I hear you but I’m not seeking to escape anything, I’m just not reflective and I rarely worry about whether what I do is good or right.
I’ve managed pretty well in relationships throughout my life. I just never reflect on them. What might count as an “operative assumption”? Are there underlying assumptions built into how I construct value and act? Probably. Do I care what they are and do I have access to them? I see no value in this.
An operative assumption would be something like: “other people’s needs matter and aren’t just obstacles to what I want.” I’m guessing you live by something like that — people who don’t usually can’t maintain relationships — but you didn’t arrive at that from nowhere. Somewhere along the way you learned it, internalized it, and it now shapes how you act without you needing to consciously think about it.
With regard to your claim that you never worry about whether what you do is good or right — is that really true? If a close friend said something you did hurt them, I suspect you wouldn’t just shrug. If you’re like most people, you’d care — and that caring would involve exactly the kind of evaluative reflection I’m pointing at, even if its fast and intuitive rather than slow and philosophical.
I tweaked my previous answer.
Whether I might modify behaviour to enhance interactions with people, sure I might, or I might tell them how they reacted is on them.
Right, so how do you decide? Do you consult a random number generator, or flip a coin? Presumably you make an evaluative judgment about what matters, who bears responsibility, what the situation actually calls for.
You say that you don’t reflect on these things and see no value in doing so. But if that’s true then I’d say you’re not navigating relationships well — you’re not really navigating them at all. At best, you’re getting lucky when your impulses happen to land right. At worst, the people around you are bearing the cost when they don’t.
And if you’re suggesting that unreflectively reacting to a hurt friend is morally equivalent to actually caring — well, that’s not the absence of a theory about love and relationships. It’s quite a specific theory, and not a particularly admirable one. Its the kind of thing reflection exists to catch.
I understood @Tom_Storm ‘s response to be that what counts is what one does.
Did you two have a look at the reading, Will to Believe? Section III is relevant here.
No one here is denying that actions count. If that’s all he were saying then there’d be no disagreement from me. But looking at what he’s actually written, I think it’s clear he’s saying something a great deal stronger than that.
I haven’t gotten to the James piece. I’ll take a look.
baby don’t hurt me /j
I see love as a link between two being. Or two thing. Which can be strong or weak.
Also, love is something maybe too good. Affection would be more correct in this world.
Good to note that love is require, I think, in hetero relation. This is my theory of the present time.
Finally, love or affection is main. I’m sure of this.
What can I say, maybe I have been lucky. As I have already stated, I do not reflect on the subjects mentioned. I just act. Not the same thing as saying I have no values and conditioned responses like anyone. But I don’t spend any time reflecting on who I am or what love is or what is right. I tend to know what I’m going to do. Perhaps it’s intuitive. Do I make mistakes? Probably. But my foibles are kind of boring and perhaps this belongs in a different thread on self-reflection.
OK. This isn’t really an argument so much as a personal admission. You’re basically just noting that approaching life in an unreflective manner has worked out OK for you. That’s great, but it leaves the question — as raised in your original reply — of whether this is the best way to go about things completely unaddressed. But that’s fine. I think we’ve probably taken this as far as it can go. Thanks.
Actually, this is what I was getting at. Any attempt to define a term must first examine how the term is used. In the case of “love,” I agree that we’re not likely to discover a usage or usages that lead unequivocally to a definition. But the interesting question remains, Why is that the case for some troublesome terms, but not others?
Romantic love is defined not by dictionaries, but by stories and poems. For the English-speaking, early definitions come from the Arthurian romances: Yvain, Tristan, Purzival and Lancelot. The tales of Tristan and Lancelot are similar – both fall in love with forbidden fruit. In both stories erotic love is a kind of madness: Tristan and Isolde drink a love potion. Lancelot, the perfect Knight, thinks his love for the queen is noble and disinterested because it can never be consumated. He flies too close to the sun and falls; his “perfect love” is too intense for him.
Such perfect love is a dream, never fulfilled. As Sappho wrote,
The moon has set
And the Pliedes. It is
Midnight. Time passes.
I sleep alone.
It’s a point made pretty successfully by Austin. When someone proffers a definition for a term, we can either just accept the proffered definition, in which case it is mere stipulation, an appeal to authority; or we can ask if the definition is itself valid… in which case we must posit some criteria for assessing the definition that is itself independent of that definition. The usual answer is that we should look around at how the term is used, and then see if that usage matches the proffered definition…
But if that’s the case, then why not just skip to the chase and say that the definition is found in the use to which the word is put?
Wittgenstein made a similar point: that rather than make up definitions, we should instead look to the way the word is used; that in most cases the meaning of a word is its use in a language game.
It remains that for some words and situations, a stipulation will do the job. But stipulation cannot be fundamental, since giving a stipulation already presupposes a language in which to stipulate.
There is a way of understanding meaning that is not found in giving more meanings, but is lived in how we make use of our words.
There are three distinct representations of the word love in the English language. Love can be used as the subject, the predicate, and the object.
The important question is not about the lover or the act of love. I believe the eternal question is what do we love and why?
Plato’s answer is that love is the desire for the beautiful and good. Why do we desire the beautiful and good? Because we desire happiness. Why do we desire happiness? “The answer is already final”.
Are we to suppose there is any one answer to such a question?
Especially from Plato.
Saw a joke the other day: Boy says to girl “We’ve had a Platonic relationship for a while now, I was kinda hopping we might move on… ”
“On to what?” She asks
“Maybe a Socratic relationship…?”
“Why?” she replies
“That’s it!” he cries.
That’s a funny joke, Banno.
Plato gave us an answer to the question: What do we love and why? If there are more than one answer to this question, then what is it?
The view of love in Plato’s Phaedrus recognizes there is a part of our soul that would “leap upon the beloved.” One cause for reflection involves remembering when that has happened. Our regrets are woven into owning the past.
The question if we are monsters at 230 only makes sense if we have spotted the creature in our life.
I’m not sure what the take home message is but I appreciate the words. I’ve rarely had regrets.
It’s certainly a more interesting question than some of the others.
I’m not sure I would privilege Plato on this subject. The beautiful and the good seems pretty imprecise and I tend to consider such matters outside of any theory of forms, more like immensely variable contingencies.