Reflections: Les Miserables

After serving his time in prison for stealing bread, Jean Valjean steps out in anticipation of freedom and a new life, but what he is met with is repugnance, hatred and prejudice in 19th century France. Thanks to Providence, with a touch of kindness and a determined steely will he rises up in life, but only to be hounded by the beast of justice that steadfastly remains blinded to the purity of his conscience. Amid haranguing circumstances, Jean Valjean continues to orient the purpose of his life to serving those in need, and in remaining immaculately clean in spirit. He leads his entire life being morally and spiritually pure. Les Miserables is a moving, immortal classic that explores deep social and philosophical questions on our existence.

Although I’ve read only two books of Victor Hugo’s so far, he is one author whose prose is so emotionally intense and powerful, it affects me deeply. There is so much wisdom, insight, truth, beauty, and simplicity to his writing. His use of metaphors is astounding. Every sentence is loaded with them in unimaginably articulate ways. As if to prove the point, I randomly opened a page from this 600-paged book, glanced at a paragraph and reread this:
“It is society buying a slave. From whom? From misery. From hunger, from privation. Melancholy barter. A soul for a bit of bread. Misery makes the offer, society accepts.”

In a nutshell, it describes one of the themes of the book. Society drives misery to breed and mutate with man-made rules that are often divorced from humanity or compassion. How does one escape the vicious cycle of poverty and misery if there is no way to break out of it? How is morality serving its purpose if it only results in the oppression of the already downtrodden and abused section?

The themes intersect with my most favorite and insistent thoughts on morality. Hugo brilliantly addresses the philosophy of morality (and justice) through the moral dilemmas that Jean Valjean struggles to resolve. Almost always, the question of what is good is murky. There are no clear, straight answers. The deed alone doesn’t explain the answer. The intention and consequences complete the picture. One needs a higher faculty of thought and emotion to truly comprehend good from wrong. And sometimes, one requires a deeper realization to understand when and whom to forgive. Hugo convincingly stresses on the immense power of mercy, empathy, and compassion.

Similar to books of those times (such as Crime and Punishment, and The Brothers Karamazov), the human conscience is treated as the voice of God, or higher awakening. When words, thoughts, and rationality fail to provide us with answers, the conscience does.

I relished every bit of the book. I could read Victor Hugo’s words a million times and emerge with a new insight every single time. The only part of the book that detracted my interest was the description of the internal rebellion in Paris. But through the civil war, Hugo indicates both internal and external awakening of a change, of a reformation, of a struggle for equality, and of a perception of higher truths.

It’s a beautiful and powerful book that both satisfies the idealistic and pragmatic viewpoints on morality.

Morally Lucky

Joan’s husband Paul decided to leave her and the kids to realize his inner-self. Since he made the “brave” decision of “following his muse” and not remaining entrapped in the mechanics of worldly life, he expected his wife to take him back with open arms when he realized his pursuit led him nowhere. Joan asks, “You want to come back into our lives. But how can we do that when you are not even ready to acknowledge that you were in the wrong when you left us?”. Paul confidently says, “In my heart I know I wasn’t wrong. I followed my calling. You have praised great souls who renounced their family to achieve a greater purpose, haven’t you?”. To this, Joan retorts, “But you are not a great soul. You came back because you didn’t have it in you to realize what they could.” 
“But none of them would have become great had they not taken the first bold step. I wasn’t aware that I would fail. What matters is that I tried. Would my action be morally acceptable had I succeeded? Am I called a betrayer only because I failed?”
Is Paul’s decision morally acceptable? Or does luck play a role in differentiating right from wrong when one takes a chance?
(Original Source: The eponymous essay from Moral Luck by Bernard Williams (Cambridge University Press, 1981)

I have pretty strong opinions on situations like the one described. I have seen families being neglected by flighty, eccentric husbands who take impulsive, idealistic decisions to serve themselves. There was one man who used to spend his time and meager savings on religious rituals, bhajans and the like, while his family used to struggle to make ends meet. When asked of his responsibility towards his family, he used to take Saint Thyagaraja’s famous words - “Rama will provide. He is the cause of everything, even this desire in me to serve Him all the time  is all His doing.” No, Rama does not provide to such families by magically dropping gold coins from the ceiling. The man is accountable for the misfortunes of his family, not Rama. Another extreme is the man/woman who orients their time and energy on higher, nobler causes such as serving humanity and people in need, not thinking twice about the welfare of their own kids or spouse

I am going to make a rather blasphemous assertion here. I’m sorry if this offends anyone. The famous Tamil poet and freedom fighter, Bharathiyar is still remembered and praised for his progressive attitude, his fierce patriotism, his spiritualism, and scholarly verses. I deeply respect him for being ahead of his times and for imparting rich, wholesome knowledge. But, I find it unacceptable that he didn’t fulfil his basic role and responsibilities as a father and provider. He followed his idealistic principles and didn’t conform to conventional work. What little he got, he is known to have freely distributed to animals and others in need, when his own family would go hungry. While many applaud him for his generosity, I can’t help but pity his poor wife. Back then, women like his wife didn’t even have the resources and means to earn a living by herself. She was completely dependent on a man who put the needs of the country before his promise and responsibility towards her; That to me, is morally wrong in a sense. The pain and anguish his wife went through is very similar to what the women in the above two examples went through.

