22.

VEILS OF WOE: BEATS AND PEEPING TOMS TOO.

When Mandy strolls along the seash.o.r.e and ruffians pepper her with pebbles, she is harmed. When Zahira crosses the park, veiled in Muslim garb, and hooligans mug her, she too is harmed. Many of us, devotees of John Stuart Mill, feel that people should be free to get on with their lives as they want, so long as they are not harming others, unless those others consent.This is Mill's Harm Principle.The ruffians and hooligans are inflicting harms without justification and without consent; they simply ought not to be doing what they do. Now for puzzling cases.

Zahira is a modest woman, committed to Islam. Unbeknownst to her, when she undresses, a peeping Tom, Tom, peeps upon her. She never knows about Tom and his peeping predilections, but is she not harmed? She loves pottering in her garden, but, when summer suns shine, she stays indoors. Mandy, her neighbour, sunbathes topless.

Zahira finds it offensive; yet is she harmed? Zahira knows that Mandy leads a s.e.xually disreputable life, dismissive of religions, prophets, and holy scriptures. Is Zahira harmed because of what she knows goes on next door, albeit veiled by curtains?

Mandy basks under the sun, on a public beach, topless, where others too are topless. Here, she is peppered by frequent glances from men who just happen to stroll nearby; they make her uncomfortable. Is she harmed? A few fundamentalist Muslims, including Zahira, and evangelical Christians, for once all united, parade along the beach. They wave placards denouncing atheists, public nudity, and s.e.xual immorality. More harms for Mandy? She is upset by some shouts of 'h.e.l.lfire' for her friends, family, and herself. 'How could they even think such things?'

Mandy gives up on the beach; Zahira gives up on the parade. They take the train back home, acknowledging each other awkwardly. In the carriage, they are peppered by the beats of leaking MP3 players, jingles from mobile phones, and worse. At home, they cannot escape adjacent building works' drillings during the day. And, some nights, their very different thoughts and sleep are disrupted by car alarms and burglar alarms, all false alarms. Are they harmed?

On the next sunny afternoon, Mandy returns to her garden to sunbathe, but then feels uneasy at upsetting her Muslim neighbour. Her Muslim neighbour, now indoors, feels somewhat uneasy at her condemnation of Mandy.

Where do harms begin - and end?

Mill is often criticized for not defining 'harm', but a definition is unlikely to help: witness a problem with 'games' in Chapter 15,* and the living is easy and the living is easy. Were an accurate definition given, then it should feature the same fuzzy uncertainties that we already find in applying 'harm'. In the end, we need to consider cases: we need to consider them* case by case.

Zahira knows nothing ofTom's peeping. However, it is not necessary to experience harms to be harmed. People are knocked unconscious and die; they are harmed, yet unaware. True, being peeped upon is not a harm like that. Some insist that it is a harm only if discovered; but that is unconvincing. Were Zahira to find out about the peeping, she would be distressed. Why? Because of what she found out about, namely being peeped upon: were that not harmful, why would she be distressed at finding out? Zahira's interests extend beyond what she experiences. It is in her interests, given her feelings about privacy, not to be peeped upon.

A compelling and similar example concerns betrayal. If you are betrayed, you are harmed - even if the betrayal remains undiscovered and has no effect on your life's progress. We are not, of course, remotely suggesting that non-experienced harms are typically as bad as experienced ones. To be peppered by gun shot is usually radically worse than being in receipt of some peeping.

