Seeker

I wonder though whether induction from instrospection isn't really the whole point here. The argument would be (indeed, would have to be) that inducing certain emotional responses interferes with man's mind such that forcing those responses is a denial of right to life. As to whether that is in fact true, there are two ways to examine it. First, you can look to how others react when presented with certain sights and sounds that induce severe emotional reactions, and see how it affects their behavior - and since we humans have language, you can also ask them to explain it. Second, you can experience such reactions yourself and see whether they interfere with your ability to live (freedom of action) or not. I take the examples to be trying to invoke such introspective observations. The point is not to reach agreement about what specific examples themselves have in common but rather the psychological effects that they evoke. The examples aren't the point, the reactions to them are, and those reactions are real even if the examples given are not. So with all that said - can emotions interfere with man's mind? As to the matter of force - the premise must be that the very nature of public spaces implies the equivalent of physical force inasmuch as you can't avoid being there. The regulation comes about in response to that physical fact - since the equivalent of physical force is assumed, the law seeks to regulate what it may and may not do. Both of these strike me as fertile grounds for argument.

A more fruitful basis for inquiry might be (and I am still mulling this over) to focus not on purported rights violations right away, but instead on what man's needs qua man are. To take one example, we know that man requires food and water to survive; we know that without it, he will die. We can conclude that, in principle, forcibly denying him food and water violates his right to his life. So, as it pertains to man's mind, what does man require? ONce we know that we can say that, in principle, whatever forcibly denies him that violates his right to life. Then we can get into a good discussion about what man's actual requirements are versus arbitrary whims. We might say, for instance (if, of course, the evidence leads us there), that since man requires control of his sex life, uncontrolled exposure to public nudity is a denial of that requirement and a violation of his right. Then you can list all the bizarre unrealistic examples you wish that deny him his right in every colorful manner; it won't matter because we won't be relying on them to say what the principles are.

I didn't say it must. The manner is inductive, not deductive. Laws are passed, in general, in response to the problems they purport to address. Knowing that laws a,b,c were passed to address particular concerns suggests that d was, too. A law against public nudity supports the conclusion that such is not an arbitrary example, in my view. You are free to disagree with that particular support. I didn't say it was the only type of evidence allowed, did I? Let me ask you this. How do you know what goes on in the real world? It's not just figments of your imagination, is it? What's wrong with demanding that the concretes used to abstract real-world principles be similarly based in reality?

It is entirely appropriate to exclude arbitrary examples as a basis for making generalizations about the real world. I acknowledge that it makes your task harder; so be it. The question I have is, what reason do you have for thinking that a particular example is possible (not arbitrary)? In the case of public nudity, the answer is obvious: because there are particular laws against it, we can reasonably infer that it actually happened at some point. So, where is the law against sending embalmed heads to someone? There isn't one (is there?), and no evidence that I know of that such actually occurred; the example is arbitrary. Ditto beheading videos on the living room wall, masturbating men in Red Flyer wagons, and Nazi hedonists screwing on the lawn of the house next door (what kind of a neighborhood is this? Sheesh!). I am asking that the examples we use be reasonable, i.e. based in reality, if we are to draw real-world conclusions from them. I don't think that's asking too much.

Can we have some better examples then please? For one thing, why on Earth did you let your daughter open a package from someone who hates your family? And although I admit to being entertained by the notion of people projecting beheading videos into their neighbors' living rooms, men masturbating in glass display cases being pulled around town in toy wagons, the couple across the street having sex on their front lawn beneath a swastika while reading Nietzsche, and now the enemy of the family MrX with his embalmed grandmother's head scaring the bejesus out of little Suzie - a cartoonist could have a field day - this does not strike me as the correct way to abstract serious principles on which to justify legislation. I understand that you are trying to find an example on which all can agree, but for my part I'm not going to consider any examples that aren't drawn from reality. So unless someone has actually had the misfortune of dealing with MrX in the manner described, I'd like to see some other, realistic examples before going any further. Can we all agree to this as a ground rule?

Yet this is where the overall context could make the difference. It is my understanding that the article was mainly speaking against censorship of pornography. Supposing that earlier in the article Rand spoke of the freedom to see and hear sexually explicit material, adding later on that the "a corollary of the freedom to see and hear, is the freedom not to look or listen". It would be clear, in context, that the freedom to see and hear meant the right to consume pornographic material, and the corollary meant the right not to, whereas dropping the context would make it appear as though a general right was being referred to when in fact it wasn't. Hence my emphasis on the importance of knowing the entire context. Again I think it's important to consider that Rand was only addressing the subject of pornographic materials. Had she chosen to address a wider topic, she might have phrased it differently. A wider context would imply a wider meaning of the principle, but that's exactly the mistake of context-dropping that I am trying to avoid. I simply mean that if Rand's argument applies only to sex, then it won't help building an argument in other areas. Others are free to make such arguments, but not to claim that this part of Objectivism supports their position.

