Around five years ago, I went to a protest, sadly my only protest in life. It was a protest against CAA and NRC. I went there half knowing what it was, but I had an inkling it was morally wrong. Though nothing tangible came out of that protest, it set me on a path of supporting other causes I believe to be morally just. Over the past five years, without taking to the streets again, I’ve found myself drawn to other causes— George Floyd's murder and Black Lives Matter, COVID oxygen mismanagement in India, the Hathras Rape Case, Ukraine's invasion by Russia—the list goes on. As I have continued to form opinions and take a stance, a long-standing question that’s always scratched the back of my mind is: why does this all matter? Why do I value being on the right side? And if I were to take it to an extreme, is there really a right side?
Ruminating on morality feels cyclical. Moral philosophy as a field of research has gone on for centuries, from Aristotle to Kant to Nietzsche to the random dude who bumps into it after one beer too many. I’m sure generation after generation runs into this because our definitions of what counts as "mostly right" keep changing with social norms. Killing in the name of honor used to be cool; now it’s not. Drinking, falling in love with the same gender, smoking, weed—the list goes on. It’s this changing landscape of rules that makes morality both fascinating and yet so hard to answer1.
At the same time, I am aware that for a huge part of the world, this line of questioning is a moot point. Much of the world still relies on religion as a moral compass—sometimes for good, sometimes as a means to a convenient end, and sometimes just to push through the mundanity of life. Kadavul pathuparu, you know2. Even if you were to consider religion as moral guidebook, no moral system, religious or otherwise, is without its contradictions.
I’m far from being religiously pious, and I don't claim to have the philosophical depth to arrive at a definitive conclusion on the moral questions that trouble me. So, I often turn to popular culture in search of answers—though, ironically, pop culture tends to raise even more questions. My Brilliant Friend, The Holdovers, Drive My Car—all recent shows and movies with complex characters that only add to the confusion. And when it doesn’t, like in the case of 12th Fail, it often feels off the mark. And since I am always consuming some form of pop culture the nagging questions at the back of my mind only seem to intensify.3
Recently, though, I came across an interesting article4 that added another layer to my perspectives on this—this time through the lens of Evolutionary Theory. The author refers to established scientific research in Evolutionary Theory, showing that our morals have been shaped by evolutionary pressures. That is to say, over the years, we’ve evolved and created morals to do the right thing for selfish reasons. If we take this at face value, that just makes our morals “fake.” And this whole drive to do the right thing becomes nothing but a social dance for status, trust, etc. This is demoralizing. But the author continues, pointing out that the evolutionary findings don't make those evolved morals untrue. The fact that we care might be due to some evolved wiring in our brains. But the choices we make about caring, loving, and trusting are done for their own sake.
At least that makes me despair a little less. This idea goes all the way back to Aristotle, who famously said that virtue is its own reward. Or rather, more precisely, what we call a virtuous act is that which actually brings about our happiness5. There might be no absolute moral truths, and it might all boil down to the social norms of the day. But the act of cooking breakfast for your partner, giving up your seat for an elderly person, or speaking up for the voiceless—things that can be seen as selfish, if we boil it down to first principles—are still very much self-fulfilling after all.6
Brothers Karamazov by Dosteovsky, with the brothers representing different moral perspectives is still such a fascinating read for a reason.
Once in a while I do indulge in you-need-to-leave-your-brain-at-home movies. It's a good break tbh.
I must also add that it is not that people who do morally right are not some some ivy league elites of humanity. To quote Christoper Hitchens from one of my favorite books- Letters to a Young Contrarian.
This depressing discovery need not blind us to the true moral, which is that everybody can do something good, and that the role of dissident is not, and should not be, a claim of membership in a communion of saints. In other words, the more fallible the mammal, the truer the example. This sometimes cheers me up.