“NO, we can think, say and do whatever we want” most people say, adding, (if they feel kind) “Bread is 60 bucks a pop, grandpa, ya can take it or leave it”.
This is shallow, casual and
anarchic thinking that has washed over the world like a plague. So much so that
each time I have thought “there cannot be anything more vicious than that”,
“there cannot be anything more terrible than that”, “there cannot be anything
more disgusting than that” I have been forced to recalibrate lower. In
every new time, clime and social sub-stratum I traversed, I saw people standing
on their rights to what they want, screwing themselves, screwing the world and assailing
me with new and improved versions of human viciousness. Clobbering me with
bigger and better versions of human failure.
Horror in human thought, word and deed was a bottomless pit I concluded.
These days, be it politics, religion, education, ethnicity, medicine, finance,
art, fashion, war; there are few men and
fewer matters that can elicit more than an amused smile and casual shake of my
head. Mildly tragic perhaps, but nothing
really surprises me anymore. But one.
Quality surprises me. Nay. The
presence of quality in people, ideas and things shocks the living bejesus outta
me. And I was surprised to say the least
when I came across it in an article by Gamini Akmeemana titled “Math, Idiocy and All
Those Sums Which Don’t Add Up”. He and I both seem to share a mutual regard
for Robert Pirsig and his book “Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance”.
He and I both seem to share a mutual
regard for Robert Pirsig. He says a few nice things about stuff I’d written
earlier but that was not the reason why I think he is a quality human being.
Not as a reciprocal patting of backs but rather as a statement of fact, he did
three things in that article that set him way apart from the raff that I deal
with on a daily basis. In it, he said a beautiful thing, he did a beautiful thing,
he triggered a beautiful thing. Any one
of those is kinda rare but to be at the receiving end of all three at a single
sitting is indeed an event. Let me take a few paragraphs to explain because I
feel that will give me a nice Segway into the topic and an opportunity to
present eventually, a comparative example.
First, even before I read the
piece, I saw his strapline where he says that books are not mentioned anymore. With
that statement he indicated a love of books and a nostalgia for their true worth
as precious and valuable creatures, pets even, that can, as Pirsig says “edify”
and not merely inform. To be read, reread, caressed, dog-eared, underlined,
annotated, mulled over, discussed. Giving them relationships with their readers
that are unique and personal and pretty much impossible with your Kindle
versions of them. In an age and day where the time between thought formation,
thought consolidation and thought dissemination is zero, where knowledge
acquisition has been completely subsumed by information interchange and
information overload, where harried people hurry through their own experiences
and those of others, where, as Gamini says, “today’s big becomes tomorrow’s
trivia” it indicates an uncommonly even keeled person. When I saw that, I fondly
remembered the greatest love strong ever written about the love of books:
Helene Hanff’s “84, Charring Cross Street” and I silently saluted Gamini
for bringing those memories flooding back.
Next, he excellently outlined the
gist of a very complicated read with a tapestry of images veined with the
thread of all of those sums that cannot possibly add up through any rubric
known to modern man. As I was writing my previous piece, the thought had
crossed my mind that I should speak in greater detail of Pirsig’s brilliant
defense of Sophism and rhetoric and his deviously clever strategy to sweep the
church of reason and dialectics into the intellectual dustbin. But that task is
no longer required. Gamini has executed it very well.
Finally, he took me back to the meat
of the book itself and Pirsig’s tortuous route to understanding the meaning of
quality. Those memories also put in
sharp relief, its most lasting takeaway for me. It is when Pirsig, towards the
end of the book, in what I consider to
be its most powerful and dramatic chapter, finally ties his real self
“Phaedrus” to a Platonic dialogue of the same name and says “What is good,
Phaedrus and what is not good, need we ask anyone to tell us these things?”. This is both the apex question and the rhetoric
answer to the question “what is
quality?” where this quality in
described in terms of the Greek word araté meaning moral value. It triggered in me the thought that I should
write about that at some future date and with that thought came another one.
That the man making me think all of this was a man of quality.
