Tuesday 13 April 2021

Sen's Sakshi & Smith's impartial observer

The word martyr, or shaheed, means 'witness'. For 'Enlightenment' thinkers, like David Hume, what was witnessed by martyrs might not have been Truth. It may have been a delusion of a furious or bigoted kind.

The Indic religions have a different notion of the witness- the 'Sakshi'- which Alison Gopnik believes influenced David Hume in a Buddhist form. However, this Sakshi was not constrained to be human. It could be a Soul or a God or some unimaginable hybrid of both. By contrast, provided our species has a limited life-span, there must always be a way, after the fact, of arriving at a specification of 'human nature'. This conception, though computationally inaccessible to us, might nevertheless be a Schelling focal point whose general direction we might be able to agree on to solve a coordination game. This could be useful in practical matters. The Sakshi however is not constrained in any way. We may say that it is the reflection of  the Godhead- or we may believe it to be something yet more rich and strange. 

Instead of the Sakshi, one may speak of the soul- or Atman- as the ultimate experiencer of what is lived. It is natural to think of the human soul as being human in a way that an impartial witness of the cosmos is not. This is particularly true if we have a theory of karma which posits the Atman rising from lower to higher forms of life and morality. 

This raises the question- is Adam Smith's 'impartial spectator' like the Atman, in Vedanta, which merely looks on, while the Jeeva partakes of the fruit? Perhaps, Amartya Sen's fetishizing of this notion- which he thinks can do the work of Rawls's Original Position- arises out of Sen's undoubted, albeit shallow, Hindu antecedents. Interestingly, Sen makes a distinction between open and closed impartiality, valorizing the former, such that no specific group could ever agree that impartiality had been achieved. There could always be an outsider who might disagree. The great advantage of this approach is that one could make a distinction between an open Sen and a closed Sen. The open Sen can be a mermaid because there may be a planet populated by mermaids who are Sen. A closed Sen, on our planet, is a rigid designator which excludes mermaids. The Sakshi within Sen, properly considered, may be as much a mermaid as a Sen-tentious gobshite. This is particularly important when we are tabulating its capabilities. A realization focused conception of Justice must take account of Sen's capability to be a mermaid while entertaining ideas of Mustice (what? open impartiality could be dyslexic) or geseje pq cijjheet (indeed, open impartiality may be completely illiterate and might just happen to like bashing the keyboard at random.)

 For Smith, who was concerned to diminish concern with 'propriety'- which might involve a narrow, rigid, akrebia- so as to accord with Aristlelian oikonomia- perspective mattered, keeping things in proportion was important, but impartiality, as such, could go hand in hand with impotence- e.g being a buddhijivi gobshite. 

Smith says ' we  frequently find in the world men of great humanity who have little self-command, but who are indolent and irresolute, and easily disheartened, either by difficulty or danger, from the most honourable pursuits; and, on the contrary men of the most perfect self-command, whom no difficulty can discourage, no danger appal, and who are at all times ready for the most daring and desperate enterprises, but who, at the same time, seem to be hardened against all sense either of justice or humanity.'

Amartya Sen identifies the disheartened but Humane man with Arjuna, who does not want to fight. I suppose, he thinks of Krishna as 'hardened against all sense of justice or humanity'.

However, after Arjuna gains Krishna's 'visvarupa'- i.e. cosmic perspective- he becomes a happy warrior and slays his eldest brother unfairly while in the grip of 'manyu'- dark anger. 

Sen, however, thinks this outcome is avoidable. 

He says '‘If the discussion of the demands of justice is confined to a particular locality – a country or even a larger region – there is a possible danger of ignoring or neglecting many challenging counterarguments that might not have come up in local political debates, or been accommodated in the discourses confined to the local culture, but which are eminently worth considering, in an impartial perspective.'

The problem here is that the question 'what is the just way of apportioning x' may seem foolish to an alien people who are not concerned with x or who think x is fundamentally foolish. If you don't know Mathematics because you come from an innumerate Society, you may see greater justice in the Fields medal being awarded to me because of my sterling work in solving intractable problems in algebraic topology by masturbating- which is 'ready to hand'- rather than by applying prismatic cohomology which seems unnecessarily complex.

 By widening the discussion yet further, all arguments and counterarguments may be shown to be terribly silly. From the point of view of the multiverse, the problems of our Galaxy are very small potatoes. 

Of course, one could say that if we only we could only develop our mental faculties sufficiently- and this would involve becoming dispassionate and unaffected by emotions or sentiments or cognitive biases- then we would be Godlike and able to judge by means of 'synoida'- an intuition of univocal Truth.

The Shvetashvatara Upanishad says-

एको देवः सर्वभूतेषु गूढः सर्वव्यापी सर्वभूतान्तरात्मा |
कर्माध्यक्षः सर्वभूताधिवासः साक्षी चेता केवलो निर्गुणश्च ||
"The Lord is hidden in the hearts of all.
The eternal witness, pure consciousness,
He watches our work from within, beyond
The reach of the gunas (attributes of mind)."

But how are we to reach such felicity? One answer is by some process of askesis or Yoga. According to Patanjali, the first requirement of Yoga is gaining the company of the like-hearted- suhrit prapti- for the purpose of mutual support and error correction by 'peer review'. The problem is that this may be adversely selective. As Smith says 'The propriety of our moral sentiments is never so apt to be corrupted, as when the indulgent and partial spectator is at hand, while the indifferent and impartial one is at a great distance.' The problem with academic availability cascades and citation cartels, however globalized, is that you have 'partial spectators' vouching for each others brilliance and humanity. An impartial spectator might ask 'what good are you doing?' That would put an end to all such bonhomie. Justice is at best a Service industry. By contrast, if Heaven is a real place and our Atman can get there, then there is some point to Yoga and Bhakti and so forth.