What of the distress that Zahira suffers simply in knowing of, to her mind, the unsavoury activities behind closed curtains next door? In the peeping case, although Zahira experiences no distress, she is being used by Tom for his peeping pleasure. Mandy's activities, though, do not make use of Zahira. Zahira's distress results because of her belief belief that such activities are immoral; and her belief is her responsibility. Perhaps we should, then, disregard, or at least treat lightly, harms, a.s.suming that they should even be considered as harms, that depend upon victims holding certain moral or religious beliefs. On this view, we should treat lightly Mandy's distress at the placards - as also certain religious believers' distress at some pop operas, cartoon caricatures, and prophets' names a.s.signed to teddy bears. However, privacy violations may then also seem to merit less concern. The possible distress at being peeped upon presumably needs victims to believe such exposure is wrong. We should remember, though, that privacy violations sport the morally disreputable feature of the victims being used by the violators for their own satisfactions, without the victims' consent. It is not at all so clear that those distressed by placards, cartoons, and teddy bears' names, are being used in some disreputable way by those who cause the distress - though, of course, sometimes that may be the intention. that such activities are immoral; and her belief is her responsibility. Perhaps we should, then, disregard, or at least treat lightly, harms, a.s.suming that they should even be considered as harms, that depend upon victims holding certain moral or religious beliefs. On this view, we should treat lightly Mandy's distress at the placards - as also certain religious believers' distress at some pop operas, cartoon caricatures, and prophets' names a.s.signed to teddy bears. However, privacy violations may then also seem to merit less concern. The possible distress at being peeped upon presumably needs victims to believe such exposure is wrong. We should remember, though, that privacy violations sport the morally disreputable feature of the victims being used by the violators for their own satisfactions, without the victims' consent. It is not at all so clear that those distressed by placards, cartoons, and teddy bears' names, are being used in some disreputable way by those who cause the distress - though, of course, sometimes that may be the intention.

As for disturbances by beat music and the like, we may be generous and agree that the racketeers - so named because of their disturbances - were not intent on deliberately irritating Mandy and Zahira. Had they been so intent, then Mandy and Zahira would have been being used, akin to Zahira being peeped upon. Maybe the racketeers are merely living their lives as they want, just as the two women are trying to live theirs.

Mandy's lifestyle offends Zahira, but only because of Zahira's religious beliefs. Do the racketeers affect Mandy and Zahira only because of the women's beliefs? Well, no. Loud noises and even quiet repet.i.tive noises - think of dripping taps - cause discomfort, stress, and 'on edge' feelings in some people, sometimes significantly affecting their health. These harms do not appear to be dependent on belief. But the racketeers may also feel tense, if deprived of their beats and mobile burblings; perhaps they too could suffer some physical harms, if repressing what they want to do.

'Lifestyles clash.' Is that all we can say - or are there not some relevant differences here? Suppose our starting point is people sitting on the train, travelling from A to B. Let us add some activities. Mandy reads.That usually affects no one else. She falls asleep; that usually affects no one else. Non-racketeers could listen to music turned down; that would affect no one else. Harms and disputes arise because the racket is being inflicted on unwilling others.

Perhaps the morally relevant feature here is the physical one-way one-way imposition of harms, an imposition that offends the Golden Rule: do not do to others what you would not like yourself. Of course, even if that principle is accepted, it does not follow that it should take highest priority in our moral thinking. Further, it says nothing about what counts as 'doing the same'. Those who enjoy loud noise or leering at others may not mind loud noise and leers in return. True, we may avoid that objection by arguing that at the very least those who harm others probably do not want to be harmed themselves; but that imposition of harms, an imposition that offends the Golden Rule: do not do to others what you would not like yourself. Of course, even if that principle is accepted, it does not follow that it should take highest priority in our moral thinking. Further, it says nothing about what counts as 'doing the same'. Those who enjoy loud noise or leering at others may not mind loud noise and leers in return. True, we may avoid that objection by arguing that at the very least those who harm others probably do not want to be harmed themselves; but that returns us to our puzzlement about the nature of harms. * * *

Displayed above are some factors that are relevant to the question of which harms are morally significant. Two points should be added.

The first. As Mill notes, even when some activities are harmful, they may rightly be permitted. Car driving leads to accidents; but travelling benefits are taken to outweigh those harms. The overall benefit of free expression may well outweigh the distress caused to Zahira and Mandy. We should, though, be cautious when told that because certain benefits clearly outweigh certain harms it follows that therefore some specified means to those benefits are justified. Other possible means need to be taken into account. Here is an example.

Burglary prevention is, no doubt, of overall benefit. But it follows neither that burglar prevention through inefficient noisy alarms is overall beneficial nor that there may not be better means of prevention. After all, those benefits arguably could be achieved by the fun of neon lights announcing across the property 'Help, help, I'm being burgled' or, more seriously, direct alerts to the police. We may even question the necessity of much building works' noise that distress many people, reducing their quality of life: research could probably lead to effective silencers or quiet laser equipment. Some may immediately respond that all this would be too expensive or impractical, forgetting how over the decades authorities have made similar claims about the expense or impracticality of national health services, lead-free petrol, and banning cars from city centres - the list could go on.

