In defense of sheep

"Think for yourself. Don't just follow the crowd. Don't give in to peer pressure." It is all good advice. Some of the time.

Consider religions. Alongside their differences, they are all opposed to such things as deserting your children, drinking your wages away, engaging in extramarital affairs, and being unkind to your family members. Most members of most congregations do not do those things, most of the time. A person who is tempted to stray would do well to follow the crowd.

Some people would do well to belong to a crowd so they can follow it. The loners who commit campus shootings come to mind. Despite their isolation at one level, we can consider them members of an implicit crowd: society at large. They would do better to follow the wisdom of the crowd.

These cases may seem to miss the point a little because we doubt the philanderer or shooter is thinking they are performing a moral act. Suppose we consider the advice narrowed down to "When deciding whether something is morally right, don't just follow the crowd." Is this good advice? Some of the time.

Consider some nonconformists who made the news: The founders of Heaven's Gate, and the founder of Jonestown (Jim Jones). Both groups ended with mass suicides. (You can focus on the followers, who we wish had not followed the crowds they had joined, but here we focus on the leaders, who started their groups by not following a crowd.) William Miller convinced followers that the world was to end on a certain day in 1844, and while the consequences were less dire than suicide, it does not on balance seem to have been a good thing. We celebrate radical nonconformists, notable examples being Jesus, Buddha, or Martin Luther. But consider that for all we know for every one of them there have been three others who led people astray.

For those who believe abortion is murder, whether to kill doctors who perform abortions might not be a simple choice. The world would be better if all followed the overwhelming view of the anti-abortion movement that this is not a good choice, instead of a few following their consciences to a different conclusion.

Sometimes the problem is not knowing what is right and what is wrong, but how important it is. It is easy for a group to get bogged down and miss its primary objectives if members who are intent on following their consciences insist on objecting to using paper plates and plastic silverware, using a conventional product when a fair trade one is available, or debating whether the term "people of color" or "non-whites" is more appropriate.

Should a group sell all its stock in a company that does bad things, or should it keep the stock and try to change the policies through shareholder resolutions? You can express your views in discussion, but once the group has decided, maybe it is better to go along rather than stand on principle and refuse to let the question subside.

Suppose you belong to a high school group, and some members have a habit of littering. Should you take a strong stand and risk expulsion from the group? It isn't obvious. Suppose group members use ethnic slurs talking amongst themselves? You certainly do not have to participate, and there is a strong case for speaking up, but is a high-stakes confrontation called for? Working within to change opinions has merit, and the person's own need to belong has to be considered. We don't want a situation where all high school students of conscience have to be loners, because they find something morally questionable about the actions of all of their peers.

So what it comes down to, really, is that you should follow the crowd when they are right and not when they are wrong -- and when it is important. And it might be more often than not that the wisdom of the group is better than your own solitary judgments.

Thoughts on the time before death

At my FUSN visioning table several weeks back we got into a discussion of death, which got me thinking.

Typically we attach great significance to the time just before death. When reporting a person's death, people are very likely to add that the person died surrounded by friends and family, that it was peaceful, and/or that it was at home, whichever of those things were true.

It is important if we think it is important; shared customs of this kind do not need justification. But sometimes I wonder whether it has to be so important. My thoughts are based on the premise that nothing significant of a person survives death. Sure, the deceased lives on in memory, which is obvious. But otherwise, nothing. Those who do not accept that premise may feel unmoved by what follows.

Suppose a dear friend leaves you, moving to some remote spot, never to communicate with you again. If in your final parting your friend is happy and comfortable with your relationship, then in your years ahead you can imagine him or her as staying happy and comfortable. If your friend is distraught and angry, you will imagine things differently. This makes sense because your last communication is a good predictor of future feelings.

If on the other hand your friend dies instead of moving away, how do you feel then? I think I perceive a general tendency to feel the same way, to project your last interactions into this person's future, but in this latter case there is no support in reality for that feeling.

Consider a different aspect of the same situation. Suppose the friend stayed her last night as a guest in your house, and you have an earnest, emotionally intense few hours where you try to tie up loose ends and say goodbye. Suppose her flight is cancelled, and she comes back to spend one more night. Does this invalidate your hours of goodbye?

Suppose that in her next-to-last week alive, your friend is distraught and angry, and in her last week alive, she is calm. On the other hand, suppose she is calm in her next-to-last week and distraught in her last week. Once again, it feels like it matters, and it matters if we think it does, but does it have to?

Suppose a person has been working hard for years on a scientific project, and the moment of truth arrives, when we find out whether it is a success or failure. Is the person’s life to be viewed differently if she dies the day after the news is known, or the day before? It would matter a great deal if she was leaving for a remote location, but does it matter if she instead ceases to be?

One reason that a person’s final days or hours might seem so important is that we apply our “moving away” feelings. For believers in an afterlife, this may make sense. Perhaps you could take the strength of the rightness of those feelings to indicate that you really do believe in an afterlife even if you thought you didn’t. But I think it’s worth considering that our many cultural traditions that make the end of life special could be shadows of a denial of the finality of death, rather than its acceptance.

To put this in context, being together and caring for one another in times of distress is good. Measures to reduce a dying person's feelings of pain, anxiety, and loneliness are very important. Doing whatever we as the living need to do to gain closure in our relationship is also important. Keeping a community whole by observing its traditions can be important. Death of a loved one can be so hard to bear, I think anything that works or that helps is good, no questions asked. But on the other hand, if a dying person is not interested in deep conversations, or wants to deny to the end that he or she is actually dying, could those be valid choices too? Or if someone cannot make it to the deathbed, or they could have but didn't, it could offer some comfort to consider that the situation could be viewed more matter-of-factly, and with considerable justification.