Honor and Dueling
13 years ago
Pluck up, folks. I was about to write another journal about money, but I changed my mind!
One of the fixtures of the 18th and 19th centuries, particularly in entertainment, is the idea of the duel.
Dueling is a very curious and fairly unique thing. In previous centuries, differences between individuals of high station were generally settled by proxy- through the employment of tournament champions, assassins, armies or all of the above, and the concept of honor was often considered hereditary. In modern times, difficult conflict between individuals are generally settled through arbitration or litigation, law backed by the threat of force. These days, where it exists, honor is simply a part of overall ethics and conduct and not generally upheld as an independent entity as it once was.
Duels were the product of the time, and the reason I think they became so popular in the 18th and 19th centuries was because of the gradual deterioration of hereditary honor and values. It was no longer really practical to say that one's breeding or heritage gave them an automatic moral or intellectual advantage over others, though there are plenty of times when this argument is made. The most common and popular guardian of honor, blood, was losing its power and had to be replaced by something else.
Thus, honor, or the very concept of it, became the property of the individual. How does one become honorable? Through morality, conduct, education, and a certain degree of cultivated arrogance, an individual could distinguish themselves as a cut above that greatest enemy of honor: Common-ness.
It's somewhat telling, and earnest, actually. People who once thought themselves better than the common folk now faced the dreadful notion of becoming them. It's not that different from our modern obsession with the Zombie Apocalypse, the idea that we might, at any moment, become one of THEM... and lose our identity as sovereign individuals.
Thus, scholars, nobles, politicians, industrialists, and just about anyone with a bit of social responsibility set about cultivating a sense of honor. Men especially got up in a lather about this... mainly because women of the time were regrettably a kind of underclass. Honor was something built through a lifetime of connections, education, and conservative use of one's tongue. It could easily be tarnished or smashed by another person disparaging them in the press or spreading rumors around in high society. Imagine that your whole career is predicated on your being 'honorable', when all of a sudden some guy accuses you of sleeping with his wife! The nerve!
So, we have a dilemma. Honor is a fragile and mostly artificial thing, easily pierced by a sharp tongue. How do we prevent this from happening?
We have a duel.
There's a good reason why duelists often speak of how 'honor must be satisfied'. The whole construction of the duel, the whole purpose, is to test the nerve of the two opponents and, when dialogue fails, solve the conflict with a moment or a few moments of violence. The objective of the duel, contrary to popular belief, is not to actually kill one of the disputants and leave honor with the last man standing. Rather, the objective of the duel is to prove just how far the disputants are willing to go to defend the concept of personal honor.
This is part of why duels were primarily fought with one of two types of weapons: Swords or Pistols. Swords are somewhat understandable a choice- they are costly weapons mainly accessible to the wealthy- the kinds of people who fight duels. They are also good dueling weapons for another reason: One can end the duel by drawing blood, and drawing blood with a sword can be done in a non-lethal way. Thus, two guys can agree to cut each other up a little, satisfy their honor, and carry home the scars to prove it.
Pistols are a more curious choice in a duel, but at the same time a practical one. For example, not everyone who wants to duel knows how to wield a sword! Just about anyone, however, can operate a pistol. Another reason pistols were preferred was that they weren't precision weapons by any means. It was plausible, and very common, for duelists to fire pistols at each other at 10 paces and miss each other completely. You might soil your trousers, but there's a good chance you'll escape the duel with your life. On the other hand, the risk of injury and death is very real- a duel with pistols requires quite a bit of bravery. It's a game of chance, rather than skill. Unfortunately, a person struck by a pistol shot is much more likely to die than a person pricked or cut by a sword.
What is the end result of a duel? It can go a number of ways, but it kind of plays out like classic brinksmanship. The ideal outcome is that neither disputant dies or suffers serious injury, allowing the disagreement to be laid to rest, even if it means 'agreeing to disagree'. What also tended to occur, however, was that duels tended to get bloody and continue even after blood was drawn, bringing definitive punishment to one disputant and definitive victory to the other. After all, everyone wants to win, and win big. By taking greater risks and embracing the instinct to 'punish' the other, duelists sometimes put themselves at such risk that both parties suffered injury or died.