The second point to note. Let us not forget courtesy, grace -fellow feeling and good will. For people to insist that they should be free to do whatever they want, by way of leaking beat music, dirty shoes on public transport seats - for bars and media organizations to promote excessive drinking and loutish culture - is to display basic discourtesies and ill will. Arguably, many individuals who do these things know no better, or - and this is a sad reflection - have nothing better to do.

Are these last points a manifestation of grey beard and age -or of some minimal sensitivity that many people quietly endorse and many others would endorse once seriously reflecting on not harming others?

Art/Seeing

23.

PAINTINGS, WITHIN AND WITHOUT.

Paint some doors - and for a while we are painters, but not thereby painters of pictures. The difference between painters and painters, as we may bewilderingly say, is that, in paint application, house painters typically are not aiming to represent things in their brush-strokes, colours, and textures, in contrast to painters, artists, who create paintings, destined to be hung or hidden. Let us steer towards the paintings found hanging.

Gaze at clouds, stare at winter's frosty window panes, or peer at foliage - even at the dust around us, or rather, around me. A remarkable fact - a fact worthy of remark - is that what we see is more, far more, than first meets the eye. In the clouds, the frost, the leaves - the dust - we may see a beautiful face, a grotesque beast or the smile of a friend. And when we catch that glimpse, what we see looks different from what we saw before.Ill.u.s.tration by David Berger

The drawing here is seen by many immediately as a duck; many others see a rabbit. Most observers flick between the two, seeing the long protuberances, stretching to the right, first as a duck's beak, then as a rabbit's ears. Although the drawing may be seen as a duck - or a rabbit - we cannot see the lines simultaneously appearing as a duck and also appearing as a rabbit. That is puzzling. A duck cannot also be a rabbit, so perhaps it is impossible for something to appear as a curious creature, a duck-rabbit. But there is no obvious contradiction in a drawing appearing to someone as a duck and also appearing as a rabbit at the same time. Yet this does not happen - apparently.

Paintings often represent - picture or depict - scenes, items, and events: people, landscapes, bowls of fruit, be they real or fictional, particular or no. The Mona Lisa Mona Lisa is of a particular woman. Other paintings may represent women, but none in particular.Yet others represent what do not exist: mermaids, satyrs, and fauns. One puzzle is - and let us use 'paintings' to include drawings, when speaking generally - is of a particular woman. Other paintings may represent women, but none in particular.Yet others represent what do not exist: mermaids, satyrs, and fauns. One puzzle is - and let us use 'paintings' to include drawings, when speaking generally -

How do paintings picture things?

An immediate answer is 'resemblance'; but that, almost as immediately, puzzles us. Resemblance in which respects and between what? Paintings, hanging in art galleries, usually resemble each other far more than anything they represent. After all, they are mainly rectangular in shape, on canvases, their surfaces brushed with watercolours, charcoal, or paint. The pictured horse, the landscape, the face, are nothing like blobs of paint rectangularly surrounded. Does the duck/rabbit drawing really resemble a flesh-and-blood creature rather than, say, just some other drawn lines?

Perhaps this quick criticism of the 'resemblance' approach involves a gross mistake. The painting - the canvas hanging on the wall - does not resemble the horse, the landscape, the woman's face. Perhaps, though, the content of our experience, when viewing the canvas, is similar to that of our experience when looking at a real horse, the landscape, the woman. That, however, fails to explain the experience striking us so differently, depending whether we see the lines as of a duck or as of a rabbit.

