Antifatherhood postscript: The Parable of the Good Chef
AS AN ADDENDUM to the last article, a reader named Patrick offered this following analogy on the difference between power and authority I thought brilliantly clear, so I here reproduce it as a postscript. The italic text is reader Stephen, whom Patrick is answering:
“If we require wielders of violence to be truly effective and dedicated to their job, after all, it is only human nature that they will grow to enjoy doing what they are good at, or that those likeliest to become good at it are those who enjoy it”
I think you’re equivocating ‘wielders of violence’ with ‘holders of authority’ – we all know that the qualities that make a good ruler or magistrate are not the qualities that make an effective killer.
We know the qualities that make an effective policeman or general are not the qualities we find in effective murderers and criminals.
The quality of loving constant violence would make a more exemplary criminal, but would be a defect in a policeman.
But men who ‘enjoy’ violence are, inasmuch as they enjoy, are like men who pursue any other kind of appetite – and there’s no reason to think they are any better at pleasing themselves with violence than a hungry person is when pleasing himself with food.
Both hunger and violence, without additional qualification, morally neutral – they become occasions of praise or blame in context of something else.
Think of two different kinds of love for food – one is the gourmand, who enjoys and especially appreciates food for all it can be, and the other is the obese, who eats her pleasure and eats her fill and eats some more and eats when she doesn’t want and wants when she doesn’t eat.
The gourmand’s zest for food has its occasions; the obese eats at any opportunity.
If our authorities enjoy what they are doing and do it well, we notice that they do well what we put them in charge of – we don’t see an endless escalation of violence or obesity among them, but an increase of moderation and the order of justice.
Good authority has its occasions for violence, where the powerful must be just and effective; the tyrannous prefer violence to reasonable government.
A gourmand may become a cook or a chef, for the love of the craft of foodmaking.
A good chef knows how to clean his kitchen, and takes satisfaction in puttng away his tools, as much as taking them out. He would not be so good a chef if he left them for others to do, or let them rust or wear out. A good chef knows how to make enough, and not too much – he would not be a good chef if he could not say how much food there would be when he was finished. These are important parts of mastering food. To resent or neglect these would be a defect of craft.
To be a good chef, you have to love food, but there’s more to it. To be obese, you need not love food, but you certainly must eat more than you need. A gourmand may be a good chef, and may be an obese chef, but I don’t see how one could be a ‘good’ obese.
A lover of violence who knows how to make violence, who knows how to make enough violence, but not too much, is acquainted with justice, and can pursue violence ‘for’ something. The more he knows justice, the better he will be at using violence.
Being in authority is like being a chef – a good chef at least cannot hate foodcraft, and a good ruler at least cannot hate statecraft. A chef who despises food and cooking will be immoderate and make poor dishes, and a ruler who hates power and judgement will be immoderate and make poor decisions – in any event, both lead to dissatisfied, untended people.
A magistrate who decided like a lover of murder would be a bad and untrustworthy magistrate; an executioner of justice who killed like a psychotic would be a bad and untrustworthy executioner of justice.
In a good policeman, enjoying his craft, we would find a ‘bad’ psychopath – we would watch him all day for spectacular and unprovoked bloodshed, and be disappointed. As much a good policeman might excel at violent force, we’d rarely see him at it – he loves many things about his work just as much. A good magistrate, at her desk, is ‘bad’ at tyranny – she would make wise and sensible recommendations from dawn to dusk, and never spend an hour – not even her lunch hour – acting like Caligula.
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