The real problem with dueling, and one of the fundamental reasons it had to be done away with, was that it was predicated on the belief that calculated, regulated violence could solve intellectual, moral, or financial disagreements. The very nature of the duel tantalizes people with the ideal of gallant victory for themselves and death or ignominious defeat for the other. The problem is, an act of violence does not actually solve grievances, not even among people who consider themselves noble, moral, or superior. In many cases, disputants would leave the duel with honor satisfied, but their grievances unresolved and dissatisfied. In many cases, the 'winner' still lost- his reputation would remain tarnished, his intellectual standpoint sabotaged. Think of what happened to Aaron Burr's political career after he slew Alexander Hamilton in one of history's most famous duels, as an example.
Yet there is a romantic, almost delightful magnetism to the mechanism of the duel. Keeping its realities out of the picture for the moment, there is appeal in the kind of bravery required to wager one's life in a situation where the prospects of victory were often quite shaky or uncertain. The reason that duels continued long after they were outlawed is because, regardless of the outcome, the victor/survivor of a duel could pretty definitively be called brave. Bravery might not necessarily be equivalent to honor, but so many of our narratives consider them brethren that great value continues to be placed on individuals willing to risk their lives and futures in individual combat. While we are often reminded that such people are not always the greatest role models, the allure, the romance, the perfume of this concept still appeals to us. This obsession with gambling and playing the odds is ancient, human, and unlikely to disappear anytime soon.
So for those of you who believe that honor is dead, don't worry. By the end of this reading, you will have arrived at either of two conclusions: That honor is an artificial construct that never really existed, or that the concept of honor is constantly reshaping and forming in society, yet still orbits around this concept of personal risk and bravery.
One of the fixtures of the 18th and 19th centuries, particularly in entertainment, is the idea of the duel.
Dueling is a very curious and fairly unique thing. In previous centuries, differences between individuals of high station were generally settled by proxy- through the employment of tournament champions, assassins, armies or all of the above, and the concept of honor was often considered hereditary. In modern times, difficult conflict between individuals are generally settled through arbitration or litigation, law backed by the threat of force. These days, where it exists, honor is simply a part of overall ethics and conduct and not generally upheld as an independent entity as it once was.
Duels were the product of the time, and the reason I think they became so popular in the 18th and 19th centuries was because of the gradual deterioration of hereditary honor and values. It was no longer really practical to say that one's breeding or heritage gave them an automatic moral or intellectual advantage over others, though there are plenty of times when this argument is made. The most common and popular guardian of honor, blood, was losing its power and had to be replaced by something else.
Thus, honor, or the very concept of it, became the property of the individual. How does one become honorable? Through morality, conduct, education, and a certain degree of cultivated arrogance, an individual could distinguish themselves as a cut above that greatest enemy of honor: Common-ness.
It's somewhat telling, and earnest, actually. People who once thought themselves better than the common folk now faced the dreadful notion of becoming them. It's not that different from our modern obsession with the Zombie Apocalypse, the idea that we might, at any moment, become one of THEM... and lose our identity as sovereign individuals.
Thus, scholars, nobles, politicians, industrialists, and just about anyone with a bit of social responsibility set about cultivating a sense of honor. Men especially got up in a lather about this... mainly because women of the time were regrettably a kind of underclass. Honor was something built through a lifetime of connections, education, and conservative use of one's tongue. It could easily be tarnished or smashed by another person disparaging them in the press or spreading rumors around in high society. Imagine that your whole career is predicated on your being 'honorable', when all of a sudden some guy accuses you of sleeping with his wife! The nerve!
So, we have a dilemma. Honor is a fragile and mostly artificial thing, easily pierced by a sharp tongue. How do we prevent this from happening?
We have a duel.
There's a good reason why duelists often speak of how 'honor must be satisfied'. The whole construction of the duel, the whole purpose, is to test the nerve of the two opponents and, when dialogue fails, solve the conflict with a moment or a few moments of violence. The objective of the duel, contrary to popular belief, is not to actually kill one of the disputants and leave honor with the last man standing. Rather, the objective of the duel is to prove just how far the disputants are willing to go to defend the concept of personal honor.
This is part of why duels were primarily fought with one of two types of weapons: Swords or Pistols. Swords are somewhat understandable a choice- they are costly weapons mainly accessible to the wealthy- the kinds of people who fight duels. They are also good dueling weapons for another reason: One can end the duel by drawing blood, and drawing blood with a sword can be done in a non-lethal way. Thus, two guys can agree to cut each other up a little, satisfy their honor, and carry home the scars to prove it.
