress that balance, through writing, poetry and teaching.

 Email: Diotima_sophia@hotmail.com

(list of publications: http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=diotima_soph )