In the eighteenth century, pirates under the command of William Kidd entered the city of Philadelphia. They were drunk and rowdy. They were also extremely amorous, having spent some time at sea without female companionship. You might think that finding a brothel wouldn’t be a problem in a port city. As it turned out, this wasn’t where Captain Kidd’s pirates went to look for love. Instead, they turned their attentions to the luckless, god-fearing women of Philadelphia who happened to cross their paths. Wives, mothers, and daughters were assaulted by the foul-smelling hooligans. Fortunately, many were saved by their men folk, who grabbed their muskets or raised their fists. Those women suffered no more than a grope, an unsavory suggestion, or a stolen kiss.
Sadly, many women who could have been saved were not because the men in their lives refused to help. Even as many women were being raped and beaten, even as they cried for help, their husbands, fathers, and brothers stood mute. These men, you see, were committed to lives of pacifism. And these pacifists of Philadelphia meekly accepted the brutality of the pirates. Although they surely must have been distraught, their opposition to violence of any kind prevailed. Moreover, they had chosen a manner of living that respected everyone’s rights absolutely. To their minds, it would have been immoral to interfere with the freewill of the pirates.
The problem, of course, was that these Philadelphia pacifists were living by a code that made no sense except in the small community where they lived. The only way it could work would be if the pirates had also been pacifists. By failing to protect their women from being raped, those pacifists unintentionally served as their women’s pimps.
Depending on one’s point of view, the pirate raid of Philadelphia would be remembered variously in the years that followed: as a night of idealism, as a night of foolishness, and as a night of terror. By philosophers, the pirate raid is remembered as a night when the “moral sphere” demonstrated its limits. Let’s think for a moment of our morals as a transparent bubble. We stand inside of this bubble, trying to see everything around us equally. As we look about, we strive to develop an openness of mind beyond our own limited points of view. We hope to understand how others perceive so that we can know what is good and what is right. Yet even though we might try to see everything around us, we cannot see everything at once. Although we might remember the point of view from behind us, we might choose to face in the opposite direction. And so it is when we choose a side of an argument, or stand up to a tyrannical leader, or defend our spouse against an assault. We deliberately take a stand in our moral sphere. Failing to do so would be cowardice or indifference or foolishness.
Being familiar with one’s moral sphere and how to operate within it in a time of crisis is essential to those journeying toward wisdom. If we continue to imagine this sphere as a transparent bubble, we can also imagine its fragility. Those who haven’t learned to roll around obstacles will find themselves with a punctured sphere. Those who stand still in the face of sword-brandishing pirates might even find their sphere punctured, and impossible to repair.
DISCUSSION QUESTION
Those pacifists in Philadelphia who allowed their women to be raped and beaten by pirates have become textbook examples of how dogmatic, inflexible thinking can lead to foolishness. However, some might argue that it would have been wrong for them to react with violence. Were they wise to behave as they did?
Sadly, many women who could have been saved were not because the men in their lives refused to help. Even as many women were being raped and beaten, even as they cried for help, their husbands, fathers, and brothers stood mute. These men, you see, were committed to lives of pacifism. And these pacifists of Philadelphia meekly accepted the brutality of the pirates. Although they surely must have been distraught, their opposition to violence of any kind prevailed. Moreover, they had chosen a manner of living that respected everyone’s rights absolutely. To their minds, it would have been immoral to interfere with the freewill of the pirates.
The problem, of course, was that these Philadelphia pacifists were living by a code that made no sense except in the small community where they lived. The only way it could work would be if the pirates had also been pacifists. By failing to protect their women from being raped, those pacifists unintentionally served as their women’s pimps.
Depending on one’s point of view, the pirate raid of Philadelphia would be remembered variously in the years that followed: as a night of idealism, as a night of foolishness, and as a night of terror. By philosophers, the pirate raid is remembered as a night when the “moral sphere” demonstrated its limits. Let’s think for a moment of our morals as a transparent bubble. We stand inside of this bubble, trying to see everything around us equally. As we look about, we strive to develop an openness of mind beyond our own limited points of view. We hope to understand how others perceive so that we can know what is good and what is right. Yet even though we might try to see everything around us, we cannot see everything at once. Although we might remember the point of view from behind us, we might choose to face in the opposite direction. And so it is when we choose a side of an argument, or stand up to a tyrannical leader, or defend our spouse against an assault. We deliberately take a stand in our moral sphere. Failing to do so would be cowardice or indifference or foolishness.
Being familiar with one’s moral sphere and how to operate within it in a time of crisis is essential to those journeying toward wisdom. If we continue to imagine this sphere as a transparent bubble, we can also imagine its fragility. Those who haven’t learned to roll around obstacles will find themselves with a punctured sphere. Those who stand still in the face of sword-brandishing pirates might even find their sphere punctured, and impossible to repair.
DISCUSSION QUESTION
Those pacifists in Philadelphia who allowed their women to be raped and beaten by pirates have become textbook examples of how dogmatic, inflexible thinking can lead to foolishness. However, some might argue that it would have been wrong for them to react with violence. Were they wise to behave as they did?