It depends on whether Rand was actually announcing such a principle or not though, which is why we have to remain aware of the specific context of her remarks. If the only subject under discussion was sex (as appears to be the case), then it's fair to interpret the freedom not to look or listen as a type of sexual freedom applying particularly to sex. No general principle was thereby announced, so no arbitrary limitation on said principle exists. I have two additional observations. The first is that it is extremely hazardous to try to interpret a passage lifted out of the context of the entire essay. I haven't had the opportunity to read the whole essay. Those who have seem to agree that the principle applies to sex only. Without the context of seeing the whole essay it might be possible to misinterpret the passage. Second, this particular philosophic principle seems to have been treated lightly in the annals of Rand scholarship. At least, no one seems to have pointed to any authoritative interpretive works by the likes of Rand herself, Peikoff, or others that would be useful in determining what she meant. At the same time, the implications of some interpretations are tremendously troubling in scope and effect. The lack of adequate scholarly points of reference suggests we tread cautiously in adopting those interpretations. You are correct that others could try to pursue similar lines of reasoning to justify unwarranted government intrusions. But the whole point of this inquiry is to see whether Rand's argument actually lends aid to such attempts, or does not. A sex-only interpretation of the freedom lends no aid whatsoever. The burden is wholly on others to show evidence of man's nature justifying the freedom outside the realm of sex.

Would this help?

This is a very cogent and persuasive point. The phrases "only one aspect of sex is a legitimate field for legislation ..." and "this aspect includes ..." limit the application of all that follows despite the general language employed. Hence, "the need to protect people from being confronted with sights they regard as loathsome" must be regarded as an "aspect of sex" and "a corollary of the freedom to see and hear, is the freedom not to look or listen" must also be interpreted exclusively within that context. This overcomes what was for me the main interpretive difficulty, namely that the word "loathsome" is thoroughly asexual in itself and seemed to implicate general principles outside the realm of sex. But the more limited interpretation obviates this concern.

Sure, unless they also do something about the bastardized leftist New Deal commerce clause jurisprudence that says that the power to regulate interstate commerce includes the power to regulate whatever "affects" interstate commerce (and I guess, whatever affects whatever affects interstate commerce, etc.). Would originalism do something to cure that constitutional monstrosity? In principle it probably should, although I haven't studied the issue.

Well naturally, "states rights" is misnomer and oxymoron, since it's really referring to federalism, and since states don't have rights. With that cleared up, we can ask what is the justification for federalism? On this I agree that it's main feature in support of individual rights is that it allows people to leave one state and go to another that better secures individual rights. It's not a primary, however, any more than separation-of-powers is a primary or democracy is a primary. These are means to the end of securing individual rights suitable for systems of government in which men are not perfect and must have their capacity to oppress limited in various ways. On that score, federalism is one important tool in the toolbox and we ought to support it.

The press isn't interested in the context of the remark because it's not necessary to making the story fit their predetermined stereotype. In fact, it gets in the way. You didn't think they would let a little thing like facts stand in the way of a good story, do you? Let's run down the essential plot progression: *Once upon a time there were some amazingly virtuous young black women basketball players making it in an unfair world *And then one day they played in a championship game *And just when everything was going so well, a mean racist white male viciously attacked them, destroying the greatest moment of their lives *When just at the last minute, justice was served; the American people arose and sent the evil white male villain to oblivion! *Evil was defeated, political correctness was vindicated, the media cleansed itself and they all lived happily ever after So, yeah, that bit about context doesn't really fit in the story. It's not essential to the plot, and definitely deserved to get cut.

I grant the danger. Despite the arguments advanced so far, I do not see a principled basis for distinguishing the sorts of things that require consent from those that do not (so far they seem to boil down to self-evidencies, "I know it when I see it", etc.). So I think that, in theory, it leads to restrictions on whatever the "society" happens to find loathsome. The basis of the right to not look and listen seems muddled - it is like the right to not think - how can man live without perceiving? I simply have concluded (as I believe you said in your post) that it is the best interpretation of what Ayn Rand meant in the essay; the alternative constructions offered simply do not comport with Rand's actual words.

I think that Rand wasn't just referring to publicly-owned streets but to "the public", as in, those of us who go 'round to shops and need warning signs of what's inside, and that legislation may properly address such aspects even in a society where all property is privately owned. In other words, it is the fact of social interaction that generates the need for legislation, not the public "ownership" of the spaces in which such interaction takes place.

I agree that that is the correct interpretation. A society, if it wishes, may permit you to travel the streets without wearing a burka; but it need not do so. Loathsome sights and sounds may be removed from public to preserve the individual right to not look and listen; but on your own private property, you are free - which certainly makes obvious the importance of private property to one's freedom!

Give me an example where I said that the "bromide" does not apply. My point is that in this specific case, as with all instances of humor, there are many complexities present to consider that go well beyond your analysis. For instance, taking into account the entirety of the context - including the elements of personality, emotion, timing, emphasis, voice intonation, laughter, rapport with co-hosts, and so on - was Imus really "targeting" the good for destruction, as you suggest? Or was this, as I hold, an example of a simple throwaway remark that in its context was intended simply to amuse? My attempt here is to accurately characterize, not thoroughly dissect the remark (which frankly I didn't find funny). An honest attempt to consider the question will admit these complexities and not rely on gross oversimplification.

