A main thesis of George Fletcher's book(1) is that utilitarians who wish to outlaw some kinds of desecration and public indecency are allowed no argument by their theory except giving offense to others, which is quickly shot down by the First Amendment in the numerous cases in which the offenders are expressing something; whereas communitarians can explore arguments that do not have this liability. I wish to examine some of the arguments underlying the second part of his thesis; in doing so I shall draw upon and expand what I said earlier in The Non-suicidal Society(2) and Loyalties.(3) There is a cluster of interrelated feelings and dispositions which, in different ways, illuminate each other as well as loyalty. They include pride, shame, self-respect, egoism, alienation, sense of community, sense of possession, and social identity. Loyalty, as well as pride and shame, is a cousin of egoism. Only if I consider my society (and I am not alienated from it) am I capable of being proud or ashamed of it or loyal or disloyal to it; for these are all ego-dependent notions. I cannot, for example, be proud or ashamed of an iceberg, or of Bancock, unless I think I own or made the iceberg, or think of Bancock as my city. The only things I can be proud or ashamed of besides myself are things that are mine, in a sense of mine that greatly antedates legal ownership. Why, we might ask, do I think of anything as mine? I suspect that the earliest form of the idea relates to basic needs more than to either exclusive proprietorship or some prehistoric analog of legal ownership: my mother, my children, my family, my clan, and my safe and familiar home turf. These earliest possessions were social and contributed to the construction of my conception of myself by means of social categories--as son, parent, family, and clan member; or did so as soon as people were sufficiently evolved to have a conception of the self. Feelings of loyalty and, later, the concept of it, arose in response to relations between myself and both what I needed and what needed and made demands on me. But loyalty is not just a variant of egoism because there is an immense difference between what benefits me and what benefits my child or my country. This is the paradox of egoism and group egoism (as well as love) that perpetually confuses people about what is selfish and what is not. One acknowledges the existence of something one loves as one loves oneself, but which is not oneself and can require the sacrifice of the self. However, possession is only part of what is necessary for pride or shame; once I have a sense of possession, objective features of things come into play. The iceberg is a potential object of pride because it is grand, but a dead cockroach on my kitchen floor or a hole in my roof is not. Like pride, loyalty depends on both sense of possession--or better, its more complex relative, sense of social identity--and the repeatable features of things. There do seem to be things we just value or disvalue, whether or not they are ours. A heap of garbage or the dead cockroach is disvalued, whether it is my garbage or anyone else's. Intelligence and compassion are admired independently of loyalty, admired even in our enemies. We point with pride to the admirable qualities of our city and are ashamed of its disgusting qualities. Great poverty, ugliness, or evil government can alienate me and eventually kill loyalty, while beauty, friendliness, justice, and unique physical features enhance my loyalty. Alienation is the contrary of loyalty; it is the blocked normal development, or the later loss, of a sense of possession and identity with my family, workplace, city, or nation. Loyalty is close to love and implies concern; alienation manifests itself as indifference or hostility. Loyalty-enhancing and -alienating qualities are not necessarily moral or even admirable. There are numerous and sometimes surprising causes of loyalty or alienation, and their ultimate explanation, I believe, has to be anthropological and evolutionary. …
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