The Castle

My house is my castle, and, living in it alone, I have the privilege of posting a No Solicitors sign on the door and filtering phone calls. Every minute that I am at home is spoken for with something I need or want to do. Despite this, I am very social and arrange to get together or Zoom with friends and colleagues all the time. But whether alone or with someone one, I want the time to be uninterrupted. This is why I first fell in love with emailing, since it allows the best of both worlds: the continual opportunity for communication, which is my lifeblood (thus, even when I am alone writing my essays and books, I think of myself as writing for someone), and the complete control over when I engage in it. 

But more recently I have discovered the joy of text messaging, which enables even more communication because it tends to be briefer and hence less of an interruption even if engaged in, while still offering the option of a delayed reply. So my working day is pleasantly peppered with pings when someone texts me, reminding me that in my life of solitude I am not alone. I also love to text others when I am out and about and want to share an experience in real time. It is also a very convenient way to get quick answers when arranging things. 

The reason I am writing this little post is to use texting as a paradigmatic example of how moralism functions. For even though my account has highlighted how texting enhances pleasure and flexibility, I notice that it also engenders expectations. And expectations tend to have a dual nature as both anticipatory and demanding. Thus if an expectation is not met, it may lead not only to disappointment but also to censure. “Why did this person not immediately reply to my text?” That question could be an expression of curiosity or of condemnation (in which case it is a so-called rhetorical question). 

I don’t imagine every reader will identify with the double responses I have admitted to. But that is how my psyche works, and I think it perfectly exemplifies the scourge of moralism. As such it reveals various aspects of “being moral” that make me dislike it. First, it betrays a double standard; for, as I have mentioned, part of the beauty of texting for me is precisely that it gives me the option not to reply at once (or even at all); and yet I automatically disapprove of others when they fail to reply at once or in due time. More broadly I am always way behind the times when adopting a new technology that my friends keep urging me to use; but the moment I do see the benefits and use it myself, I lose all patience with others who still don’t. (Note: Some innovations I even refuse to take up ever, such as TV and social media.) Second, it exposes my egoism, for I am assessing another person’s behavior, and even the person themself, solely on the basis of whatever I happen to want at the time. In effect: “Give me what I want or you’re bad!” 

I have no trouble confessing my flaws, dear Reader. For me it is a joy simply to discover things, for better or worse.

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