Losing your reflection

When in Offenbach’s opera “The Tales of Hoffmann”, Hoffmann falls in love with Giuletta, the latter asks for his reflection so that “He will always be with her”. Not knowing that on her turn Giuletta is under the influence of the sinister Capitaine Dapertutto, Hoffmann naively gives her what she asked for, but when he looks in a mirror and sees that his reflection has gone, he realizes that he has not only lost his soul and self image, but that he lost his identity. Since Giuletta has hand over Hoffmann’s reflection to her master, Hoffmann’s identity and so his life is now in Departutto’s hands.

For Hoffmann it’s a dream and when he wakes up he realizes that his relationship with Giuletta is symbolic for his relationship with his real love Stella, and that he must break with her. But is this tale of Hoffmann not more than a story that is good by way of entertainment in a book or the libretto of an opera?

Take a mirror and look in it. What do you see? You think you see yourself as you are, that you see an objective image of yourself. However, on a Dutch website I found that less than half of the Dutch women are not satisfied with their reflections. They have too many wrinkles, or so they think. They are too thick, or so they think. Etc. You know what I mean. The same website says that 60% of all women in the world feel unhappy, insecure or anxious when they look in the mirror. How can it happen? The example illustrates that apparently it is not because you see an objective image in the mirror. You don’t see simply yourself in the mirror but you see there your Self. The reflection has a meaning for you: It shows who you Are.

A century ago the American sociologist Charles Cooley developed the concept of looking glass self. It involves the idea that your self-image arises in an interaction between how you see yourself and how others see you. First, so Cooley, you develop an image of how you think that others see you. Then you interpret how you think that others judge you (positively, negatively or otherwise). Third, on the basis of these processes you judge yourself: You feel pride, embarrassment, chagrin, or whatever it maybe. So your self-image develops. The judgments on which it is based need not be correct, but if you don’t know that it is false, you behave according to your self-image. For instance, when looking in a mirror, you see only that you have wrinkles, if they are judged important in society (otherwise you wouldn’t give attention to them) and you think that others see them on your face and that they think that you look old because of them. You feel insecure because of that, because present (Western) society says that being young is better. So you want to do something about it. Wrinkles apparently belong to your image and to your identity (in your view), and you want to change that. But by doing so, in fact you do what Hoffmann did. The case of wrinkles is just a little example, but in order “to belong to it” (to society, to the group of people around you that you consider relevant to you) people increasingly adapt their self images to what they see as how these images “must” be. Acting that way, you deliver your identity to others and let them make and manipulate your identity. (Another option would be to follow your own principles and have the relevant others take you as you are; see my blog http://philosophybytheway.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-other-directed-man.html).

But your reflection, and with that your Self, is not only in a mirror. It is everywhere, certainly nowadays, and it is caught everywhere. Take the social media. Look around in a train, in a restaurant, even during a break in the opera: People are so longing for contact, that at every dull moment they take their smartphones and check their apps and social media. Messaging, liking, chatting with our “friends” have become part of us. And just for fear of losing our identity we give it away. We are prepared to give any information – sometimes the most intimate information – to our preferred social media in order to avoid that the contact is broken off, including such personal information as private telephone numbers. “Give it to us, it’s safe with us”, the social media say. But behind your back – or openly – they use your private data for their malicious or sometimes a bit less malicious aims, and influence your behaviour. The recent abuse of telephone numbers given to Facebook is a case in point. We do like Hoffmann in his dream who gave his reflection to Giuletta but in fact gave his identity to Dapertutto, if not to Faust.

References

- http://www.proud2bme.nl/Artikelen_over_schoonheid/Ben_jij_tevreden_met_jouw_spiegelbeeld

- John F. Cuber, Sociology. A Synopsis of Principles. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1963; pp. 253-254.

Manipulation through language

Let’s assume that you got the flu. Now you have two options: Either you consult your doctor. She’ll prescribe you medicines and you know that probably after a week you’ll be better. Or you take to your bed and you let the flu run itself out. Then you know that it is likely to happen that it will last seven days. What will you do?

This case made me think of the “Asian disease problem” described and investigated by Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky. It runs as follows (I quote from Kahneman, see below):

(Case I) Imagine that the U.S. is preparing for the outbreak of an unusual Asian disease, which is expected to kill 600 people. Two alternative programs to combat the disease have been proposed. Assume that the exact scientific estimates of the consequences of the programs are as follows:

- If program A is adopted, 200 people will be saved.

- If program B is adopted, there is a one-third probability that 600 people will be saved and a two-thirds probability that no people will be saved.

When asked most people prefer program A, so they prefer the certain option over the gamble.

Take now this case:

(Case II) Imagine that the U.S. is preparing for the outbreak of an unusual Asian disease, which is expected to kill 600 people. Two alternative programs to combat the disease have been proposed. Assume that the exact scientific estimates of the consequences of the programs are as follows:

- If program C is adopted, 400 people will die.

- If program D is adopted, there is a one-third probability that nobody will die and a two-thirds probability that 600 people will die.

When asked which program they prefer now most people prefer program D, so they prefer the gamble over the certain option. However, Case I and Case II are exactly the same! What is different is the wording of the problem, but the consequences of programs A/C and B/D are identical (see source 2 below). Or as Kahneman says it, the cases are framed in different ways.

Now you might think that only laymen are so “irrational” and that experts will know better. Not true. Once Tversky presented a version of the Asian disease problem to a group of public-health professionals. “Like other people”, so Kahneman, “these professionals were susceptible to the framing effects”. So they, too, chose like the laymen in the test above. And he continues: “It is somewhat worrying that the officials who make decisions that affect everyone’s health can be swayed by such a superficial manipulation”, as is corroborated by other investigations.

