For a class on the good life I’m teaching this semester, I’m asking students to experiment with the concepts we’re exploring. In some cases, this will involve trying on the virtues and ways of life discussed in our readings. Groups may try out the advice in the Handbook of Epictetus or strive to have virtues on Aristotle’s list, or experiment with Nietzsche’s exhortations about the best life. Since I’ve tried to create an eclectic and inclusive syllabus, some of these experiments will involve adopting virtues valorized in another culture. For example, we’ll be talking about the Lakota virtue of “quietness,” which is explored by the Native American author Joseph Marshall III. And we’ll be talking about Confucian ritual and filial piety. This kind of assignment is becoming increasingly common in classes about the good life, the meaning of life, or philosophy as a way of life (for example, see here).
A few years ago, a student of mine did this sort of project with success. He was on the soccer team and tried to follow Stoic advice at practices and games. Judging from the presentation he gave to the class, he gained a better understanding of Epictetus from the experience as well as a better week on his team. The assignment seemed all around constructive and engaging. However, a misgiving occurs to me now, especially because I’ve added more non-Western material to my syllabus. “Live like a Stoic” sounds fine, but what about “Live like a Lakota”?
The worry is that these kinds of experiments have at least a faint aroma of cultural appropriation. I’m enough of a cosmopolitan (in Kwame Anthony Appiah’s sense) to think this may not actually be so bad, but there are certainly bad cases of cultural appropriation. If it’s wrong to put on Native American garb at a Halloween party, is it ok to try out a Native American virtue for a philosophy class?
In fact, I would defend these kinds of experiments, whether they involve Stoic advice or Lakota virtues. It’s not everything, but it’s significant that there’s a difference between intentions. The person putting on an Indian headdress at a costume party is mocking Native Americans — looking for a laugh. Philosophy professors are seriously and respectfully encouraging exploration of virtues that are outside the Western canon. It can’t honor non-Western cultures more to ignore them. And the “trying out” assignment is an effective way to encourage students to explore ideas more deeply.
It’s possible to do these kinds of experiments with humility, and without the problematic assumption that another culture’s treasures can be instantly appropriated. A student cannot really live likea Stoic for a week, but can only make a very small start to adopting Stoic ways of thinking. All the more so, a student can’t really adopt Native American quietness for a week. For one, the sense that the virtue is optional is unavoidable, for the experimenting student — especially for someone who will take on Stoic virtues one week, Native American virtues the next week, and so on (my students will actually be doing just one experiment per group). By contrast, for someone who has deeply internalized the virtue, it’s not optional at all.
There’s also the barrier of one’s surrounding culture. Americans who are quiet may just be ignored by their peers, whereas Lakota quietness elicits admiration and respect in other members of a Lakota community (according to Marshall). Furthermore, to really have the virtue of quietness, you must know when to apply it, and when to speak up. This is knowledge a student can’t acquire quickly, from a distance. Likewise, students can’t quickly assimilate culturally specific and rich notions like Confucian ritual. Any rituals students adopt will probably be a far cry from what Confucian thinkers had in mind, and again, the sense of necessity will inevitably be missing.
With all that in mind, the humble student will know they’re not stepping into the shoes of a Lakota or Confucian or Stoic — something we should recognize as an impossible task. It’s a complicated business being so steeped in an ethical outlook that you feel that there are certain things you must do or may not do, or that your life will be good if you do this, bad if you do that. But then, what are students doing when they try on quietness, or Stoic imperturbability, or Confucian piety?
A more inclusive syllabus about the good life gives a student more ideas to wrestle with, and personal experiments create greater engagement with these ideas. We can’t really have culturally distant virtues by trying them out for a week, but we can reflect more deeply on them, and maybe even take a few steps toward authentically taking on a variant or facsimile. We might even be inspired to think about how our society would have to be different, for particular virtues to have a home. By doing “try it out” experiments we can enlarge our own “how to live” palettes and maybe even enrich our lives.
Jean Kazez
Jean Kazez teaches philosophyat Southern Methodist University. She is the author of The Weight of Things: Philosophy and the Good Lifeas well as books on animal ethicsand parenthood. She is a columnist and reviews editor for The Philosophers’ Magazine.
I wonder why you think that the “person putting on an Indian headdress at a costume party is mocking Native Americans — looking for a laugh.” Do you also think the person dressing up as James Bond is mocking James Bond, or the person dressing up as an astronaut is mocking astronauts, or the person dressing up as Obama is mocking Obama? Or the person trying to recreate Newton’s experiments is mocking Newton? Or the person buying David Beckham branded underwear is mocking David Beckham? Or the person styling their hair like Rachel is mocking Jennifer Anniston? Or the person singing Imagine is mocking John Lennon?
Imitation was once the sincerest form of flattery—when did it become the sincerest form of mockery?