Pistols are a more curious choice in a duel, but at the same time a practical one. For example, not everyone who wants to duel knows how to wield a sword! Just about anyone, however, can operate a pistol. Another reason pistols were preferred was that they weren't precision weapons by any means. It was plausible, and very common, for duelists to fire pistols at each other at 10 paces and miss each other completely. You might soil your trousers, but there's a good chance you'll escape the duel with your life. On the other hand, the risk of injury and death is very real- a duel with pistols requires quite a bit of bravery. It's a game of chance, rather than skill. Unfortunately, a person struck by a pistol shot is much more likely to die than a person pricked or cut by a sword.
What is the end result of a duel? It can go a number of ways, but it kind of plays out like classic brinksmanship. The ideal outcome is that neither disputant dies or suffers serious injury, allowing the disagreement to be laid to rest, even if it means 'agreeing to disagree'. What also tended to occur, however, was that duels tended to get bloody and continue even after blood was drawn, bringing definitive punishment to one disputant and definitive victory to the other. After all, everyone wants to win, and win big. By taking greater risks and embracing the instinct to 'punish' the other, duelists sometimes put themselves at such risk that both parties suffered injury or died.
The real problem with dueling, and one of the fundamental reasons it had to be done away with, was that it was predicated on the belief that calculated, regulated violence could solve intellectual, moral, or financial disagreements. The very nature of the duel tantalizes people with the ideal of gallant victory for themselves and death or ignominious defeat for the other. The problem is, an act of violence does not actually solve grievances, not even among people who consider themselves noble, moral, or superior. In many cases, disputants would leave the duel with honor satisfied, but their grievances unresolved and dissatisfied. In many cases, the 'winner' still lost- his reputation would remain tarnished, his intellectual standpoint sabotaged. Think of what happened to Aaron Burr's political career after he slew Alexander Hamilton in one of history's most famous duels, as an example.
Yet there is a romantic, almost delightful magnetism to the mechanism of the duel. Keeping its realities out of the picture for the moment, there is appeal in the kind of bravery required to wager one's life in a situation where the prospects of victory were often quite shaky or uncertain. The reason that duels continued long after they were outlawed is because, regardless of the outcome, the victor/survivor of a duel could pretty definitively be called brave. Bravery might not necessarily be equivalent to honor, but so many of our narratives consider them brethren that great value continues to be placed on individuals willing to risk their lives and futures in individual combat. While we are often reminded that such people are not always the greatest role models, the allure, the romance, the perfume of this concept still appeals to us. This obsession with gambling and playing the odds is ancient, human, and unlikely to disappear anytime soon.
So for those of you who believe that honor is dead, don't worry. By the end of this reading, you will have arrived at either of two conclusions: That honor is an artificial construct that never really existed, or that the concept of honor is constantly reshaping and forming in society, yet still orbits around this concept of personal risk and bravery.
And WRT honour revolving around personal risk and bravery - I would argue (keeping in mid the above) that honour is a subset of bravery. In order to have honour, you must have the conviction to uphold it. A person who wilts under fear cannot be said to be honourable, at least when that honour is directly challenged.
And by directly challenged I don’t necessarily mean by someone who wants to duel them. If it's entirely possible for a person to continue being honourable without the duel existing then they are not at pains of losing their honour if they refuse.
But meh. Consenting adults should be able to do whatever they want with each other for whatever reason they want. Bring back the duel, I say.
I'm not necessarily sure I agree with that. I can think of honorable people who are not very brave and brave people who are not very honorable. Again, I think we as a society have connected these two concepts and called them part of the same thing, even though they're actually separate parts.
If bravery and honor are part of a single category, I suppose that category would be morality.
Now my question to you is this: How does a violent action, limited by rules and regulation, solve a moral quandary? Does stabbing another person or shooting them add to or subtract from your moral fortitude? Does a violent ritual solve problems?
A duel resolves matters where monetary compensation can't, where it's impossible for money to make you whole. It is moral to provide compensation, but sometimes something like honor is so intangible, blood is the only thing seen as serving for compensation.
We probably would return to dueling, but most of the democrats would end up dead at the hands of republicans. The idea of a "deadly insult" has been long dead.
No, I say hand grenades at 10 paces.