Cynically, one might say that in program A in Case I the glass is half full, while in program B the glass is half empty. In Case II this is just so for program D and program C respectively. But in the end, we get the same amount of water for quenching our thirst, whichever option you choose. Marketing professionals know that sometimes you can best say that the glass is half full, while on other occasions you can best say that it is half empty. They choose their words according to their intentions. Politicians often do the same. The word “ragheads” for Arabs or Muslims is a case in point. But didn’t already George Orwell tell us how they use language to manipulate our view on the world? Nevertheless, in the end, framing can be used to the good and to the bad.

But back to the start of this blog: Do you know already whether you’ll consult a doctor when you have got the flu?

Sources:

1) Daniel Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow. London: Penguin Books, 2012; pp. 368-369

2) http://www.workingpsychology.com/lossaver.html

The real house of Montaigne

12 Rue du Maréchal Joffre, Bordeaux, France: The real house of Montaigne?

When I was in Bordeaux, France, recently, of course, I wanted to see the places where the French philosopher Michel de Montaigne had lived and worked. It’s true that his actual house was his castle, 70 km east of Bordeaux, and his main income came from managing his lands. But before he inherited the estate, when his father died, he had been a councillor in the Parliament (court) of Bordeaux. Later he was mayor of the town for a few years. Also outside these periods he came there often. Therefore, as so many lords in the region around Bordeaux, he had also a house in the city. Happily I found a walk on the Internet along the mayor places in Montaigne’s life in Bordeaux.

My walk starts on the Quinconces Square. The square is from the 19th century, but on one side there is a big statue of Montaigne as mayor with his ceremonial cloak. On the opposite side of the square there is a statue of Montesquieu, another great inhabitant of Bordeaux. Then I walk along the River Garonne, till I reach the Cailhau Gate. I pass through it, as Montaigne must often have done in his days as a councillor, and I reach the Palace Square. Once it was in the front of the Ombrière Palace. This palace had been built in the tenth century. In the 16th century it was used by the parliament, but in the 19th century it had been demolished. Not any trace has been left of it. Montaigne worked there for about ten years, till he had enough of it and retired to his castle. He met there his friend Étienne de La Boétie, to whom he devoted his essay on friendship.

From the square I walk to the Mirail Street and then to the Rousselle Street. Now it becomes really interesting, for I wanted to see not only in what kind of environment Montaigne had lived but exactly in which house he had done. And it is in 28 Mirail Street or otherwise in 23-25 Rousselle Street that many Montaigne investigators think that he had his house. It’s true that he had several properties in Bordeaux, but we know also that there was only one house in the town that was his “real house”. But alas, though the Montaigne specialists still disagree, most of them now think that 28 Mirail Street was owned by one of his brothers. However, it is sure that our philosopher must have lived in the Rousselle Street. The premises there were owned by his father. Where else would Montaigne have lived when he went to school in Bordeaux? Also later as an adult he must have come there often. But again, most Montaigne specialists agree that it was not his real house.

I continue my walk and pass the oldest house of Bordeaux. Nearby is a house once owned by the in-laws of La Boétie. I pass the Big Bell Tower and to the right of it I see the former town hall where Montaigne worked as mayor for four years. And in front of me I see the lycée, the grammar school that he visited as a young student. It was one of the best lycées in France and there he came into touch with the classical authors, which had such a big influence on his thinking. But do I really see the lycée? Yes, but only in my imagination, for nowadays the site is occupied by a modern multi-storey car park. Then again I come at a place where Montaigne certainly his lived for some time, next to the St Paul St. François-Xavier church: the official residence of the mayor. Also very interesting, indeed, and Montaigne must have stayed there often. However, it’s not his real house, for the official residence of a mayor is only his house as long as he is in office.

My walk ends in the Aquitaine Museum of history. I can advise you to visit it, for it describes and shows the regional history till far back in the past, when Neanderthals were still roaming around on the banks of the Garonne. But I am not there for learning about the region’s past but for seeing Montaigne’s cenotaph. After his death, Montaigne was interred in the Les Feuillants Convent and his wife had had made a beautifully decorated stone coffin for him. The monastery was demolished in 1880 and now you find there the Aquitaine Museum with a special room for Montaigne’s now empty tomb. It’s a worthy end of a walk devoted to Montaigne, and I stay quite long in the room, thinking about the man and his work.

Nevertheless, I leave the museum with a little feeling of dissatisfaction, for where was Montaigne’s residence? None of the houses on my walk where Montaigne had lived apparently was his real house. So I take my smartphone and google for “the real house of Montaigne”. Indeed, I find a website with this name, and it tells me that if there is one house that deserves the title House of Montaigne more than any other one, it is 12 Maréchal-Joffre Street. Why? Because it agrees with some descriptions made about 1800 by some who consider it as the “vraie maison de Montaigne”, as Montaigne’s real house. So I walk to the Maréchal-Joffre Street and stop in front of number 12. The house is in bad condition. Some parts of the original house have been demolished, like the gate and a little tower. Vaguely I can see a few interesting details like a griffin and a blazon. Was this the real house of Montaigne?

Sources:

The walk: https://montaignesuperstar.files.wordpress.com/2016/08/5_rallye.pdf

Article on the “real house of Montaigne”: https://www.sudouest.fr/2010/09/27/la-vraie-maison-de-montaigne-195634-2780.php

Montaigne’s cenotaph: https://sketchfab.com/models/1753b67dd1994771b18e4ac41771a7b4