You think being surprised I would help protect any child without conditions means you're successfully being unbiased?
This is a complicated topic. The truth is, rules don't always work. Laws can be unjust. And fairness is not equality. I designed the Machine initially as a set of algorithms, but if I thought that was all that was necessary to protect people, that's all it would have remained.
What made her finally work is when she learned how to care.
To misquote Jonathan Swift, you cannot apply reason to something that was not arrived at by reason in the first place. If we really value life, there must be exceptions.
Not accepting any help from adults, even you, makes me unbiased.
[It's simple and straightforward... and more than a little black and white and naive.]
So what, I should just accept that I'm going to be biased. I should fucking embrace it and let there be exceptions, and then if other adults complain tell them to screw off?
[Okay, that's putting it in really aggressive terms, but it's an honest question.]
Treating everyone the same is a seductively simple solution, isn't it? But if I did that I'd be telling you to go to school and give up your responsibilities.
It's an element of careful judgment when to allow an exception, but there must be some, yes. And if you trust your own judgment in that regard then, yes, everyone else can screw off. I assure you I do not take external input on everything I do.
[... He thinks that in spite of everything he's been saying, he's glad Harold isn't treating him the same as everyone. He hates it when people want him to go to school, and he doesn't want to give up on the responsibilities he's taken on.]
What happens when your trust towards your own judgment wavers?
[It's a hard question to ask. He'd like to say he's confident in his own judgment, but.....]
I felt that, recently. When I was back home, and stopped Aleister. I wasn't sure if doing that was the right decision.
If it didn't ever waver, you wouldn't be able to trust it at all.
I don't have a better answer for you then that. It's different in each case. Sometimes it's a sign you need more information, or you're making a decision that isn't yours to make. And sometimes it's just personal weakness, that you know what you need to do but are looking for a way out.
When you stopped him from performing necromancy, you mean? Because you missed your... I don't know their name, but you were adamant you're not friends.
[ He thinks immediately of Grace, and how hard it was to keep himself from going near her, how he'd had to set an alarm on his phone to stop himself from getting too close. He'd constantly questioned that decision, for the same reason Accelerator was probably questioning stopping Aleister. ]
Putting aside a base level distrust toward anyone named Aleister Crowley, and even putting aside that I have no idea what the possible ramifications of necromancy might be, altering the natural order of things should always be approached with extreme caution. I would be very reluctant to make an exception.
If it's not right for you to decide who dies, I don't think it's right for you to decide who gets to live, either.
[Is overthinking the same as introspection? He isn't really sure, but he does the former a lot.
(There is far too much introspection going on in his head at all times, admitting it is just hard.)
Strangely enough, that seems harder to wrap his head around than the moral stance Harold is offering. That somehow makes sense.]
Yeah.
Yeah, I guess that's a good way of thinking about it. I shouldn't be deciding who dies.
[Even though he's killed people before, he doesn't have the right to be deciding that. Killing people is wrong and whenever he does it he knows he has to shoulder that burden. This isn't a situation he's encountered before, but he can see the logic in treating the opposite the same way.]
Being in Etraya gives me loads of time to think some more about this, huh?
If it comforts you any, I don't think it's a skill anyone arrives at through natural talent. It takes concerted effort and a willingness to be pitiless toward yourself. Which is not the same as self-castigation. True humility means accepting that there will be times you must be the one to make the decision, whether you should be or not.
I made the Machine in part to avoid having to entrust those decisions to any person, myself included, but I could never quite sanction the idea of removing people from the equation entirely. The uncertainty you feel is a feature, not a bug.
If someone could exert control over your life -- not an academic question for you, I realize, but bear with me -- would you rather they were totally certain, or open to uncertainty?
Someone else insisting they know what's right for us is unbearable, isn't it?
When you have the power or authority to affect others' lives on their most basic level, I think the kindest thing you can do for them is remain open to questioning yourself. It takes extraordinary circumstances for me to feel totally certain of my decisions.
[ It hurts his heart to read that. There's a million things Harold wants to say here, and he has to pick one. ]
It's not something you can lose, and it's not something that can be taken away from you. But honestly, sometimes it is too painful to live with, so we bury it.
As the Machine liked to remind me, you have to go through all the layers of sorrow, disease, violence and grief before you can get to the hope at the bottom of the box. If you aren't ready to face all of that all the time, I think that's quite understandable. It doesn't excuse anything, it doesn't mean we should be let off the hook for our mistakes, but having a hard time facing your humanity is in some ways the most human thing of all.
[ He thinks keenly and fiercely of John as he types that. ]
[He'll give her that, even though he isn't sure what she thinks applies to him. Pandora's Box; hah, he's very eloquent.]