Fetishizing Justice is no substitute for Religion. On the other hand, working to increase the Wealth of Nations may, Smith sometimes seems to say, lead one from morality to religiosity. But then again it may not. Still, if wealth has increased, some useful purpose has been served. That wealth could later be divided up by the proper ethical theory.

Similarly, one might say the gaining of supernatural powers is the proof that Yoga works. Once those powers are gained, Ethics can ensure those powers are used properly.

The obvious problem is that once Wealth has increased, or Supernatural powers- or even marked excellence of a practical type- has been gained, it may be that Ethics becomes less persuasive in producing a desirable outcome. Baking the cake may create strong resistance to dividing it up in a manner you would otherwise think fair.

There is no a priori, or contractual, method of solving this problem. Incomplete contract theory highlights the role of 'appropriable control rights'. Accommodations must be made such that incentives change depending on who is in control at any given stage of a process. There is no mathematical solution which can be imposed. This insight is similar to Djikstra's 'dining philosophers' problem. There is no rule which can be used to solve 'concurrency' problems in an optimal manner. 

In a sense, this insight is already contained in the ancient acknowledgement that 'economia'- administration- can't be reduced to 'akrebia'- rigid rule following. Alternatively, it follows from the separation of alethic from imperative matters- 'insha' and 'khabar', or Hume's discovery that no 'ought' can be derived from an 'is'. 

Smith's moral philosophy- or sturdy Scottish Common Sense- is largely anti-reductionist, suspicious of Utilitarian claims (like Hutcheson's 'greatest good of the greatest number),  and shrewdly psychological. 

But it doesn't need an impartial observer at all. A better solution would be to talk to a psychologist with a good 'Structural Causal Model' of the emotions and sentiments as well as plenty of practical experience as a man of the world. Indeed, this is what Smith himself is doing when he writes-


In solitude, we are apt to feel too strongly whatever relates to ourselves: we are apt to over-rate the good offices we may have done, and the injuries we may have suffered: we are apt to be too much elated by our own good, and too much dejected by our own bad fortune. The conversation of a friend brings us to a better, that of a stranger to a still better temper. The man within the breast, the abstract and ideal spectator of our sentiments and conduct, requires often to be awakened and put in mind of his duty, by the presence of the real spectator: and it is always from that spectator, from whom we can expect the least sympathy and indulgence, that we are likely to learn the most complete lesson of self-command.

This is the problem with having an 'idea of justice' which is useless. The real spectator suggests that Sen's 'impartial spectator' is a verbose tosser.  

Are you in adversity? Do not mourn in the darkness of solitude, do not regulate your sorrow according to the indulgent sympathy of your intimate friends; return, as soon as possible, to the day-light of the world and of society. Live with strangers, with those who know nothing, or care nothing about your misfortune; do not even shun the company of enemies; but give yourself the pleasure of mortifying their malignant joy, by making them feel how little you are affected by your calamity, and how much you are above it.

In other words, get over yourself. Go out and get a job and rise up by your own efforts. 


Are you in prosperity? Do not confine the enjoyment of your good fortune to your own house, to the company of your own friends, perhaps of your flatterers, of those who build upon your fortune the hopes of mending their own; frequent those who are independent of you, who can value you only for your character and conduct, and not for your fortune. Neither seek nor shun, neither intrude yourself into nor run away from the society of those who were once your superiors, and who may be hurt at finding you their equal, or, perhaps, even their superior. The impertinence of their pride may, perhaps, render their company too disagreeable: but if it should not, be assured that it is the best company you can possibly keep; and if, by the simplicity of your unassuming demeanour, you can gain their favour and kindness, you may rest satisfied that you are modest enough, and that your head has been in no respect turned by your good fortune.

This is perfectly sensible. Show you know how to spend your money sensibly and people will stop assuming you spend all your time pimping out your ride or blinging up your pad. 

What about those who are rich, not in wealth, but reputation? Sadly, the real spectator is likely to tell the impartial observer within you that your head is up your own arse. This can be very triggering more particularly if you've paid good money to insert your head up someone else's arse. 

Smith lived in a realm which was growing in prosperity and power. Wealth was actually increasing. Providence- St. Paul's oikonomia tou mysteriou- was doing a bang up job for English speakers. Maybe this was because of 'synderesis'- i.e. the 'innate principle in the moral consciousness of every person which directs the agent to good and restrains him from evil'- or maybe the thing arose out of social interaction of a rational and sensible type. What mattered was that Wealth was increasing. The Nation was getting stronger and more secure. The 'katechon' was effective in fending off the 'eschaton'- though, no doubt, if you were a nigger being shipped to one of those plantations David Hume promoted, you might think the Day of Wrath had come and gone. Some of Sen's people began getting richer about this time, by working for the Brits. Later, Raja Ram Mohan Roy would lobby Westminster to lift curbs on White emigration to India so as to save the rapacious Hindu from the equally rapacious, but less cowardly, Mussulman. Sen himself was brought up in Shantiniketan, founded by the grandson of Roy's great pal- Dwarkanath Tagore. At that time Bengal was a source of great wealth. Now- not so much. However, one British import- viz. the Judicial system- continues to thrive there. Does it have anything to do with 'moral sentiments'? No. It is a Service industry like any other. Politics may feature some very fine sentiments- but politics doesn't seem to have made the great mass of the people any wealthier. 

It seems 'ideas of Justice' don't matter. Moral sentiments may matter but could destroy Wealth creation. The safer bet- and the course an impartial observer would recommend- would be to concentrate on building wealth for the Nation and leave a hypocritical concern for the poor to the truly rich. 


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