Working on the resemblance approach, some suggest that paintings simply aim to deceive; they generate the illusion of our seeing, say, a real horse, when horses are otherwise visually absent. Now, a painting - a trompe l'xil trompe l'xil - can deceive us: we may be misled into thinking that peaches are present, when in fact there is only a painting carefully placed. But most paintings certainly do not deceive, even though they represent.This chapter's drawing does not mislead spectators into thinking a duck is squashed within this book. Muse upon other representations. Photographs may be black and white, yet the photographed are vibrantly coloured. Cartoons and caricatures paradoxically misrepresent what they represent. - can deceive us: we may be misled into thinking that peaches are present, when in fact there is only a painting carefully placed. But most paintings certainly do not deceive, even though they represent.This chapter's drawing does not mislead spectators into thinking a duck is squashed within this book. Muse upon other representations. Photographs may be black and white, yet the photographed are vibrantly coloured. Cartoons and caricatures paradoxically misrepresent what they represent.

These implausibilities, concerning representation as mere resemblance, lead some to flip to the other extreme, understanding representation as conventional, cultural, and not objectively resembling at all. We may agree, of course, that words, typically at least, represent by conventions.The word 'duck', 'd' followed by 'u' etc., does not resemble a duck. Paintings too, it is suggested, represent because of conventions and upbringings: witness how radically different are the styles of Impressionist, ancient Egyptian, and primitive cave paintings. As children grow up, depending upon surrounding conventions, they see some painting styles as the 'right' way of representing things rather than others. That 'right way' depends on us, not on objective resemblances out there in the world.

This conventional take on representation has major problems. Conventions exist whereby graphs represent temperature changes, yet graphs are not pictures. And is it really just a matter of convention that the Mona Lisa Mona Lisa represents a woman? If this were so, then, given the right circ.u.mstances, the represents a woman? If this were so, then, given the right circ.u.mstances, the Mona Lisa Mona Lisa could have represented a horse or hamster. There is surely at least something about a painting's look, independently of conventions and culture, which sets some boundaries. could have represented a horse or hamster. There is surely at least something about a painting's look, independently of conventions and culture, which sets some boundaries.

Paintings are curious objects. On the outside, so to speak, a painting is a canvas with paint.Yet we are aware of an inside: we see the horse in the painting - as we see figures in the clouds, and a duck or rabbit in this book. We are aware both of paintings as material objects and of what they represent; paintings possess both aspects, a without and a within.We are able to 'see in'. We cannot see, for example, this chapter's drawing as as a rabbit and duck simultaneously; but, when seeing it as one of those creatures, say, as a duck, we do simultaneously see the material object, the drawn lines, and see in those lines a duck. Awareness of this twofoldness prevents us from mistaking paintings for what it is that they represent. In seeing what is present, the configured surface, we also a rabbit and duck simultaneously; but, when seeing it as one of those creatures, say, as a duck, we do simultaneously see the material object, the drawn lines, and see in those lines a duck. Awareness of this twofoldness prevents us from mistaking paintings for what it is that they represent. In seeing what is present, the configured surface, we also see in see in what is absent - a duck, landscape, or face. what is absent - a duck, landscape, or face.

Artists usually paint so that viewers do see things in their paintings. Viewers may, of course, need information, sensitivity, some prompting, in order to see what artists have intended. Once they see, the visual experience differs from what it was before - just as promptings by means of a 'quack' may enable a viewer suddenly to see the duck in the duck/ rabbit. We may need to look more closely or carefully to see into some paintings - to see faces and limbs, or crags and valleys.

The visual experiences of 'seeing in' differ from those when seeing items in reality or the mind's eye. Paintings, just like words, may stimulate our imagination, but imagining scenes is not, of course, the same as seeing those scenes in paintings.

On the approach outlined, paintings represent in that they offer viewers the opportunity to see in see in. True, when we look at any written sentence, in our own language, we cannot help but see beyond the shapes to the meaning, but this is not because the shapes provide visual experiences of what is meant. We could draw the word 'duck' in such a way that we see a duck in the lines drawn - showing that there certainly is some difference between visual representation and the conventional.

