Standards of objective justice are not unknown to humankind, even under capitalism (though also a little apart from it). In the extremely brutal sport known as boxing, such standards prevail, ironically enough –when they do not prevail nearly as much under the auspices of liberalistic relativism.
In boxing, for instance, it would be scandalous if the two opponents were not relatively well matched. You do not have flyweights fighting with heavyweights. The amount of experience both boxers have ought to be comparative in order to make the fight worthwhile. If levels of experience are vastly different, then there must be some other compensatory factor — like youth and greater reach — that can serve to equalise the odds. This is all on the principle of supplying decent entertainment — a mercenary value in itself, but nonetheless one that has been harness nobler values to its ends.
Yet in the world of supposedly more genteel consumerism, it is every man and his dog for himself. The moral relativism that this engenders is extremely violent. It is 111 times more violent than boxing or than anything previously imagined. Boxing, with its rules and regulations, with its referees, and with the possibility of throwing in the towel, is nothing compared to the violence of capitalism and its moral relativisms.
There is no escape from capitalism, and it pits the weakest and least-trained individuals against gigantic and hardened pros. There is no sense of the injustice of this, that this fight and its outcomes were rigged from the start and that the only entertainment this provides is to those very craven and very bloodthirsty to begin with. And yet those attuned to the norms of market consumerism are inclined to criticise the “brutality” of boxing?
Those of a liberal capitalist persuasion have no right to criticise anyone else’s brutality without first understanding a little more (than they do) about themselves.
In boxing, for instance, it would be scandalous if the two opponents were not relatively well matched. You do not have flyweights fighting with heavyweights. The amount of experience both boxers have ought to be comparative in order to make the fight worthwhile. If levels of experience are vastly different, then there must be some other compensatory factor — like youth and greater reach — that can serve to equalise the odds. This is all on the principle of supplying decent entertainment — a mercenary value in itself, but nonetheless one that has been harness nobler values to its ends.
Yet in the world of supposedly more genteel consumerism, it is every man and his dog for himself. The moral relativism that this engenders is extremely violent. It is 111 times more violent than boxing or than anything previously imagined. Boxing, with its rules and regulations, with its referees, and with the possibility of throwing in the towel, is nothing compared to the violence of capitalism and its moral relativisms.
There is no escape from capitalism, and it pits the weakest and least-trained individuals against gigantic and hardened pros. There is no sense of the injustice of this, that this fight and its outcomes were rigged from the start and that the only entertainment this provides is to those very craven and very bloodthirsty to begin with. And yet those attuned to the norms of market consumerism are inclined to criticise the “brutality” of boxing?
Those of a liberal capitalist persuasion have no right to criticise anyone else’s brutality without first understanding a little more (than they do) about themselves.