Well this is where it can get a bit dicey, because the targets of humor are often multifaceted and possess a mixture of qualities. Furthermore, there are at least as many types of humor as there are proper targets of humor, and its psychological function extends as well to the relief of tension and the momentary victory over repression (saying what otherwise couldn't be said), and is in fact something that appears even today to be the subject of much debate. Which is to say, there is much, much more to understanding humor and its role in man's life than can be conveyed by a single bromide. In any event, I take the "nappy-headed hos" comment to be of a particular variety of silly throwaway comment meant simply to amuse; it was not intended to be significant at all (and definitely not to this absurd degree).

A quick rewrite will reveal: "Imus meant to be funny, but the young women misunderstood him as being insulting". We might reasonably wonder whether their response should have been to apologize to Imus for misunderstanding what he said, but at least we can say that the most he needed to offer was a clarification, whereupon there would have been a few backslaps, whoops and maybe even some turnabout (as though Imus himself doesn't have his own share of hair problems!). After all, we're all happy adults with healthy senses of humor about ourselves and about life, right? We're not twisted subhuman creatures who look askance at comedy as some impenetrable alien phenomenon, right? We all can take a joke, can't we? We don't put our self-esteem and happiness in the hands of others, do we? [in my opinion, a very real psychological problem reflected in our culture is the inability to take a joke. When you can't take a joke, your only recourse is to burn down the other fellow's house. This doesn't mean setting aside what's really serious, but having a proper sense of humor in dealing with things is essential. Whatever else may characterize the overreaction to Imus' three words, the lack of humor should really concern us - seriously.] Everything in life is fodder to the humorist as well as the philosopher. Those young women became fodder for jokes - for all of us, not just Imus - by simple virtue of coming to our attention. We all have our soapboxes. The only difference with Imus is that more people happened to have paid attention to his.

It might help more if you could clarify what you think the basis of the individuals' grievances is. I have tried not to speculate about that because many of the reasons I can think of would actually reflect very badly on them. So I have stuck to the actual remarks by Imus and noted his feeling to be one of playful amusement and that his remarks were not intended maliciously, and as such, no basis for hurt feelings actually exists.

Were those disanalogies intended as a comedy routine? On Internet forums I try to stick to the general rule that since emotion cannot be conveyed, sarcasm is to be avoided. To your point - I suppose that everyone who has willfully misconstrued Imus' remarks should offer an apology to him for their carelessness and the damage they have done - although it would be hard to characterize much of their reactions as an honest mistake.

Because as I said (with emphasis added): So that when we examine his actual remarks and see that, in context, they were not intended maliciously, we understand that it follows that there is no just basis for feeling hurt - and a rational person would not feel hurt and feel no need of an apology. Similarly, a rational person would understand that no hurt was intended or conveyed, and feel no need to apologize. Or perhaps he simply doesn't understand the principles involved (as indeed I expect most people don't -- most people have been guilt-ridden to the point of providing unjustified apologies in a whole range of circumstances).

That is the contradiction though: that Imus did not intend to hurt them, while at the same time he did intend to hurt them. The Law of Identity won't allow it to be both! Now you might say "his intentions don't matter, what matters is that their feelings were hurt". But this is another contradiction: that even with the knowledge of his benign intentions, their feelings could justly be hurt.

Or to put it another way, is there anyone who could think that he didn't actually mean it and was just making a joke? You see, this is the essence of humor. Like a frog, it dies when you dissect it. The key thing to consider is Imus' emotional state. Was it positive or negative? Joyful or hateful? Light-hearted or heavy-hearted? Playful or angry? To evaluate his remarks intelligently demands a sensitivity to feeling: not just the words he used, but the complexities of personality, emotion, timing, emphasis, voice intonation, laughter, rapport with co-hosts, and so on that set the total context of what he said. In that context I found his feeling to be one of playful amusement, and that makes all the difference. Was he ripping on them? Of course. Was he super-serious? As in, "those damned nappy-headed ho's, I really hate their guts!"? In my opinion, he was not - and a serious evaluation of the issue demands that we keep that distinction in mind.

You're missing my point - racism implies animus for another race. It's easy to take words out of their full context, but and bear in mind that he has expressly said that his purpose was comical. To me, it sounds like a stupid, lighthearted, throwaway comment, not one arising out of serious hatred and racial animus.

Alright I've chewed and decided that the distinction is irrelevant. The idea that we can't make fun of people is preposterous. Now as Trey Parker will tell you, if you want to make fun of someone you have to make fun of everyone - which I take to mean, you can't discriminate. So we can reasonably ask whether Imus discriminates in choosing only certain people or members of groups as his targets, but not on whether the targets are actual people per se. Note that I certainly wouldn't say it was nice of him, only that I yet to be convinced that they were necessarily improper in this specific context. Edit - by the way, for sake of contrast, I would not in any way defend Michael Richards' racial outburst. The difference is that by his own admission, his intention was malicious. That intention is essential in judging a case of this type. Motives matter.