Choice, Autonomy, and Suffering: A Historical Perspective
As I have been wrestling through this topic of suffering and our attitude towards it, I’ve wondered about how the role of our attitude toward our lives and the control we think we have and try to exert over it affects our attitude toward suffering—and, thus, how we suffer. I’ve been thinking about we, in the modern West compared to all of human history preceding it[1] and how the difference in our ways of life shape our response to suffering. Are there differences? If so, does one way versus the other exacerbate or reduce the effects of suffering on our lives? For, it seems that if there is a way of life or mental attitude which could aid us in our suffering, it would be worth considering.
In the modern, affluent West, we have more choices than any society in human history. We can choose where we want to live, which career to pursue, if and whom we want to marry, hobbies, clubs, organizations, how to spend our time—all according to what we want.
Conversely, for all of human history prior to the modern West people have, by and large, had none of those choices. Whether rich or poor, you could not choose where you lived, your profession, or your spouse, and it was unlikely that you had time for recreation or hobbies.
How might the difference in the two ways of life—which unavoidably shape our view of and response to the world—impact how we respond to suffering? I would argue that it couldn’t help but do so. Consider first how our greater belief in (and expectation of) autonomy and control shapes our attitude toward and response to suffering:
We think we can fix problems when they arise—because we often do.
Because we often fix problems, we are frequently caught off guard when problems (suffering) happen to us—particularly suffering we cannot escape. (“How could this happen?” “I don’t deserve this!” “Why me?”)
When we cannot escape suffering, we feel out of control and powerless, which we dislike and resent.
Second, contrast that with how someone with a lesser belief in (and expectation of) autonomy and control over their lives would, plausibly, respond to suffering These are the people described earlier who live(d) in circumstances with far fewer choices:
Often, the problems they face are out of their control (e.g., lack of food, lack of medical care/treatment to solve medical problems, death from afflictions easily cured or solved today, etc.)
Because they have no control over major sources of suffering in their lives, they have no expectation to the contrary—and are, thus, not (necessarily) angry or resentful when suffering—which was common—comes.
Their response to suffering would, more likely, be sadness and grief, not protracted anger and resentment.[2]
Am I suggesting that our autonomy is bad and that we should shun it? No. I am unsure how we could, even if we should. I am positing the idea that our view of our autonomy could be problematic with respect to how we respond to suffering—and might, therefore, make our suffering worse.
We have autonomy to an extent, that is true. We can choose to do or not do many things each day. But we are not omnipotent, and I wonder if, sometimes, we forget that. You may scoff at that, since none of us really believe we are omnipotent; but our actions when faced with the limitations of our autonomy betray, at least our desires, if not our belief. How do you react when traffic grinds to a halt and you’re late for a meeting? What about when you become ill (whether it’s short or long term) and “can’t afford” to be sick because it’s either inconvenient or there are tasks you must do or you, literally, can’t afford it.
For those of us who live in societies (e.g., in the modern West) which provide many opportunities for us to exercise our autonomy, we face a special challenge: we absorb from our culture a belief in and, subsequently, a feeling of entitlement to autonomy in nearly every aspect of our lives. This leads to the reaction we commonly experience when faced with events ranging from mere annoyances to agonizing pain and suffering. This reaction is the angry, resentful one I described above as well as in the earlier article on the Enlightenment’s effect on our view of suffering.
Interestingly, our view of personal autonomy, in which we view ourselves as free from external constraint (or ought to be so) is a modern invention which began in the Enlightenment and developed powerfully by Kant.[3] This is not to suggest that, prior to the Enlightenment, that autonomy was a foreign concept. Rather, it is that it was thought of radically differently, as began with Aristotle. In Nicomachean Ethics he discusses, not autonomy, but voluntarily action and self-sufficiency. Voluntary action related to moral responsibility, and self-sufficiency related to what we depend on for our happiness: external goods, or contemplation for the purpose of virtue and practical wisdom.[4]
If all of this is true, and our reaction to suffering has changed in modern times compared to the rest of human history, then our reaction to suffering isn’t necessarily the “human” or “correct” or “normal” reaction. And if it is not, what is? How can we discover it? And why should we care?
One reason to care is that, if there is, indeed, value in suffering and if some suffering is inescapable, then we will not gain the maximum value possible from the suffering we are experiencing anyway if we spend our energy in anger, resentment, and bitterness. In other words, we will suffer anyway, but we will not gain value from it—or at least, not as much.
Of course, it’s possible our modern reaction is the “correct” (i.e., proper, healthy) one and that the reaction in all preceding millennia of human history is the improper, unhealthy one—but proper or improper according to what? That is too large a question to answer in a brief newsletter article, but I suspect the answer will not be found until we first understand the nature of the world in which we live: its moral nature in particular. Do we demand reality bend to how we want it, or do we do our best to understand the world as it is—even if there are aspects we don’t like—and conform ourselves to reality? Something to ponder.
[1] By “modern West” I’m referring to the period from the Enlightenment to the present.
[2] I am not here suggesting that ancients would not have gotten angry at their children going hungry or their spouse or children dying. But it’s doubtful they would have lived there, carrying it with them indefinitely due to expectations that such things should not happen to them (especially when it was happening to everyone else).
[3] See Schneewind, Jerome B. The Invention of Autonomy: A History of Modern Moral Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.
[4] See Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics. University of Chicago Press, 2011.