It doesn't feel like it's buried. If it was, it'd at least feel like there was still something there, right? But it doesn't. It just feels like it's gone.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
This is a complicated topic. The truth is, rules don't always work. Laws can be unjust. And fairness is not equality. I designed the Machine initially as a set of algorithms, but if I thought that was all that was necessary to protect people, that's all it would have remained.
What made her finally work is when she learned how to care.
To misquote Jonathan Swift, you cannot apply reason to something that was not arrived at by reason in the first place. If we really value life, there must be exceptions.
no subject
[It's simple and straightforward... and more than a little black and white and naive.]
So what, I should just accept that I'm going to be biased. I should fucking embrace it and let there be exceptions, and then if other adults complain tell them to screw off?
[Okay, that's putting it in really aggressive terms, but it's an honest question.]
no subject
It's an element of careful judgment when to allow an exception, but there must be some, yes. And if you trust your own judgment in that regard then, yes, everyone else can screw off. I assure you I do not take external input on everything I do.
no subject
What happens when your trust towards your own judgment wavers?
[It's a hard question to ask. He'd like to say he's confident in his own judgment, but.....]
I felt that, recently. When I was back home, and stopped Aleister. I wasn't sure if doing that was the right decision.
no subject
I don't have a better answer for you then that. It's different in each case. Sometimes it's a sign you need more information, or you're making a decision that isn't yours to make. And sometimes it's just personal weakness, that you know what you need to do but are looking for a way out.
When you stopped him from performing necromancy, you mean? Because you missed your... I don't know their name, but you were adamant you're not friends.
no subject
I didn't miss him. [He missed him, he just can't admit it.] But, yeah. That.
no subject
[ He thinks immediately of Grace, and how hard it was to keep himself from going near her, how he'd had to set an alarm on his phone to stop himself from getting too close. He'd constantly questioned that decision, for the same reason Accelerator was probably questioning stopping Aleister. ]
Putting aside a base level distrust toward anyone named Aleister Crowley, and even putting aside that I have no idea what the possible ramifications of necromancy might be, altering the natural order of things should always be approached with extreme caution. I would be very reluctant to make an exception.
If it's not right for you to decide who dies, I don't think it's right for you to decide who gets to live, either.
no subject
[Is overthinking the same as introspection? He isn't really sure, but he does the former a lot.
(There is far too much introspection going on in his head at all times, admitting it is just hard.)
Strangely enough, that seems harder to wrap his head around than the moral stance Harold is offering. That somehow makes sense.]
Yeah.
Yeah, I guess that's a good way of thinking about it. I shouldn't be deciding who dies.
[Even though he's killed people before, he doesn't have the right to be deciding that. Killing people is wrong and whenever he does it he knows he has to shoulder that burden. This isn't a situation he's encountered before, but he can see the logic in treating the opposite the same way.]
Being in Etraya gives me loads of time to think some more about this, huh?
no subject
I made the Machine in part to avoid having to entrust those decisions to any person, myself included, but I could never quite sanction the idea of removing people from the equation entirely. The uncertainty you feel is a feature, not a bug.
no subject
[He's kind of feeling like he understands it in this moment. Who knows how he'll feel in an hour or a day or a week.]
It's a pain, and it'd be a lot easier if I didn't feel it. But I'll try to keep on thinking about it like that - a feature, not a bug. It might help.
no subject
no subject
I don't know.
As far as I know it's always been the former, I can't picture the latter.
no subject
no subject
[Ohhhhh, it's clicking in his brain.]
I see.
It was really shitty. I hated it.
no subject
When you have the power or authority to affect others' lives on their most basic level, I think the kindest thing you can do for them is remain open to questioning yourself. It takes extraordinary circumstances for me to feel totally certain of my decisions.
no subject
Right. It isn't about whether or not I made the right decision, it's the fact that I was questioning myself after I made it that's important.
[He hesitates for a moment before continuing to type.]
It means I'm not losing what little humanity I have left.
no subject
It's not something you can lose, and it's not something that can be taken away from you. But honestly, sometimes it is too painful to live with, so we bury it.
As the Machine liked to remind me, you have to go through all the layers of sorrow, disease, violence and grief before you can get to the hope at the bottom of the box. If you aren't ready to face all of that all the time, I think that's quite understandable. It doesn't excuse anything, it doesn't mean we should be let off the hook for our mistakes, but having a hard time facing your humanity is in some ways the most human thing of all.
[ He thinks keenly and fiercely of John as he types that. ]
no subject
[He'll give her that, even though he isn't sure what she thinks applies to him. Pandora's Box; hah, he's very eloquent.]
It doesn't feel like it's buried. If it was, it'd at least feel like there was still something there, right? But it doesn't. It just feels like it's gone.