Assigning blame (philosophical explorations)--LONG

[lupinesque]

Cindy responded more clearly and a heck of a lot more concisely to 
one bit I was trying to sort out.  Also, to do this properly we'd 
really have to distinguish between one-on-one conflicts (who is more 
to blame for the conflict between A and B--A or B?) and third-party 
conflicts (who is more to blame for hurting C--A or B?).  However, 
with this and myself undistinguished, I dive in.

Luke promised:

>Here's where I get unwaveringly idealistic. 

Oh goody!

I wrote:  
> But the question of who is *more* at fault is still valid, and IMO, 
> potentially important in resolving our conflict.

I knew I needed to explain what I meant.  Unerringly, Luke questioned:

>Why is it potentially important in resolving the conflict? 

<snip>

>You see, I often wonder if the reason we have this notion of 
>comparative morality, or specifically in this case comparative 
>blame, is primarily out of an effort to rationalize our own actions. 

Often, yes.  Well warned.

>We want to acknowledge that one person is more at fault so that we 
>can say that what we did is "not as bad", because what they did 
>was "worse". (There is an opposite situation here that Amy, if I 
>know her, is probably just dying to point out. Don't worry, I will 
>come to this later.)

LOL!  Yes, apparently you do know me!But my thinking was not so much 
about whether one is going to try to forgive someone else or oneself, 
nor about reconciliation at all.  As a practical matter one will 
probably not want to focus on who is more to blame, in most 
conflicts.  And if one is concerned about forgiveness first and 
foremost, then this matters not at all.  But if one is concerned with 
discerning the truth, and I will even venture to say, with justice, 
one may have to make these distinctions.

For example, in the case that started us off on this topic--Fudge, 
Snape, and McGonagall with the Dementor—-a man has been worse than 
murdered.  I am as far from a law-and-order type as you're likely to 
find, but I think determining whose fault this is matters.  The 
Dementor is more to blame than Fudge, McGonagall or Snape (I am 
assuming that Fudge didn't actually order it to Kiss Crouch but that 
it acted on its own).  The fact that four, uh, "people" were all in 
some measure to blame, in that there was *something they could have 
done* to prevent it, does not make them all equally to blame. 

Blaming the Dementor more than Fudge doesn't make what Fudge did 
okay.  Blaming Fudge more than Snape or McGonagall doesn't make what 
Snape and McGonagall did okay.  Each person's actions must be judged 
on their own merits; the "pie" of blame may add up to 100% of 150% or 
0% (we all know those frustrating situations where there really is no 
one to blame; we cast around angrily for the cause of our suffering 
and find no one behind it; of course, one can always blame God, and 
people frequently do).  But as a simple point of fact, once we have 
done this judging, we come up with different amounts of blame.  

The kind of thing I was thinking that made me say you might need to 
sort out who is most to blame in order to move toward resolution is 
this.  A couple comes to a counselor due to a long history of marital 
difficulties.  Each has done lots that is hurtful to the other over 
the years, as couples do, but one of them (I'll stay away from gender 
and call this one Chris) has taken to hitting the other (Terry).  
That's what made them both realize that they were in very deep 
trouble.  Now, if they want to reconcile, each will have to accept 
some blame for what he/she has done to the other and forgive 
him/herself and the other.  But it would be the height of injustice 
and, IMO, cruelty, to suggest that the blame is 50-50.  They are both 
going to have to acknowledge that Chris has done a terrible thing in 
order for them to move forward.

Again, the point is not necessarily to establish a comparison.  But 
an outside observer would say, yes, Chris did something worse than 
what Terry did.  Even if no one chooses to dwell on that fact, it is 
a fact.  Perhaps that's as far as we need to go with Snape, 
McGonagall, etc.—-people are mulling over their comparative level of 
blame as a way to explore what kinds of actions are most blameworthy, 
not in an actual attempt to divide up the pie.

But is it ever important to establish a comparison—-to say in a 
conflict between two people, one is more to blame than the other?  I 
think at times it is.  It's that idea that "The actions on both sides 
are not relative to each other at all. They can only be explored 
individually" that is hanging me up.  I am so close to agreeing, and 
yet . . . and yet . . . how does one explore someone's actions 
individually?  When two people, like our Chris and Terry, are in a 
relationship and are trying to continue to be in relationship, it's 
impossible to explore one's actions without exploring the other's.  
I'm very fuzzy on this part, so I'll move on to something else, but 
I'm feeling the shape of something important here.  Maybe this is the 
difference between two kinds of ethics, one more individual, the 
other more relational.

But setting that aside.  We agree that forgiveness is the goal; 
unconditional love is the goal.  Absolutely.  But how do we get 
there?  I guess I am thinking psychologically rather than 
philosophically.  When dealing with real people, how is one to get 
from a hurtful conflict to a state of mutual trust?  Terry may be 
able to forgive Chris anything, if Terry is a saint.  But for them to 
move forward into a trusting relationship, Chris is going to have to 
say "I did a terrible thing."  He/she is going to have to take the 
blame.  Truth and Reconciliation, right?  Truth is necessary for 
reconciliation.  One party to the conflict may never admit the truth, 
but if so, the other party still has to, or else live forever with a 
warped and warping idea, e.g. "it was my fault that Chris hit me" 
(which is, after all, what abusers often say).  

Luke has a caveat about either one taking more of the blame:  

>It lends to a worldview where only the people who are, by our system 
>of comparative blame, more at fault are responsible for initiating 
>reconciliation.  It then gives us an out in all those circumstances 
>where we do not wish to forgive.

Very wise; it is all too true that we do this and abuse it.  Even 
when there is a clear line between victim and perpetrator, the victim 
may, as a practical matter, have to be the one to suggest 
reconciliation (this is often the case, in fact).  But the 
perpetrator carries the heavier burden, and I don't see any way 
around this other than to say that because everyone is guilty of some 
sin, we are all equally to blame.

Isn't the remedy to this worldview to apply the principle you 
suggested before:  to look at each person's actions individually?  
Thus, I am partially to blame for the racism of our society because I 
have remained silent, have accepted many of the privileges I am 
handed as a white woman, etc., but I am not *as much to blame* as the 
Grand Dragon of the KKK.  And the solution, the way for me to keep 
from just sitting back and waiting for the Grand Dragon to repent 
before I do, is for me to look at my sins individually and initiate 
the necessary changes in myself.  My point is simply that *we don't 
need to pretend that I am as guilty as the Grand Dragon in order for 
me to take responsibility for the blame I do carry.*

Well, I say simply.  This whole thing is much more complex than I can 
do justice to and still get a modicum of other work done today.  
However, I love these questions and will happily keep on hashing them 
out.  Would that I were back in college and could decide to major in 
philosophy after all . . . 

Amy