We still lack an account of why it is that we see one thing rather than another in in a painting. Appeal to resemblance may return: the shapes on the canvas, as we experience them, are taken to resemble physical figures as if seen from a viewpoint in reality. Yet this is unsatisfactory, for those visual experiences depend on what we 'see in' the paintings. We risk circularity, if we explain 'seeing in' in terms of perceived resemblance in experiences, yet explain what we experience in terms of 'seeing in'. After all, the duck/rabbit drawing does look different, depending whether we see a duck or a rabbit. Why we see what we see, when we 'see in' a painting, remains puzzling. Indeed it is puzzling that in an unmoving painting we may yet see movement. 'Is it superst.i.tion to think a painting. Appeal to resemblance may return: the shapes on the canvas, as we experience them, are taken to resemble physical figures as if seen from a viewpoint in reality. Yet this is unsatisfactory, for those visual experiences depend on what we 'see in' the paintings. We risk circularity, if we explain 'seeing in' in terms of perceived resemblance in experiences, yet explain what we experience in terms of 'seeing in'. After all, the duck/rabbit drawing does look different, depending whether we see a duck or a rabbit. Why we see what we see, when we 'see in' a painting, remains puzzling. Indeed it is puzzling that in an unmoving painting we may yet see movement. 'Is it superst.i.tion to think I see the horse galloping in a picture?' asks Wittgenstein. * * *

Many people may, without reflection, a.s.sume that the puzzles of representation, of 'seeing in', do not apply to abstract paintings. When we first gaze at the abstract work of, say, Mondrian, Rothko, and Pollock, we may feel that they are far, far away from the representational. Yet, even here, we see things in the paintings.With Rothko, we may see colours hovering over or behind others, whether or not the paint was applied in that order. We may see lights shining through, moods and emotions. As we learn to see in see in, what we see before us is, in a way, no longer what we formerly saw.

And if the house painter stops us and says, 'No, that wall I've just painted is not "just painted", but is my painting - can't you see what I've painted?' we may gaze into the colour and see something in the paint, and not just a wall painted.

Logic/Law/Life

24.

THE Un.o.bTAINABLE: WHEN 'YES' MEANS 'NO'.

Human that we are, we often seek the un.o.btainable. Jack has a great pa.s.sion for Jill, but only so long as she remains aloof and un.o.btainable. Were she to say 'yes' to his marriage proposal, his desire would evaporate.We may sum this up by saying that Jack wants Jill if and only if she does not want Jack, that is, if and only if she does not say 'yes' to his proposal. No contradiction arises, just the misfortune of our perverse human nature.

Let us now add that Jill is a sensible and romantic woman. She will say 'yes' if and only if Jack wants her. Now, if she says 'no', then Jack wants her; so, then she should say 'yes', but that ensures that Jack does not want her - as a result, she then does not want Jack, which brings Jack back round to wanting her - and so on. The reasoning loops round and round. Let us bear this in mind, as we bring forth a little legal controversy involving Protagoras, an ancient Greek philosopher.

Protagoras gave legal training to Euathlus, an impoverished student. The condition set was that Protagoras would receive his fee, once Euathlus won his first court case. Euathlus, after his studies, gave up on the law, deciding instead to go into politics. Protagoras worried about his fee, but Euathlus pointed out that he was not required to pay until he had won a court case. So, Protagoras sued Euathlus for the fee - and lands us, seemingly, in a logical mire.

Should Protagoras get paid?

Protagoras argues that, whether he wins or loses the case, either way, Euathlus must then pay him. If he, Protagoras, wins his case for the money, then that simply means that he should be paid. If he loses the case, then Euathlus would have won his first case - and hence, by the contract's terms, he should get paid. Hence, he, Protagoras, cannot lose. Why even bother to have the case? Of course, lawyers are typically unhappy to have that last question raised.

Euathlus pursues a different line. 'If I lose the case, then I still have not won my first case, so obviously I should not pay. If, however, I win the case, then the court ruling says that I should not pay. Either way, I should not pay. Why even bother to have the case?' Of course, lawyers etc*

We note that Euathlus is defending himself. Were someone else defending, then they would be winning or losing. So, if Protagoras lost the case, Euathlus personally would not have won his first case - and so would not need to pay. And there would seem no grounds for Protagoras to win.

Protagoras and Euathlus present two different approaches, reaching conclusions in conflict, so something has gone wrong - but where? Perhaps the contract is itself inconsistent and hence impossible to fulfil: it seems to be saying that if Protagoras wins, then he loses, as well as allowing that if he wins then he wins - and similarly for Euathlus.Yet that criticism is itself open to criticism.The contract specifies what happens if Euathlus wins a case; it says nothing about what happens if Euathlus loses and a court rules that he should pay. We could clarify the contract by saying that Euathlus should pay Protagoras when when and and only when only when he wins a case. Let us hereafter deal with that clarified contract. he wins a case. Let us hereafter deal with that clarified contract.

