Imagine you are the only witness to a stranger’s last moments, and, just before passing away, the stranger asks that you scatter her ashes in some inconvenient location. Do you have a moral duty to this stranger? You have no relation to this stranger and you did not agree to accept any prior posthumous requests, so it is unfair for you to be burdened with this moral task. Moreover, it fails to compare to any duties of aid or rescue, like assisting with a flat tire or saving a drowning child, since there is nobody (alive) who benefits from the actions. Still, we feel a compulsion similar to a duty towards fulfilling this stranger’s final request – perhaps it is compassion, empathy, or some belief in the supernatural. I argue that we do not have any moral duty to such requests. These cases lack any grounds of consent or reasons for fidelity, which suggests that our compulsions to act are not based on any actual moral duty. I argue that these compulsions can be based on imaginary duties, like a saint’s “duty” (more accurately, supererogation) to devote all of our resources to charity, or a white supremacist’s “duty” (more accurately, moral ignorance) to promote racial supremacy. I further argue that such deathbed requests are instances of moral blackmail, and are thereby morally indecent in nature.
Tag: notdanielchoi
Craig Ferguson: the Professional Unprofessional
Craig Ferguson is unpretentious. Why use an adjective in the negative to describe him? Why not say “authentic,” “humble,” or “genuine?” He’s certainly all those things, but I want to emphasize the point that he defies the norms of late-night television, and deliberately trims all the neat lacing of an outward television persona. Another post might look closely at the form of his show in general: the absurd elements and what makes the show so special. Here, instead, I want to focus on the person, Craig Ferguson, and abstract away to the idea of being unpretentious.
We can draw a connection to being unpretentious in our own lives: our professional sides, and the double life we lead in the professional world. We change the way to speak, act, and show ourselves in order to present our professional selves in the best light. Television hosts must do the same, but, for Craig Ferguson, his approach, particularly with his guests, is to be unpretentious and instead just focus on building a relationship with his guest. Unlike other talk shows, his guest is not merely a client promoting their project in exchange for more viewers, nor is his guest subject to the host’s particular TV persona.
Craig Ferguson is essentially relation: he shifts the focus to the other and is empathetic to the point of forgetting to worry about how he looks and how he comes off to the gaze of the audience. The relationship he builds with the guest is the performance. The key to making the conversation with his guests interesting is that he’s genuinely interested in his guest. He asks engaging questions that are not superficial. It can get intimate, inappropriate, or indecent – all the things you’re not supposed to do in the professional world – but it is interesting.
Professional relationships are superficial and risk adverse, and thereby mostly uninteresting. As a professional, you cannot get intimate because it risks offending the other party or creating an uncomfortable environment: all elements that are not conducive to business, transactions, or a work relationship. Even the jokes in a professional context are sterile, forced, and disingenuous. The professional world is so concerned with optics, maintaining power, and looking competent that it creates an air of pretention and self-aggrandizement. Put differently, it’s about selling an image instead of meaningful interactions. There are boundaries to stay within because it is the superficial where we can all comfortably interact – this universality of professionalism, from the lens of comedy, is trite and hackneyed.
Notice how Craig Ferguson shifts all the attention and focus to the guest instead of trying to focus on maintaining his professional façade. He is free from boundaries, and he is free to explore all the uncomfortable areas for humor and an interesting conversation. He might end up looking foolish, incompetent, or weak, but this is the risk he takes in being unpretentious.
John Mulaney and Comedic Storytelling
Stories are powerful for connection, teaching, and stepping into someone’s point of view. Throughout histories and cultures, storytelling has had different functions, forms, and medium. We’ll be exploring the intersection between comedy and storytelling through the comedian John Mulaney.
Voice
Comedy voice is a bit of an elusive term, but we can begin to describe it with reference to the Greek word “ethos,” meaning something like character or a particular set of values identifiable to a person. For John Mulaney, his ethos is a refined character with an almost century old, vaudevillian energy that doesn’t belong in this era. His suit and his transatlantic tone in his voice gives a sense of displacement for the audience: he doesn’t belong in this world, and he projects that persona into his comedy. This is the seed of instant connection with the audience: everybody feels confused, flustered, and displaced in the world at times. Yet John Mulaney does not carry himself as the disheveled, unattractive outcast. His speech has the rhythm of a professional and his manner of speaking is polished, almost like written theatre. He personifies two ends: ourselves in the world sees us – put together with a façade of manners and conduct – and the way we are in private – clumsy, awkward, and trying our best to navigate the world. This is John Mulaney’s point of entry and the way of connecting with the audience.
Technique
There are some notable techniques particular to John Mulaney. The structure of his story begins with a benign topic or some average occurrence in his life, then it starts to build up. Note that the source of comedy is in the absurd. The story turns into something weird about life or how his personal social faux pas. He points out how absurd things are in a couple of ways. For one, he provides commentary in the form of a relatable observation which breaks the fourth wall. Every step or pause, he wants to sprinkle in how absurd and weird the particular occurrence is. He points out to the audience to the tension within all of us between our professional and personal selves: he uses overblown, exaggerated impressions of people, he uses descriptive, flowery adjectives, and he uses his tone and gestures to paint a picture of an absurd scene. Notice also that he’s fundamentally self-deprecating to further relate to the audience. Any witty mocking of others is always couched in lowering himself first.
Effectiveness
The difference between the politician telling a story and the comedian telling the story is that the politician has to instill a sense of confidence and capability in the audience; the comedian, however, can show foolishness and weakness, and this arguably makes the comedian more genuine and authentic. The core vulnerability and humility in the comedian gets the audience on their side: once the audience is on their side, they can add “tags” or throwaway jokes or push for something more self-laudatory only because the audience acknowledges the comedian is, by their own title, a clown, a jester, a licensed fool. However, much like the politician, the comedian has insights, observations, and can serve as an advisor, as is the Shakespearean fool. John Mulaney is the modern court jester and a master storyteller.
