I think I broke my sense of morality a long time ago. Possibly when I was still a child. And I’ve been trying somewhat to artificially re-construct it for a while. I have some of the vague reasoning mapped out, for why what everyone else seems to believe is actually reasonable and valid. But that doesn’t mean I actually feel it. At least, not most of the time. A lot of the time, I want to do the worst things imaginable. Like they seem incredibly appealing. Beautiful, even. Essential. Life-affirming. How could something be evil, when it feels so good?
For a long time I’ve assumed that a large part of the social condemnation of such things was about denial – people who deep down felt the same, but found that too terrifying to ever examine it honestly. So they loudly denounce others, to externalise their discomfort.
While I still think that applies to some degree, the more unsettling thought is that their normal socialisation means they really feel that way. Whereas me, withdrawing & isolating myself for so much of my childhood, resenting my peers and perceiving them as hostile, was never sufficiently indoctrinated into common morality. I responded to the cruelties inflicted on me by assuming that such moral sense was worthless. If it could allow me to be spat upon & kicked at random with no redress, I could do without it.
In doing so, I allowed myself to question everything, untethered by social obligation. To do & think things I knew society would condemn. I assumed I was better. I was above their petty morality. Nothing I wanted could ever be wrong.
The scary part about doing that is that you make yourself utterly alone, psychologically & morally. I don’t feel all the things everyone else seems to. I don’t have the normal compunctions or inhibitions. And I don’t think that’s something I can change now. Like I said, I broke my socialisation during a key developmental phase. I don’t think I can reason my way into the outrage, the moral disgust that everyone else feels about people like me. I can understand it, rationally. But I can’t feel it. I can’t be part of the psychological community, the tribe. I can pretend, but that’s all any relationship I form is. A pretence. Pretending I’m normal and morally sane and not everything that scares and repulses you.
Which is why I feel so alone. I’m in a tribe of one. The only people who can relate are those who’re similarly twisted. And no solidarity or viable community is possible between us. That’s kind of the point – when you step outside the bounds of social morality, you cast off the things needed for a community to function. There’s no trust – we’re as much a threat to each other as we are to society.
I’ve done this to myself. And I don’t think I can undo it. I can’t repent the things I’ve honestly thought and felt, that I still deeply feel. I’ve stepped outside conventional morality, looked past it. I can’t believe it’s narrative in the same way, though I can still mimic its customs.
I’ve isolated myself psychologically, and it’s miserable, and I can’t undo it. So it would probably be better if I ceased to exist. If I were put out of my misery, like a rabid dog. But death terrifies me. So it’s a choice between misery and that fear. And I guess I’ll keep choosing misery until something scarier comes along to force my hand.
2 comments
I’m a little confused at the outset. You say you broke your sense of morality, but you still have the concept of evil. Also, presuming a lot that you want to do the worst things imagineable. I collect horrible happenings. Not by choice, it just seems to keep happening. Then I have intrusive thoughts about doing some awful stuff too, I find it awful.
That’s the thing about morality, it’s objective. I live in a conservative Christian society. In that society I’m a real scumbag. I’m shocked mothers aren’t hiding their kids, because I’m a dirty communist scumbag by local standards. I hang out with immigrants, criminals, members of the LGBTQ community and other disreputable sorts like disabled people and the elderly.
That’s not the only moral system there is though. I’m not even saying that I entirely buy into the packaged image of the hippy social worker I present. Which is why I don’t buy anyone else’s image. It’s all marketing. We all have to stamp our ticket, get our checks signed.
When I was younger I was such a moral crusader, I thought that there was such a thing as absolute truth, and good and evil. Then life happened and now I’m cynical even about that. Now I think there’s just what one person can grab. Everyone is a pirate to a greater or lesser extent. What matters is whether you get caught.
All criminals are is really really stupid pirates. There are unpicked goods ready to be stolen…. but IS it stealing if it’s hoarded wealth by idiots who think hoarding wealth will make them better people?
Stealing from people who will miss it is the crime, like harming people who other people like is what really ruffles the feathers.
So WHO is it that you have harmed?
Being an isolated weirdo just makes you that, that’s not necessarily immoral.
I just can’t tell how much of this immorality is in your head. You’re the first case I’ve seen of someone desiring so strongly to be punished. Most people will do anything to avoid.
Maybe it’s just the culture I’m soaked in, where everyone is far sicker than they are willing to admit. That makes it really weird to have someone say they are sicker than anyone can ever say….. geez it’s all we talk about where I’m at.
It’s hard to explain. When I say “evil”, I’m trying to relate to how it’s perceived externally. I can still understand that perspective. I just don’t fully feel it anymore, at least not most of the time. I can rationally assess that the things I’ve done and the things I want to do are what most people consider “evil”, and it’s not that I think they’re wrong about that. I just don’t feel the same sense of moral disgust most of the time.
See, for me, I mostly don’t find the thoughts of the stuff I want to do awful, at least not in the moment. For me it’s appealing, beautiful even. What I find awful is the realisation that this separates me from society and everyone around me.
Don’t want to divert to a tangent on ethics, but I think on one hand there’s “moral sense”, which is somewhat subjective/bound to the norms of particular societies. And if you’re psychologically healthy, then you get more or less indoctrinated into those norms. You take them on, to the extent you don’t even question them, and you feel them deeply.
On the other hand, there’s the actual impact of your actions on others, the harms etc. Which I would say is more objective, though which impacts you care about is still going to be culturally conditioned somewhat.
There are certain moral norms that unite both conservative Christians and hippy progressives, as loath as both sides would be to admit that during the current culture war. Suffice to say, all would consider me evil. This is reinforced to me on a daily basis. No matter which side of the political spectrum you sit on, everyone despises me. I don’t have a dog in that fight. My own personal politics lean left on some issues, right on others. But I have no real tribal affiliation to either, because no one is on “my side”.
I think your cynicism is exaggerated. Self-interested behaviour operates on a lower level than society as a whole. There are things that the vast majority of people just won’t do, because they’ve internalised the norm that “you just don’t do that kind of thing.” Norms can shift over time, and that may even lead to social breakdown. But even within a state of anarchy, there’s probably some norms most people won’t break. Though I suppose it depends how bad things get.
“Harm” is complicated. I would say there are those who I’ve unquestionably “wronged”, though they’re unlikely to ever realise it or be impacted by it. Then there are those whose deep suffering I’m indirectly complicit in. So it’s hard to say. What percentage of that suffering do I take responsibility for, if it would’ve happened regardless?
Being an isolated weirdo didn’t automatically make me immoral. But being so at a young age allowed me to separate myself from common morality, which then allowed me to do things considered immoral by all. And that’s not in my head. There’s pretty much universal agreement that the things I’ve done, and which occupy my mind, are reprehensible.
It’s not exactly that I want to be punished. It’s that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. And a part of me can see how I deserve it. The part that’s been trying to tap back in to that sense of common morality. I can see why others feel that way. I don’t think they’re wrong to hate me. I can regret the suffering involved, even if I didn’t cause it directly. But just not enough to really repent. Because it still feels good.
There’s an ambivalence there that’s very hard to explain. I suppose it’s that on the one hand something feels essential, beautiful, and enticing. But rationally I know that no good will come of pursuing it further.