“Compromise,” the lady said, “is the process whereby those of opposing principles agree to set aside their differences, however vast, to frame a resolution which includes some measure of both gain and loss for both parties. A compromise can thus insure against a loss that might otherwise be total, in exchange for the concession that victory can never be complete. It is therefore the safest course of action in any number of day-to-day disputes, whether they are domestic, legal or philosophical.”
“Sure, ok.” said Solomon, and proceeded to cut the baby in half.
It's been a while since I wrote, and at least part of the reason is the thorniness of the issue I decided I'd write about. I've been asking myself what good my absolutist tendencies are doing myself or the philosophical causes I believe in. And everywhere I look in these circumstances, the word compromise is there, taunting me with one of its various definitions, including “trading preferred elements and outcomes to arrive at a mutually acceptable solution,” as well as “abandoning one’s professed beliefs to avoid or end conflict”. Other forms of the word are troublesome too, like compromised, which is to say "weakened by one's own actions, generally in contradiction of professed beliefs" Now, just where you are in that range of definitions determines whether the word is friend or foe.
By way of example, I might well write a book, bound to be a best seller, with the compelling title "Hole in the Ground Full of Snakes: Reasons Not to Get In One". While my outline is incomplete, I am thinking of a chapter on why snakes are unpleasant that is sure to stir the hearts of every American. I will give concrete examples of the injury done to so many by various holes in the ground filled with snakes, particularly elderly folks on fixed incomes. I think a chapter on how hard it is to get out of the hole makes sense too. But let's be clear: My intended audience is people who are considering getting into a hole in the ground filled with snakes, along with those who have to walk by such holes frequently, and, of course, the people who love them.
Not on that list is a significant group of readers to whom the book is of no use whatsoever, but who nevertheless have an abiding interest in the topic: people who are already stuck in a hole in the ground filled with snakes.
I've impugned the impassioned pleas of others on such grounds. "We should never have gone to war in Iraq," they say.
"Conceded," I say, at least for the sake of argument. "So what do we do now?"
"Well, I'm just saying we had no business being there..." The rest is muffled, probably by a snake.
My argument is not that such nay saying is wrong or even entirely unnecessary, just that it is not, in and of itself, particularly useful in getting us out of Iraq.
So, here I am, hoisted on my own petard as they say. I am sincere in espousing the various elements of human freedom mentioned in these pages. But building a model society is way too often just that, building a model of a society instead of fixing the real one.
Back to that hole in the ground full of snakes. I am already stuck in it. We all are, I think many will agree, particularly as economic troubles deepen. And many of us will have differing view of the best way out of the hole and what a non-hole in the ground filled with snakes world looks like. And, while I know that my solutions are the correct ones, they will not be easy to execute without the involvement of others in the hole. Lacking any particular authority over one another, we may simply all have to take the long view: what set of agreements will get me closer to being out of the hole in the ground filled with snakes? Can I accept a plan I believe will be unsuccessful if it moves my plan closer to being executed? Will those who believe in my plan think me disingenuous for working with those who don't?
The trick is to keep your overall beliefs in mind, knowing they can't be held absolute in the world without constant bloodshed. But surely there must be some sacred, immutable line never crossed or sullied by the stain of compromise, right? No, actually. Because as soon as it is immoveable, it becomes another absolute that will never be held to.
The choices therefore become pretty clear. You can be a voice crying in the wilderness--"look on my works ye mighty and despair"--you can try for something that looks even a little more like your ideal, or, you can move to a very isolated spot, in the desert, the tundra, or the far side of the moon, and start over completely.
Assuming there is more than one of you, by the way, starting over changes nothing. But you will get to see it all happen again.