Charity begins at home. Once we make promises and are responsible for the well-being of somebody who is dependent on that commitment, we can’t afford to forget our duty. I am not against following one’s heart, realizing deeper truths or standing to higher causes. My opinion is that it is wrong to overlook our primary duties in the pursuit of “higher” paths. Even the Hindu philosophy doesn’t talk of renunciation until the worldly/familial responsibilities are taken care of. I would be perfectly fine if the men in the above scenarios were single, or didn’t have any duties that they accepted onto themselves. Or better yet, there are always ways of leading a balanced life without vacillating between extremes of materialism and detachment. I realize that my take has tinges of the “selfish gene” theory. It’s perhaps true. The  "natural-selectionists" would argue that my instinct to perceive this situation as “wrong” or “unethical” arises because it is expected to nurture one’s own gene-pool before helping another set of genes. It's due to these instincts that serve our genes that humanity developed the concept of Morality. But we’ll leave this train of thought for now.

True to Paul’s question on whether luck/success plays a role in exonerating one’s morally dubious action, I am sure there are plenty of lesser-known, hidden “Bharathiyaars” in every town who pursue similar ideals, but are just not recognized, and are hence socially isolated and condemned for ignoring their family. Think about it. Granted, if someone really possesses the talent and innate ability, the likelihood of them being an undiscovered gem in a pile of rubble is low. But luck/chance does play a role in one’s life, doesn’t it? There are misguided idealists who attempt to rise to greatness (inwardly and outwardly), but are either not blessed with the capacity to do so, or are thrown around by fate till they sink into utter oblivion. Such unsuccessful attempts are indeed mocked at, frowned upon, and censured - specifically with the accusation of betraying, hurting and disappointing their family.

Such discrimination is definitely hypocritical to me. I think Paul’s decision to abandon his family to fulfill his muse or desire was indeed morally wrong, for he didn’t worry about breaking his promise to his wife or for overlooking his responsibility towards his children. My opinion will not falter even if he had been successful in his attempt.

One can argue that most moral actions are judged by the intention of the action and not through the consequences. The cliched example is using a knife to purposefully kill, versus using it to accidentally harm/kill someone. So although technically it wasn’t Paul’s intention to hurt or betray his family, he intended to leave them stranded, knowing that his actions will cause pain. It was an informed choice. Even if we are to consider the Utilitarian philosophy of weighing the consequences - Paul’s success will not outweigh the hurt and pain of his family, for he should have honored his commitment to his family. But then, measures of emotion and personal growth are subjective.

What do you think? Does luck/chance play a role in how morality is perceived?

Drawing The Line On Promises

Hew, Drew, Lou and Sue all promised their mother they would regularly write during their trips. Hew wrote his letters, but gave them to other people to post, none of whom bothered. So his mother received no letters from him. Drew wrote her letters and posted them herself, but she carelessly put them in disused boxes and attached far too few stamps, which meant none of the letters reached her mom. Lou wrote and posted her letters properly but the postal system let her down every time. Mother didn't hear from her. Sue wrote and posted her letters properly and also made brief phone calls to check if they had arrived. Alas, none did. Did any of the children keep their promise to their mom? (Source: The moral philosophy of H.A. Pichard, as critiqued by Mary Warnock in, "What Philosophers Think", edited by J. Baggini and J. Stangroom)

How much moral responsibility should one take to ensure that their duties/promises are fulfilled? What is the interaction between the agents, actions and their consequences in deciding the moral philosophy of executing a duty?

From the excerpt, it feels like Sue was the only child who gave her best in trying to fulfill her promise. The rest somehow, did not put in their best efforts. But in our everyday world, Sue would be called a paranoid person, a stickler, a perfectionist, whose actions are probably unrealistic to be executed for every given situation. Most of us would probably fall under the category of Lou. We all have our duties, our promises, but how much is really good enough?

To me, a duty remains just a drudged monotony, until the heart is involved. When there is sufficient desire stemming out of passion, care and interest, the effort that is expended is much different, much higher. Ideally, that's how most promises must be viewed. This is not to say that Sue was the only caring child. It is the extent of importance weighed on those particular letters to the mother - Sue attached the greatest importance to them. But I don't necessarily translate this to a proportionate extent of love or affection.