What happens if, for example, Euathlus wins the court case in which the judgement is that he should not pay? That is a contradictory situation in which, it seems, he wins and yet does not win; he should not pay, yet should pay. A similar contradiction arises if he loses the court case in which the judgement is that he should pay. The judges may antic.i.p.ate the contradiction that arises whichever way they judge; they would do well to have a third way, of pa.s.sing no judgement. There is, though, no reason for seeking a fence-sitting way out.

We need to attend to the saga's temporal element. Judges are being asked whether Euathlus should pay. He should not pay until he has won a case. Hence, the judges could reason that he has not won yet, until they pa.s.s judgement. Hence, they pa.s.s judgement on the basis of his not having won a case yet, and so their judgement is in his favour - and he wins. Protagoras can then take Euathlus to court again. All will then be well for Protagoras. He now successfully argues that Euathlus has indeed won a case and so needs now to pay. All would not be well if the judges had ruled that Euathlus should never pay; but they would have no good reason to do that. * * * pay; but they would have no good reason to do that. * * *

The puzzle is akin to the Liar paradox. Someone sincerely announces, 'I am lying,' meaning that he is lying simply in saying that he is lying. With various caveats, if what he is saying is true, then he is not lying; but he says he is lying, so, he is telling the truth - hence, contradiction. If he is lying and so not telling the truth, then he is telling the truth because he says he is lying - contradiction again.With the Liar there is no easy temporal escape route from contradiction; this contrasts with the legal contract above. Neither truth nor falsity is fixedly obtainable in saying 'I am lying.'

Groucho Marx would not join a club that would have him as a member; and women may desire men, wanting them to propose marriage, yet once they propose, the men lose their desirability. We often want the un.o.btainable. The un.o.btainable is sometimes un.o.btainable because of practical matters, but sometimes because of deviancy in our wanting.

When I saw a fine burgundy velvet jacket in a sale, I dithered: was the colour too strong, fitting too tight, price too high? When the jacket appeared to have gone, the balance was tipped: I wanted it, regretting my earlier dithering. Yet when it turned out still to be available, dithering restarted. If available, jacket not wanted; if unavailable, jacket wanted.

We often engage in activities, seeking achievements - reaching the mountain top, discovering how the story ends, satisfying yearnings of pa.s.sion - yet also we resist reaching the ends, for, having achieved them, there is the anti-climax, the sadness, the emptiness. If only the bracing climb continued; if only there were another volume to the novel; if only the pa.s.sion persisted. And so, in writing these words, there is the pleasure of completion, yet also some loss, some sorrow, some post-chapter'd tristesse tristesse - well, for the author, if not the reader. - well, for the author, if not the reader.

Ethics/Religion

25.

PAST CARING?.

Allow me to make the introduction. Here is a thug, hereafter named 'Thug'. He is a complete and utter thug. Thug wallows in out-and-out violence, violence on defenceless others. He is about to be sentenced for raping, torturing, and then leaving a couple of women for dead. They survived, but have permanent injuries, both physical and psychological. He has terrorized neighbourhoods, beaten up frightened pensioners - and always with great glee. Thug stands in the dock. There is no flicker of remorse, no words of regret, no sense of guilt.Thug offers just a jeering defiant expression at the judge, jury, and victims left living.

Let us ignore practicalities of what prison sentences could or should be delivered. Let us not wonder about the best means of protecting society. Instead, let us wonder why we are, if we are, concerned about Thug, for his sake for his sake. After all, many would defend his human rights and be concerned for his welfare. In summary:

Why should we care about Thug?

Some immediately insist that we ought not to care; others stress our humanity, to justify our helping Thug, reforming Thug, making him see the error of his ways.We may approach the puzzle from two distinct starting points, namely, whether he is someone who cannot - or who can - help what he does. That is, whether he is not truly responsible for his actions and att.i.tudes - or whether he is truly responsible.

