Dr. Seuss and Philosophy - Jacob M. Held [98]
What might get in reason’s way in this regard? Well, human beings are not all reason. We have all sorts of inclinations that can pull us against reason, the better part of our inevitably mixed nature. Of course, we don’t know for sure why the Grinch hated Christmas so much and why he so badly wanted to spoil the happy occasion for Who-ville. Maybe he envied their good cheer and fellowship. Maybe he saw all this fuss about Christmas as a pathetic, hypocritical farce begging to be exposed for what it truly was. Maybe he just never liked the Whos and simply wanted to hurt them for his own satisfaction. We can’t say for sure, and to be honest, Kant wasn’t all that confident about being able to plumb the depths of the human heart with any degree of certainty in this sense. As a matter of fact, Kant thought that the roads to perdition were many and varied, and they all passed through the darkness of our often-insidious desires and inclinations: We can want and feel all sorts of things that divert us from the moral law, and like a veritable slave to our own desires, we can give into them, thereby forsaking the higher moral law for the dictates of its lesser. Kant thought we could only be truly free when reason ruled us, when we obeyed the law of our higher rational nature.
If you think about real life for a moment, you may be tempted to say that Kant’s presumable picture of moral change, some sudden rational apprehension of the moral law and a resulting correction to align oneself with that law, usually isn’t very effective when it comes to stopping bad guys from mistreating others. After all, when the desperados knock down your door and break your glasses, all your plaintive (or self-righteous) cries of “But don’t you see how wrong it is for you to treat me like this?” usually come to naught. Yet, maybe this undeniable fact of life simply reinforces Kant’s vital point: When we are in the grip of such powerful desires and feelings (like the bad guys), they can hijack reason and keep us from seeing the world clearly. In this light, maybe a Kantian conception of a metanoia shouldn’t be judged by its relative infrequency or lack of potency. After all, it can be really hard to achieve clarity when it comes to all sorts of instances of theoretical reasoning, so why shouldn’t we expect the same with respect to practical reasoning? We can so easily be blinded by mad passion of one sort or another.
What would a Kantian explanation of the Grinch’s change of heart look like? It could actually take more than one form. Or more precisely, there could be two elements to the moment of clarity and the resulting change of heart. For instance, the Grinch could suddenly come to see that the moral law actually commands him to live differently than he’s been living to date. In this case, he might think all along that he was actually living an upright life, and in a moment of reflection or spontaneous clarity, he might come to see that he wasn’t living true to his rational principles. In other words, he might somehow believe that he was doing the right thing by taking away the cheap and tawdry trappings of Christmas, and in a moment of crystal-clear vision, he might suddenly see that the moral law forbids such things. He might realize that he is actually disrespecting the Whos by stealing Christmas.
Then again, instead of realizing what the law commands in this specific instance, the Grinch might suddenly realize that he has allowed himself to be hijacked systematically by his wayward inclinations, not just episodically. Ultimately, an autonomous being isn’t ruled by his desires, but rather, by the moral law that manifests his true dignity. In light of this realization, the Grinch might resolve anew to set himself aright by following the commands of the law.
Notice that these two elements, one being an instance of poor judgment and the other a matter of inadequate oversight, might also go