One morning in midsummer 2001, an interviewer on RTE Radio One’s “Morning Ireland” was conducting a typical interview, but, for a moment, the whole business rose to a higher plane, when, in somewhat accusatory tones, the interviewer asked: “Are you making a value judgement?”
The interviewee rushed to give an assurance that no value judgement was being made. Less than two months later, after the events of 11th September, value judgements were being made on all sides and by every commentator, without any hesitation whatsoever.
The RTE interviewer was being honest in voicing the “ethical deficit” in which our society finds itself with regard to daily life. If all beliefs are equal, if all values are the same, then we have no business about, and no basis for, making an ethical judgement about anybody or anything. Pop psychology has already led us into the culture of blame, whereby somebody else is always responsible for our actions, not ourselves. It is so long since we read of a prosecution for perjury that the concept of there being anything wrong with lying under oath has almost evaporated, to the extent that somebody whose perjury nearly resulted in a life sentence for an innocent person could be excused, in yet another radio discussion programme, as “a victim”.
If we are all victims, then we are not responsible for anything. Something of the same attitude applies to religious belief. “I’m not religious, but I’m very interested in spirituality” is a phrase often read in interviews. It usually refers to a mix and blend approach to religion, particularly Christianity, with all the difficult parts discarded to make a reassuring form of spiritual narcotic. Such attitudes flourish because we assume, mistakenly, that traditional beliefs may be discarded, but that the ethics which come from them will survive.
Four of the contributors to this issue of Studies look at modern dilemmas, including values, medical ethics, the problems of prosperity and global injustice.
Our deficiencies in these areas are only too evident, from the daily use of foul language to our astonishing indifference when confronted with the regular reports of murder in our more peripheral suburbs and with hearsay accounts of violent unprovoked nocturnal attacks on strangers, which are largely unreported in the media, but which are mentioned frequently in conversation and which occur almost everywhere.
Our loss of values and our loss of an ethical system are leading us towards a collective blindness. If murder occurred with equal regularly in our prosperous suburbs, there would be questions in the Dail, and the views of MEPs would be known at once. The lack of such questions is proof of our unequal society, in which some areas as well as some people are clearly more important than others. Violent, unprovoked attacks are proof an ethical abyss so vast that we dare not contemplate it.
The Celtic Tiger’s roar has been reduced to a snore, but the blindness of affluence leaves its traces. Irish men and women were once found as missionaries all over the world. More recently, vast numbers of Irish people have gone to work for voluntary organisations in the developing world, but today we find charitable organisations at home in Ireland looking for volunteers. It is easy to sign a cheque, but the giving of one’s time, a sure sign of a developed sense of social responsibility and commitment, is so difficult that it affects recruitment to all groups, from church training colleges to political parties.
The doctor has replaced the priest or clergyperson as the figure of authority for many. The decades in which highly qualified doctors placed their trust in eugenics, with appalling results (most notably in Nazi-dominated Europe) are a sign that no group is infallible. The theories of Charles Darwin are now so revered as to be for many a form of religion, but social darwinism, with its emphasis on conflict as the means for species survival, was fundamental in the practice and barbarities of both fascism and communism.
We are in the rather bewildering position of trying to live according to an ethical system, but of not being sure what our values should be, so, once again, we look to the schools to provide us with the answers. This means that we are placing a burden which is far too heavy on those who are not trained to provide what the home cannot give. The churches do offer us an ethical system, but they are so “uncool” in sexual matters that they have to shout very loudly to be heard on social questions.
The churches speak, but are their words going to have a profound impact in an era when populism rather than principles seems increasingly to dominate our political life, with the quiet and rather sinister victory of spin leading to the preference for a good photo opportunity rather than a sound declaration of values? We may be saved by the poets, including those in holy orders and in political parties, who, whether they are able to versify or not, reaffirm the traditional values in new language, call us to an idealism which is beyond the assurance of comfort and are always open to new questions. Our present may be improved and our future may be blessed by the work and words of daring conformists.
Fergus O’Donoghue, S.J.
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