Yet, even Sue's letters didn't reach. Didn't she also fail? This is where the role of consequences come into play. Not all situations and actions can be purely evaluated by their consequences. Surely what matters is the thought, the intentions and the amount of effort, and type of action that go into it. I do attribute the journey to be more valuable than the destination itself. Yet, consequences cannot be always ignored. The severity of the circumstance surely plays a role. If the childrens' duty was to make sure their mother was recovering well in a hospital, surely the actions would have been far more sincere, because the consequences are dire. But still, one can only do their best. And each one defines what their meaning of "best" is, by being true to themselves.

This analogy can also extend to bigger responsibilities we have as citizens of a country, members of a community etc. What is the role we play in avoiding wars and working towards peace? How far should we go in fulfilling those duties? Can one draw a line on how much sincerity goes in fulfilling a promise? The minute one starts to contemplate what the minimum expectation is, the promise becomes a mere compulsion. When the heart is not involved, one can never put in their best, and they stop being completely true to the other person/ recipient.

However, having said that, even if each of us did execute only our bare minimum just for the sense of duty, in the larger perspective, the higher goals can be achieved; like those little squirrels helping Rama build a humongous bridge. Hmm... for a tiny squirrel, maybe that was the best, not the least? I'm digressing... from a practical standpoint, I guess even if each of us did our very least, the effects will still count - helping just one child in need of help, growing just one tree, saving just one room worth of electricity... etc.

The Lifeboat

Roger, the self-appointed captain of the lifeboat, proclaimed, "So this boat can hold twenty people, and there are only twelve of us on the boat, and we have plenty of rations to last us till the rescue team arrives, which won't be more than 24 hours. So we can safely allow ourselves to relax and enjoy on some warm cocoa. Any objections?" "Err...this is indeed a reassuring situation, but rather than enjoy on extra cocoa, shouldn't we try to rescue that drowning lady who's been shouting for help?", asked Mr. Mates. A few people bent their head down to avoid confrontation, while others couldn't care less. "I thought we had agreed that it's not our fault that she's drowning! If we picked her up, we wouldn't be able to enjoy our extra rations! Why should we unsettle the cozy set up here?" And there were surprising nods of agreement to this. Mr. Mates retorted angrily, "Because she is dying and it's our responsibility to save her!! Isn't this reason enough?" "Life is a bitch, if she dies it's not because we killed her", said a cold-hearted Roger. (Source: 'Lifeboat Earth', by Onora O'Neill, republished in "World Hunger and Moral Obligation", edited by W.Aiken and H.La Follette)

Quite a coincidence that I conjured up a similar scenario a couple of posts before, but of course the context in which I used it was different. But nice to know that even I can sometimes think like some well known people ;)


I know that this scenario is so appalling and I'm sure I will hardly come across anyone who might argue that the woman shouldn't be rescued. And the objective of this post/analysis is not to pour over reasons as to why one needs to offer help. This scenario is but an allegory - the boat can be likened to an affluent country with surplus resources, and the dying woman is a metaphor for the thousands of people from war-torn developing countries dying everyday of hunger. In a country like India, the disparity is so stark, that the boat can very well be compared to huge corporations and wealthy merchants. Put in such a manner, isn't it the moral obligation of such affluent sections to help the underprivileged?


Having expressed so, one can notice obvious undertones of communism/socialism. To me this was the biggest revelation. I have always discussed communism in the light of equality, but never from such a stern angle of moral obligation. Philanthropy is heralded as a righteous deed, praised and encouraged. But the above allegory suggests that it's one's mere responsibility, there's nothing to be praised! It's the duty of those people on the boat to rescue the woman; doesn't matter if the resources belong only to them, and was earned by them. It's a crime if they didn't rescue! So if we didn't actively strive to help those in need of help, are our occasional splurges of charity work, half-baked realizations of our moral code?


Is our life indeed such a plain comparison to the people on the boat? One might argue that we hardly get to witness someone suffer and die before our eyes. The reaction of seeing someone die in close quarters is different from seeing those heart-wrenching images on TV millions of miles away, that leave us with a sense of helplessness and disconnect since we don't have the direct means to offer fruitful help as in the case of the allegory, wherein the concrete solution is to jump into the waters and save. But in India we see these images right outside our comfortable homes, and yet there are still very few who actually venture out to at least offer a morsel of food... not leftover food that is "generously" thrown, but actual food. Also, these problems are not as simple and straightforward as a one-time offer of help with food, money or shelter. The problems in the real world require a long-term solution, a sustained effort at uplifting other lives, and a continued resolve to dip into our own resources without a feeling of possession. It requires long-term commitment to the cause. Reaching out and finding ways to help and to keep at it, are the main challenges. Such challenges are deterrents, but it doesn't seem fair if they are converted to comfortable excuses. If no one in the boat knew swimming, it still doesn't justify them not even trying to help.


