A while back I was surfing the web a little bit, mostly watching random YouTube videos, sorta procrastinating and all, but also sorta fishing for something new to write about. And I found it... I somehow came across a video essay where the guy was eloquently explaining his love for, of all things, sumo wrestling. I really don't know how I found that video because my knowledge or interest in sumo wrestling boils down to being aware of who E. Honda is in Street Fighter II: Turbo Revival. But I watched the entire video anyway and I did learn some really neat things about this unusual sport. However, what struck me most was the guy's passion for it, and I could sense a little bit of frustration in his voice, I could sense that his dog in this fight was loving this very specific sport that isn't really appreciated that much in the western world, in fact, it's considered very silly. And so the point of the video was a rational and objective, yet very passionate, defense of sumo wrestling, it was all about trying to prove there were good reasons to really love and admire this strange sport... And did he succeed? I wanna say yes, pragmatically speaking he did, it was a great video, but I'm also inclined to believe that every single one of the reasons he mentioned could also have been found on any other sport, any other game, any other hobby, literally any other thing in this world. And thus, any semblance of objectivity inevitably brings us back to the realm of subjectivity.
For secular humanists, trying to prove moral objectivity was the most important day of their lives. But for me... it was tuesday.
As for me, my passionate defense would have been The Sopranos. Not only am I convinced that it is the greatest TV show of all time, but I'm also convinced it's one of the greatest works of art mankind has ever produced. I know that may come across as a bit silly but I do mean it. I dunno why when thinking of the greatest works of art our thoughts are almost automatically steered towards ancient marble statues and weird paintings... Anyway, I'm constantly watching bits of the show, constantly bringing up anecdotes or lines of dialogue from it, even to the point of often going – this reminds me of an episode of The Sopranos where... So what I'm trying to say is that I'm absolutely convinced this TV show is objectively great, and I could bring up countless reasons for it, such as it being effortlessly hilarious, so damn complex with the psychological profiles of its characters, having its moments of bizarre depth that verge on the surreal, the stellar acting all around, the consistent great choices in music, the always interesting storylines, and so on. But the thing is, even if I'm so convinced of that, why can't I still convince other people of it so easily? Why is it that while I consider this TV show to be objectively good, most people around me don't decide to devote the time to watch it? Or why can't I convince them to change their minds if they believe some other TV show is the greatest? I'd say it's because all objectivity is always subjective.
In other words, there's no true objectivity, except perhaps in logical and mathematical truths. All else is rooted in human works and therefore it's subjective because human existence is contingent. Appealing to a common argument, the rules of chess are objective, or so they seem, but because the game of chess itself is a human invention, that means at the end of the day it all returns to subjectivity. The only way to find objectivity is to democratically agree on things being objective, we need a man on the inside to give us the key, sorta look the other way and then say he ain't seen nothin'... The same happens with everything else, such as the “objective” rules of what makes a sport, TV show or chess match any good. We can and in fact we do agree on it, we agree that, for example, we gain a deeper understanding of sumo wrestling after discovering that the rituals and details we find weird actually have deep roots in history, we stop seeing two chubby men pushing each other as a funny thing and instead we start to appreciate the technique and strategy in what's going on, not to mention the absolute power, and we begin to see them as real martial artists who worked hard their entire lives to be where they are now. That's all fine and true, but wouldn't the same apply to football, or basketball, or badminton, or fishing, or knitting, or Street Fighter, or literally anything else that human beings do? If I have to admire sumo wrestling due to those traits, then surely the sumo wrestling fan has to love and admire literally any other sport or thing wherein those same traits are found... So why doesn't he? I guess there's only so many hours in a day but it is more than that, isn't it? At the end of the day it's because deep down we know that, while the love we have is objective to us, it sure isn't to anyone else.
Maybe there really is no way to truly convince someone of the opposite, maybe there really is no way to prove to someone that the benefits we get from any given thing are objectively good, nor can we can convince someone that those benefits can't be found somewhere else, not in the same way at least. Can good storytelling, acting and comedy be found anywhere but my favorite TV show? Yes, of course, but anyone to whom I might try to evangelize The Sopranos will be missing out on what I believe to be superior storytelling, acting and comedy. Will they care though? No, not really. Just like I won't particularly care about being convinced otherwise. So while I can understand that maybe sumo wrestling does have a lot of heart to it, while I can concede that everything the guy from the video said in its defense is objectively true, I nonetheless don't necessarily have to concede that I should therefore love it or begin to watch it. I can just as easily get those same thrills somewhere else. It's quite like when fans of one sport mock some other sport for being about a group of men running after a ball, seemingly unaware that their own sport is bound to be likewise futile when seen in such simplistic terms. Or it's like the dad who doesn't see the point in his son playing football video games but somehow sees the point in watching a football match on TV...
So at the end of the day, like with all things, this is simply a matter of perspective. We deeply understand the complexity and nuance in all our hobbies and passions because we are in them, we participate in them, we understand them and all the rituals around them. Whereas when it comes to the hobbies and passions we don't have, we inevitably see them as either simple or bizarre, we don't get how anyone in their right mind would spend a single dime or second on them, we see them as useless and a total waste of time... But this all may seem intuitive and obvious, so why do I ramble on about it? Well, that would be because it has obvious implications for morality – if objectivity is found lacking in all human works, and if morality is a human work, then objectivity is found lacking in morality.
I know what you're gonna say, you might say that maybe being “found lacking” isn't all that bad, maybe for the most part we can still work something out... but what about when we can't? If a communication breakdown occurs, how can you convince the other person to follow what you deem to be the correct moral interpretation when you can't even convince them to watch a sport or a TV show? You might say I have it the other way around, maybe it is that convincing someone to watch a sport or a TV show is more difficult precisely because it is less important and therefore “less” objective. But does that then mean there's an objectivity to morality? No, morality remains a human work based on whatever we can gleam from the world around us, in whatever aspects we deem relevant at the time, but at the end of the day, whenever expedient, whenever there's a time save or an avoidance of effort, that so-called objectivity breaks down... If I can't convince my friends that my favorite TV show is the best, I likewise can't convince anyone else that my moral philosophy is the best either. It is all relegated to the realm of opinion and personal taste. The only reason morality seems to work is because, generally speaking, people living in the same place already agree on largely the same rules. But on an individual level, on a personal level, morality is as random as taste.
Am I then saying that convincing someone not to kill or steal is essentially the same as convincing them to watch a TV show? Well, yes. I guess I kinda am.
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