Truth as Placebo

Placebo Truth and Good Friends

By John Taylor; 17 January, 2006

Truth as Placebo

I have been talking much of the past month about the "truth teller's
paradox," how it manifests itself physically in a strange phenomenon
known as the placebo effect. We think something will cure us, and it
does. The truth that makes its own reality seems rooted in the highest
things, in the nature of God Himself, as explained by the Bab almost
at the end of the Persian Bayan,

"The revelation of the Divine Reality hath everlastingly been
identical with its concealment and its concealment identical with its
revelation. That which is intended by 'Revelation of God' is the Tree
of divine Truth that betokeneth none but Him, and it is this divine
Tree that hath raised and will raise up Messengers, and hath revealed
and will ever reveal Scriptures. From eternity unto eternity this Tree
of divine Truth hath served and will ever serve as the throne of the
revelation and concealment of God among His creatures, and in every
age is made manifest through whomsoever He pleaseth." (Selections,
112)

Only this divine lote tree says something and by saying creates a
whole universe, an entire civilization born of believing it. In this
truth teller's paradox is a miracle of faith.

Now I shudder at the whole genre of the musical, but the plot of "The
Music Man" is an unavoidable example of placeboism. A con man comes
and persuades an entire small town that they are miserable because
they are idle and without a purpose; the key to their happiness, he
tells them, is to form a big marching band and stage a big parade.
They enter into it with such gusto that even after his swindle is
exposed everyone continues with the project and finds that unity in
music really does wipe out loneliness and misery. The con turns out
not to be a con, it is real, a pep talk with good effect; it is a
placebo that cures.

The idea of joy in coming together in unity seems increasingly foreign
to our ears. Bob Putnam has written in "Bowling Alone" of the gradual
disappearance of communal activities in the West. Bowling alleys used
to be packed with groups and leagues, now the few that do bowl, tend
to go alone. Computers, television, cell phones, everything we do is
solitary, even when it is communication. Not only marching bands but
knitting groups, card games, glee clubs, service organizations, all
are gradually fading into nothing. People do not have the habit of
coming together, the spark that allows new communal works
spontaneously to form.

Part of it, Putnam says, comes from transportation gridlock. He cites
one study that found that congestion related delay in traffic rose
from 16 hours a year in 1982 to 45 in 1997; those are hours sitting
alone doing nothing, without a peep of protest. Forget about all the
other lonely commuter hours when the car is actually moving! Another
is the design of our city space. High apartment buildings remove the
backyard fence over which local issues used to be discussed. Nobody
takes time to discuss anything deeper than the weather. In an article
called "Sinkhole of Democracy" (Toronto Star, December, 18, 2005) a
journalist with Putnam's observations in mind attempts to enter this
jungle of apartments and discuss politics casually with people she
meets, with mixed results. Imagine what it would be like trying to
discuss religion! No wonder in their recent communications that the
UHJ has been trying to reassure us that this endless dry period of
teaching, and teaching is making friends, seems to be ending at last!
Please God, let it be so.

Now let us turn back to the advice that Socrates gave for making
friends. Making a friend is not the same as forming a marching band,
it is an inherently ethical process, and as Aristotle correctly
judged, ethics is a branch of politics, not ontology. Only the placebo
effect comes from ontology.

Is it Possible for a Bad Man to Make Good Friends?

from Zenophon's Memorabilia of Socrates, Book II, Part VI

And did you imagine (replied Socrates) that it was possible for a bad
man to make good friends?

Cri. Why, yes, when I see some base orator fast friends with a great
leader of the people; or, again, some fellow incapable of generalship
a comrade to the greatest captains of his age."

Soc. But in reference to the point we were discussing, may I ask
whether you know of any one who can attach a useful friend to himself
without being of use in return? Can service ally in friendship with
disservice? Must there not be a reciprocity of service to make
friendship lasting?"

Cri. In good sooth no. But now, granted it is impossible for a base
man to be friends with the beautiful and noble, I am concerned at once
to discover if one who is himself of a beautiful and noble character
can, with a wave of the hand, as it were, attach himself in friendship
to every other beautiful and noble nature.

Soc. What perplexes and confounds you, Critobulus, is the fact that so
often men of noble conduct, with souls aloof from baseness, are not
friends but rather at strife and discord with one another, and deal
more harshly by one another than they would by the most
good-for-nothing of mankind.