It is tempting to leave this
question in the realm of Sophism and rhetoric where Pirsig left it. I would be
justified in walking away with a vague sense of easy unease that the question
was completely and fully answered - not through the convenient method of
actually answering it but rather, by expanding the potency of the
question-answer matrix to the point where any dialectic answer would be the
silly indulgence of the church of reason and its henchwoman – rationality. Yet,
we have moved on from a hundred years ago when guys like Pirsig was battling
these issues. More importantly, we, as easterners, know that our dharma licked
this problem of quality yonks ago through ways of seeing (dharshana or
philosophy) that the west (Pirsig included) found difficult to understand. We
used a whole body of material generally described by such words as sathdharma,
saarachiththa, sathguna, sathyakriya to explain moral value. Rather than
delve into the complex intricacies of these terms, I will give an idea of araté through a comparison of how the meaning
of a set of key social tasks and those assigned to execute them have changed
over time. Those that I choose for this example are the ones associated with
protection and the reason I choose them is that they are the foundation upon whose
strength all societies and all nations either fly or fall.
The things that protect us and
make us safe, we value over all else. The people that protect us and make us
safe, we revere above all others. There are four ways in which we are protected
and there are four types of people who use them for our protection.
We are protected by knowledge, we
are protected by truth, we are protected by medicine and we are protected by
the material requisites of food, clothing, shelter and security from physical
attack. Until quite recent, these factors, also known as the four societal
shields against disaster, were deemed so critical that they were provided to
all for free. The first was provided by teachers, the second by the
renunciates, the third by healers and the fourth by the kings.
Gurukama, pavidikama, vedakama
and rakajama as we used to call
them protected us. I use the past tense here on purpose. Not too far back, kings thought, spoke and
acted in accordance with the kingly virtues and disciplines (raaja dharma,
raaja vinaya) and similarly, written edicts of virtue and discipline
governed the way in which the other shield bearers engaged society. The basis
for those codes of conduct were simple: they were put in place to make sure
that every thought, word and deed of the societal shields served to protect and
succor the people and make their lives more content, more even, more stable,
more sober. Therefore, they were callings, often thrust upon people because of
proven ability and never considered to be livelihoods. Their practitioners were
the “aristo” or the best, as Pirsig notes. Their conduct increased,
every day, the trust and love that the people had for them. For that they were
revered.
Now, instead of kings we have leaders.
Instead of healers we have doctors. Instead of teachers we have educators and
instead of monks we have clergy. The difference between these is devastating.
Whereas the earlier crop had these vested upon them to protect society, the
present crop take these labels on simply to protect themselves. They set
themselves out to become leaders or doctors or teachers or clergy and quite
apart from being shields for society, they want society to protect them.
Through that very desire they prove that they are the worst. The filth. The
slime. The dregs of society. Defaulting to conduct that lacks both value and
morality. All the while, they also insist that their self-serving hollowness is
given the same status as that of the protectors of yore and that they too are similarly worshiped. Compounding
the insults they heap upon society, they also insist that everything reduces to
money and therefore they are merely cat’s paws of those who have it. They
damage. They destroy. They give us, day by day, increasingly more terrible
examples of human mediocrity and failure. Sucking almost all people into their
horrifying vortex of disaster, they wipe out whatever goodness remains in them.
Their conduct continuously increases the doubt, suspicion, anger and hatred
people have for them. For that they are reviled.
Taking the above comparative
example folks, as Asians, steeped in our dharmic tradition, cocooned in our
dharmic ethos, we do not need to be told what is good. We know. But that
knowledge has been subsumed, marginalized, ridiculed and finally eliminated
from societal ordering by a set of shield bearers that sit, not upon thrones of
honor but rather, upon their brains. Let us therefore resolve to redeem
ourselves and reclaim our knowledge. Our heritage. Our legacy. Let us, my
friends, resolve to blow away the clouds of ignorance and webs of deceit that
have trammeled our vision for decades and see our true worth. Our true quality.
Our true araté .
(this article appeared in the Daily Mirror in September 2017)
(this article appeared in the Daily Mirror in September 2017)