And it takes bravery, make no mistake. I can think of several republican legislators who have been alienated by their party, cut off from resources, and even forced to not seek reelection simply because they took a stand against legislation they were supposed to support in order to stay in the clubhouse. The brutal reality of Congress is that it's a hotheaded place ruled by a majority that does not allocate time or care for the minority view. If you want to get to the root of political division in America, look to the current structure and practice in Congress. Perhaps what we actually need is a fair number of third party representatives in order to prevent these big power blocs from muscling everyone out.
A well-armed person who stands in favor of the status quo is, in my opinion, less brave than an unarmed person who stands against it. This is the one thing that troubles me about much of the republican approach and ideology- the notion that might makes right... cause it's wrong. It feels great to have the numbers necessary to impose your will on others, and it feels great to have a gun in your hands, to have the legacy of power behind that simple machine, but in the end it doesn't make you more honorable or brave to wave the guns and throw your weight of numbers against minority views as they arise.
Maintaining a course of action where power is upheld and abused invariably places a party on a collision course with something of equal or greater size, either other political bullies or, just as likely, coalitions of minority factions banded together by hatred and fear.
You could hold a gun on every democrat in the Senate or House, and you could say "Look at you quiver! What do you mean you don't want to die? Where's your honor?", but would that make you braver or more honorable as a result? No, it just makes you a guy with a gun.
That's why the system of dueling had to go. People realized that dueling was a form of exclusion-- exclusion of the poor and common, exclusion of the defeated, exclusion of those that valued life over honor. If you exclude these viewpoints long enough, you'd do best to read up on history and see what happens next. The 'little guy' doesn't always win, but they damn sure fight!
I don't think it's the left not being attracted to honor, as people who aren't attracted to honor are attracted to the left. This is the party of the Chicago political machine, Alinsky, ACORN etc. after all. A lot of people believe in the principles of the left, but it attracts people who seek power, because of how much socialist policies concentrate power, and most of those have few scruples.
I'm not going to let the left off the hook. I think that the right, at least historically, has had a better approach to economic policy while the left has kept us somewhat anchored in national and international responsibility. Neither one is very pretty in the extreme, but both are necessary. Thus, you'll never hear me arguing for the destruction of one or the other, or by that right the total supremacy of one or the other.
i will have to thank you for giving some intellectual points in a site such as this....
*CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP* >W<
Then again, I get the feeling that Jackson rather liked duels especially cause he was good at them. You'll notice that the defenders of the institution of dueling are the ones that are more likely to win a duel than others by virtue of experience and cool under fire. Even so, dueling was once considered an essential part of statecraft-- as you pointed out, it made people think before slandering others. People held their tongues cause they didn't want to get dragged into mortal combat.
If dueling has a role in the modern day, I think it is to establish bravery... Yet we already have a good mechanism for this that doesn't require people to die. It's called a game. I'm not just talking about computer games, either- a panoply of games exist that can suit the play style of just about any disputants, and if a display of bravery and personal fortitude is what's required, then the game can be chosen on those grounds. No one needs to suffer injury or death to prove that they conduct themselves more honorably or bravely than another- the game itself produces a victor, and in the process reveals the styles of the players for all to judge.
Dueling in the old way is predicated on the idea that both duelists value their lives equally, but will react to the threat differently. If duelists don't value their lives, or if one values it and the other does not, it kind of muddies things up a bit.
I can see how that would be an unfair advantage. If something truthful and career harming was said, he could just challenge and force his point. Then again, the proof would still be out there. No smoke without a fire? It would bring more public attention to the subject. Allowing everyone to form their own opinions on the issue.
Some games can do that. But they also show less favorable traits in people. Some of which make the game easier to win. While some people choose to hold onto an honorable play style, more choose to give it up in order to get ahead.
Oddly, the 18th and 19th centuries in Western Europe represent some of the most incredibly drunken times of any people in the world. Part of it was that alcoholic drinks were safer to drink than water. Another was that at least some people received part of their wages in booze. A lack of alternative entertainment also drove people to drink, and often. Pre-prohibition America does offer at least a little hint of how drunk folks used to be-- there was once a saloon or other drinking establishment for every 100 persons in the country.
I also recommend reading, though I have some beefs with it, the essay The Most Toxic Value System In The World, which points out some of the major shortcomings of the cultural flows that tend to produce and encourage duels of honor.
It's like the Brits were pulling their playbook from the Soviets.