Cri. Yes, and this holds true not of private persons only, but states,
the most eager to pursue a noble policy and to repudiate a base one,
are frequently in hostile relation to one another. As I reason on
these things my heart fails me, and the question, how friends are to
be acquired, fills me with despondency. The bad, as I see, cannot be
friends with one another. For how can such people, the ungrateful, or
reckless, or covetous, or faithless, or incontinent, adhere together
as friends? Without hesitation I set down the bad as born to be foes
not friends, and as bearing the birthmark of internecine hate. But
then again, as you suggest, no more can these same people harmonise in
friendship with the good. For how should they who do evil be friends
with those who hate all evil-doing? And if, last of all, they that
cultivate virtue are torn by party strife in their struggle for the
headship of the states, envying one another, hating one another, who
are left to be friends? where shall goodwill and faithfulness be found
among men?

Soc. The fact is there is some subtlety in the texture of these
things. [i.e. a cunning intertwining of the threads of warp and woof.]
Seeds of love are implanted in man by nature. Men have need of one
another, feel pity, help each other by united efforts, and in
recognition of the fact show mutual gratitude. But there are seeds of
war implanted also. The same objects being regarded as beautiful or
agreeable by all alike, they do battle for their possession; a spirit
of disunion enters, and the parties range themselves in adverse camps.
Discord and anger sound a note of war: the passion of more-having,
staunchless avarice threatens hostility; and envy is a hateful fiend.

But nevertheless, through all opposing barriers friendship steals her
way and binds together the true elite, the beautiful and good among
mankind. Such is their virtue that they would rather possess scant
means painlessly than wield an empire won by war. In spite of hunger
and thirst they will share their meat and drink without a pang. Not
bloom of lusty youth, nor love's delights can warp their self-control;
nor will they be tempted to cause pain where pain should be unknown.

It is theirs not merely to eschew all greed of riches, not merely to
make a just and lawful distribution of wealth, but to supply what is
lacking to the needs of one another. Theirs it is to compose strife
and discord not in painless oblivion simply, but to the general
advantage. Theirs also to hinder such extravagance of anger as shall
entail remorse hereafter. And as to envy they will make a clean sweep
and clearance of it: the good things which a man possesses shall be
also the property of his friends, and the goods which they possess are
to be looked upon as his. Where then is the improbability that the
beautiful and noble should be sharers in the honours and the offices
of the state not only without injury, but even to their mutual
advantage?

They indeed who covet and desire the honours and offices in a state
for the sake of the liberty thereby given them to embezzle the public
moneys, to deal violently by their fellow-creatures, and to batten in
luxury themselves, may well be regarded as unjust and villainous
persons incapable of harmony with one another. But if a man desire to
obtain these selfsame honours in order that, being himself secure
against wrong-doing, he may be able to assist his friends in what is
right, and, raised to a high position, may essay to confer some
blessing on the land of his fathers, what is there to hinder him from
working in harmony with some other of a like spirit?

Will he, with the "beautiful and noble" at his side, be less able to
aid his friends? or will his power to benefit the community be
shortened because the flower of that community are fellow-workers in
that work? Why, even in the contests of the games it is obvious that
if it were possible for the stoutest combatants to combine against the
weakest, the chosen band would come off victors in every bout, and
would carry off all the prizes. This indeed is against the rules of
the actual arena; but in the field of politics, where the beautiful
and good hold empery, and there is nought to hinder any from combining
with whomsoever a man may choose to benefit the state, it will be a
clear gain, will it not, for any one engaged in state affairs to make
the best men his friends, whereby he will find partners and
co-operators in his aims instead of rivals and antagonists?

And this at least is obvious: The best, though few, are better worth
your benefiting than the many base. In case of foreign war a man will
need allies, but all the more if in the ranks opposed to him should
stand the flower of the enemy, the beautiful and good. Moreover, those
who are willing to fight your battles must be kindly dealt with, that
goodwill may quicken to enthusiasm; and one good man is better worth
your benefiting than a dozen knaves, since a little kindness goes a
long way with the good, but with the base the more you give them the
more they ask for.

So keep a good heart, Critobulus; only try to become good yourself,
and when you have attained, set to your hand to capture the beautiful
and good. Perhaps I may be able to give you some help in this quest,
being myself an adept in Love's lore, an authority in matters of love.
No matter who it is for whom my heart is aflame; in an instant my
whole soul is eager to leap forth. With vehemence I speed to the mark.
I, who love, demand to be loved again; this desire in me must be met
by counter desire in him; this thirst for his society by thirst
reciprocal for mine.

And these will be your needs also, I foresee, whenever you are seized
with longing to contract a friendship. Do not hide from me, therefore,
whom you would choose as a friend, since, owing to the pains I take to
please him who pleases me, I am not altogether unversed, I fancy, in
the art of catching men.