Conan O’Brien and Universal Humor
There is a lot that is unique about Conan, but some notable aspects of his career are his longevity and global reach. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. He’s Harvard educated, knows his history, wrote on The Simpsons, stumbled into Late Night, and has been in the game for a long time and he keeps going, growing, and expanding. From Korea to podcasts, he’s a case study of someone who made a career of silliness.
Play and silliness is universal. You might call it corny, hacky, or lame. But he taps into the universal silliness that’s cross-cultural and perhaps cross-historical. His vaudeville-like physical humor is childlike and pure. However, he is witty and smart. He’s a professional who works hard and plays harder. He is sarcastic and he has a jaded, dark side to him. He knows all the tools of a good stand-up comedian in virtue of his vast experience. Yet what is remarkable about Conan is his willingness to be silly.
Silliness can be thought of as intentionally looking like a fool. We all do it from a young age and it can be seen among other higher-order primates. It’s playing a role, acting stupid, or being the outlandish clown. It displays an invitation to play and jest with others, and it’s the most basic form of interpersonal entertainment. Silliness can function as a signal to others that you aren’t looking to be combative, you want to neutralize the situation, and you want to engage in play. It’s a form of conflict resolution and social bonding, but it can also be inappropriate in certain social circumstances. For instance, it might be a faux pas to be overly silly at a funeral because the sacred and the solemn should not be undercut by the silly.
Some people might not find silliness funny per se. However, arguably all humor is an evolution of this primitive notion of silliness and play. We might look for more sophisticated forms of humor in the form of wit, wordplay, or deep observations; however, a carefully constructed joke is still a form of silliness. The silliness might deal with topics of the absurd and the ironic, but it still points out the silliness.
What is notable about Conan’s silliness is that it is mainly self-directed, thus, self-deprecating. Contrast this with the “cool” stand-up comedian that takes themselves too seriously to be self-deprecating: there’s a pretense and superiority that is at the opposite end of silliness — such people seem to be communicating socially exclusionary behavior and keeps others at arm’s length. Silliness brings people in. It brings everybody in to share in the joke of his foolish clown act.
The Function of Comedy
[This post is based on a YouTube video I made.]
Even if you’re not a comedian, (or just pretend to be one) you sometimes play the role and others around the play the role as well. It plays an important function. First, it can act as a social lubricant. Think of a scenario where the atmosphere is palpably tense and awkward, and somebody cracks a joke and it immediately lightens the mood in the room. Comedy helps us bond and interact – it breaks the barrier of the strange “other.” According to one estimate, we are thirty times more likely to laugh with other people than when we are alone. (Provine, 2000, p. 45) Think of the laugh tracks on the Big Bang Theory. It’s not a funny show. Fight me. Comedy can ease charged situations and relieve tension. More examples: announcing bad news, apologizing, complaining, warning, criticizing, commanding, evaluating… Second, and related, it can establish trust. Being funny is an attractive quality, especially in a romantic partner. Laughing gives pleasure – and a lot of it! So ugly people, listen up. Moreover, the requisites to being funny – like being witty, relatable, and having a personality – shows intelligence, creativity, adaptability, and empathy. Not everybody can be funny, and not everybody can make you laugh – if they can, then there’s already a special bond formed.
More austere, comedy can be useful for education; specifically, philosophical education. Let’s take a closer look at the modern stand-up comedian. They both report a particular point of view and a set of experiences, and they note puzzling ones. Like the observational comic: “What’s the deal with airplane food?” They both try to find some common ground or shared experience, then they analyze this by stepping out and looking at it from a different perspective. They’re both generally contrarian and don’t abide by accepted customs or traditions, but they critique and analyze it (ironically, satirically, etc.). Sometimes the quickest way of realizing something is wrong is through humor (e.g. south park). They both pay close attention to language. A good joke is economical and uses as few words as possible; moreover, a joke must use exactly the right words to express an idea clearly to an audience. They teach complex ideas and present them in plain English, sometimes through indirect communications – that is, the lesson and subtle and not in-your-face. They both seek to clarify confusing things and find new truths and insights. A comedian often looks at another good joke and thinks, “Why didn’t I think of that, that’s so obvious.” Creativity and cleverness are prized. Other times, comedians aren’t so profound: sometimes jokes are just for the sake of getting a laugh and are absurd in the sense that they have no purpose. “This seems plainly absurd: but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must learn not to be frightened by absurdities” (Russell, 1912, p. 31). Philosophy should be more for the people. It’s been removed to academics and so obfuscated that it has little relevance for the general public. Comedians try to break that boundary by making these general philosophical ideas more palatable and enjoyable to consume. This relationship between philosophy and comedy isn’t so far-fetched. Because I said so.
A unique feature of a good comedian is their comedic voice. Their stage persona – their je ne sais pas. It’s what makes a great actor, story, scene, song, or piece of art. It builds a certain relationship with the audience, and they connect strongly to the audience in a real way. In rhetoric they call it “ethos,” and it’s what makes a great speaker convincing and believable.
Momentum also ties into this. Typically, comedians have to have a strong opening joke in order to build this relationship of trust with the audience. After we laugh at somebody’s joke, we feel something towards them. The comedian can use this to propel their other jokes on the momentum of their previous successful joke; however, if a joke is unsuccessful, they lose credibility and lose the momentum. They have to build the trust again and get the audience on their side.
Philo-so-fun 