Having argued that the lifeboat scenario presents minimal challenges as opposed to the real-world, do I still view philanthropic gestures to be nothing more than moral responsibilities? Yes, in a way I do. There are always levels of philanthropy obviously... it all depends on how much a person detaches from their possessions and ego. If I choose to share 3 of my 10 apples, I can't laud myself, but if I give away all 10 and choose to remain hungry a day without looking forward to any ego satisfaction, then that goes a little above moral obligation. Most of the Hindu scriptures prescribe the act of giving and sharing without expecting returns. Maybe in this jungle of a world it's a little too idealistic, but it's nonetheless a good exercise to discipline oneself to work towards more meaningful causes.

Dutiful Sacrifice

Private Kenny's family was engulfed in grief and pain on his recent demise. In a recent bomb attack, he had thrown himself to save his comrades by smothering a grenade. Private Kenny's family had no consolation but the pride they held on account of his heroism to have fearlessly sacrificed his life, quelled their grief. But just as his family tried to cope with his loss, their shred of honor and pride was snatched by the regiment, which refused to acknowledge Private Kenny's act through the prestigious award - The Victoria Cross for Bravery. Shocked, his family demanded an explanation. The regiment politely and apologetically stated, "It has been the practice in the past to reward such actions with the appropriate medal. However we have decided that it's a mistake to consider such acts as requiring an exceptional devotion to duty. All military personnel are required to act in the interests of the whole unit at all times. To suggest that Private Kenny's act was over and above the call of duty, therefore suggests that it might be acceptable sometimes not to act in the interests of the whole unit. This is clearly absurd. Therefore we no longer reward such acts with posthumous awards. Although we appreciate this is a painful time for the family, we should also point out that Private Kenny would have died in the blast anyway, so it's not even the case that he sacrificed his life for his colleagues." The cold letter added insult to injury. Is the regiment's take on this incident justified? (Source: The Pig That Wants to be Eaten, Julian Baggini)


It's quite possible that your initial reaction on reading the letter from the regiment was of anger or shock, or perhaps just intrigue. I was shocked and furious, although Kenny is but a fictional character and I've had no one in the army to even realize the true emotional implications. I was not necessarily shocked because of the regiment's cold-hearted logic in refusing an award, but because I equate the loss of a life in the name of war, as just a horrible exploitation of human beings. This is probably out of naivete, but I can never fathom why we humans need to still resort to physical duels to resolve issues. My God, we have been through millions of years of evolution, isn't it time that we stop acting so animalistic and territorial, literally butting heads, or clawing each other to let our "brawn" and physical might determine the "winner"? How ridiculous that we still can't use our developed brains and ability to reason as tools to come to a solution! It deeply saddens me when I hear of soldiers dying every single day trying to "fight" the "bad" guys. Sadly that's how the world is and we have not really civilized beyond knowing how to dress well and put on social charades.


I should probably stop attributing humans as being "special" just because we are at the highest level of the food chain, and we have a 6th sense to boast about. Survival is still our prime instinct. So anyway, having resigned to that, I must say that for someone to look beyond their personal interest and survival and to have sacrificed their life does merit a proper recognition. It does take immense courage. Doesn't matter if they merely executed their duty and moral code. A person who enters the army knowing fully well that he might lose his life as part of his duty, by itself deserves merit. The duty poses a threat to our very basic instinct of survival, and to act selflessly at that tragic second requires tremendous will to push aside the basic survival instinct. For a person to stare straight at death and still not have his thoughts and body reflexively protect him, is indeed a feat.


Besides, incentives, encouragement and motivation are necessary elements for effective performance. Yes, it's the duty of every student to excel in every class in school. Why then are their awards for top rank holders? It's the duty of parents to take care of their children. Why then should mothers and fathers be revered and appreciated? We keep imposing a lot of idealism, regardless of whether we are equipped to naturally be so accomplished. Incentives are those that drive us - for many, recognition is what fuels their motivation and brings meaning to their lives. Our scriptures preach that our motivation and sense of duty should be independent of the results/consequences/incentives. But that doesn't justify indifference to a duty well performed. Incentives need not be materialistic, a sense of respect and honor are higher awards.


An oft repeated pattern in all moral dilemmas is the delicate balance between doing "good" versus self-interest. For someone to take that extra leap to save a child from a frothing sea or a burning building, risking their own lives is surely extraordinary and heroic. Does that make the rest of us, who do value their life higher than others, moral failures? Or as I mentioned, are we just trying to impose idealism that is against the way nature made us?