Critobulus replied: Why, these are the very lessons of instruction,
Socrates, for which I have been long athirst, and the more
particularly if this same love's lore will enable me to capture those
who are good of soul and those who are beautiful of person.

Soc. Nay, now I warn you, Critobulus, it is not within the province of
my science to make the beautiful endure him who would lay hands upon
them. And that is why men fled from Scylla, I am persuaded, because
she laid hands upon them; but the Sirens were different--they laid
hands on nobody, but sat afar off and chanted their spells in the ears
of all; and therefore, it is said, all men endured to listen, and were
charmed.

Cri. I promise I will not lay violent hands on any; therefore, if you
have any good device for winning friends, instruct your pupil.

Soc. And if there is to be no laying on of the hands, there must be no
application either of the lips; is it agreed?

Cri. No, nor application of the lips to any one--not beautiful.

Soc. See now! you cannot open your mouth without some luckless
utterence. Beauty suffers no such liberty, however eagerly the ugly
may invite it, making believe some quality of soul must rank them with
the beautiful.

Cri. Be of good cheer then; let the compact stand thus: "Kisses for
the beautiful, and for the good a rain of kisses." So now teach us the
art of catching friends.

Soc. Well then, when you wish to win some one's affection, you will
allow me to lodge information against you to the effect that you
admire him and desire to be his friend?

Cri. Lodge the indictment, with all my heart. I never heard of any one
who hated his admirers.

Soc. And if I add to the indictment the further charge that through
your admiration you are kindly disposed towards him, you will not feel
I am taking away your character?

Cri. Why, no; for myself I know a kindly feeling springs up in my
heart towards any one whom I conceive to be kindly disposed to me.

Soc. All this I shall feel empowered to say about you to those whose
friendship you seek, and I can promise further help; only there is a
comprehensive "if" to be considered: if you will further authorise me
to say that you are devoted to your friends; that nothing gives you so
much joy as a good friend; that you pride yourself no less on the fine
deeds of those you love than on your own; and on their good things
equally with your own; that you never weary of plotting and planning
to procure them a rich harvest of the same; and lastly, that you have
discovered a man's virtue is to excel his friends in kindness and his
foes in hostility. If I am authorised thus to report of you, I think
you will find me a serviceable fellow-hunter in the quest of friends,
which is the conquest of the good.

Cri. Why this appeal to me?--as if you had not free permission to say
exactly what you like about me.

Soc. No; that I deny, on the authority of Aspasia. [daughter of
philosopher Axiochus] I have it from her own lips. "Good matchmakers,"
she said to me, "were clever hands at cementing alliances between
people, provided the good qualities they vouched for were truthfully
reported; but when it came to their telling lies, for her part she
could not compliment them. Their poor deluded dupes ended by hating
each other and the go-betweens as well." Now I myself am so fully
persuaded of the truth of this that I feel it is not in my power to
say aught in your praise which I cannot say with truth.

Cri. Really, Socrates, you are a wonderfully good friend to me--in so
far as I have any merit which will entitle me to win a friend, you
will lend me a helping hand, it seems; otherwise you would rather not
forge any petty fiction for my benefit.

Soc. But tell me, how shall I assist you best, think you? By praising
you falsely or by persuading you to try to be a good man? Or if it is
not plain to you thus, look at the matter by the light of some
examples. I wish to introduce you to a ship owner, or to make him your
friend: I begin by singing your praises to him falsely thus, "You will
find him a good pilot"; he catches at the phrase, and entrusts his
ship to you, who have no notion of guiding a vessel. What can you
expect but to make shipwreck of the craft and yourself together?

Or suppose by similar false assertions I can persuade the state at
large to entrust her destinies to you--"a man with a fine genius for
command," I say, "a practiced lawyer," "a politician born," and so
forth. The odds are, the state and you may come to grief through you.
Or to take an instance from everyday life. By my falsehoods I persuade
some private person to entrust his affairs to you as "a really careful
and business-like person with a head for economy." When put to the
test would not your administration prove ruinous, and the figure you
cut ridiculous? No, my dear friend, there is but one road, the
shortest, safest, best, and it is simply this: In whatsoever you
desire to be deemed good, endeavour to be good. For of all the virtues
namable among men, consider, and you will find there is not one but
may be increased by learning and practice. For my part then,
Critobulus, these are the principles on which we ought to go a-
hunting; but if you take a different view, I am all attention, please
instruct me.

Then Critobulus: Nay, Socrates, I should be ashamed to gainsay what
you have said; if I did, it would neither be a noble statement nor a
true.

--
John Taylor

badijet@gmail.com