First, suppose he is not responsible. He cannot help what he does; he cannot help his anti-social att.i.tudes, his violence, his jeers. He is, in some way, victim of forces outside his control. That is possible. We recognize that brain damage, drugs, and unknown factors can cause people to act and say all manner of things. Thug, instead of acting as a free agent, is more akin to a tree being buffeted by gales, a ship broken by storms, or an insect driven by surrounding scents and colours. In this case, we may think of Thug as needing - and deserving - treatment rather than punishment, aid rather than pain.

If, indeed, he is not responsible, then he may also, though, be likened to a raging bull or a mad dog - so why not put him down? 'But that is inhumane,' it is said. 'Although he acts like an uncontrollable animal, he still possesses human rights. He has the potential to be a responsible agent, to be a person.'

But suppose that there is no cure for Thug. Suppose there is no potential. What then? Perhaps we cling to the thought that we can never be sure. Or maybe the motivation to care is irrational and in a sense mercenary. Society has supported his growing up; so, we are disinclined to give up on our investment, even though we should. Perhaps we simply cannot help but feel sorry for him; at some level, we empathize, compa.s.sion to the fore, reflecting on how dreadful it would be to find ourselves in his position.

Turning to the second approach, we suppose he is responsible for his actions. He happily embraces what he did, shows no signs of mental illness, other than his performance of the horrendous deeds. He vaunts being Thug. Why ever should we care about him in these circ.u.mstances? Two thoughts come to mind. One starts from him; one from us.

Starting from him, many religious believers insist that there exists a spark of goodness, of G.o.d, within us all - or at least a spark of divine potential. If only we could get through to Thug's spark, then he could be improved. Even if we cannot get through, he was made in G.o.d's image; that is why we should care. This approach is not exclusive to the religious. Humanists may hold a similar view, not in terms of G.o.dly sparks, but in terms of sparks of humanity. There may be the belief that, deep down within, there must be some good, or potential for good. In view of what Thug has done, though, and his continuing att.i.tude, we may well wonder: why believe that there is any good within him at all?

Confronting the Second World War's horrors of the murder of millions - the Shoah or Holocaust - some religious believers ask, 'Where was G.o.d?' The non-religious may ask, 'Where was man?' Both questions display a startled despair - despair that some individuals lack all sparks of divinity, all sparks of humanity, when dealing with certain other individuals or groups. Their eyes are closed to the humanity of those who have the 'wrong' looks or beliefs or origins.

Sometimes concern for Thug is based on simple thoughts such as every human being is unique and valuable. But whatever is the relevance of his being unique? Each pebble is unique, but it does not follow that it merits valuing.

Starting from us - to see why we perhaps care about Thug - we may possess a horrible feeling that we could have acted as he did. We may recognize that we possess potential for injuring others, for unkindness, even outright brutality, both calculated and spontaneous. Reflect on the sheer luck, the good fortune, of our upbringing and chances in life. Could anyone, in normal circ.u.mstances, truly want to be like Thug? That simply could not be a life-choice, save by people so damaged in their upbringing or so overwhelmed by circ.u.mstances. Might we not have been so desperate, so hopeless, or so misguided, that we would have acted in the ways of Thug? Think of how violent and brutal people can so quickly become, when whipped up. Think of neighbours burning neighbours, sparked by political crises in Kenya, Rwanda, Sudan - and many places elsewhere, including Europe.

The religious speak of 'there but for the grace of G.o.d go I', and the non-religious of our sheer good fortune in not living within such fervour and ferment.

We have deliberately ignored what needs to be done to protect society; so, let us not consider punishment as justified on the basis of deterring others. That is another matter. We remain concerned about our concern for Thug for his sake. Paradoxically, sometimes concern for him, as a free agent, is the attempted justification for punishing him.

Punishment is required, it is sometimes argued, because it respects Thug as a person, someone responsible for his actions. This is a retributive approach: a vital element is that he suffers for what he has done. If he deserves anything, it is certainly not, for example, a five star hotel, by golden sands and lapping ocean, waited on hand and foot. But how do we determine what he does rightly deserve? Use of 'an eye for an eye' principle is of no help in many cases and would lead to punishments that are morally repugnant. Would any decent person really, on reflection, want to mete out to Thug what he did to others?