Se7en

Seven (movie) poster.jpg

Seven (or Se7en) is a movie that is extremely difficult to talk about. The entire movie begins with little characterization, background history, or even a developed story line. Yet, as the movie continues, the viewer suddenly finds it all coming together for an excellent depiction of the stupidity of life.

The movie has two main characters: Morgan Freeman, an experienced detective who is gloomy and “depressed” about reality, and Brad Pitt, who is a pompous new detective who thinks he can crack every case and yell at any superior he wants to. The story kicks into full gear with a murder of a man who must weigh at least 700 pounds, with the word “gluttony” written on the wall in blood. The movie cannot be defined as a detective genre, however; there is very little investigation into this particular movie. Rather, the story continues with a few more murders of the different deadly sins (such as gluttony) and focuses on the various character’s dialogue with each other.

Brad Pitt is overly emotional, has what Ender would call “hot anger”, and doesn’t listen to anyone. This comes to bite him in the back in so many different ways, highlighting the problem of excessive passion. Meanwhile Morgan Freeman appears so dispassionate that he really has no friends, despite having the largest concern for humanity through a rational outlook. This personal emotion vs. rational compassion juxtaposition is one of many fascinating themes.

The use of camera angles and music was equally incredible. The cinematography is absolutely excellent and adds to the incredible drama of the movie. There was a great contrast between lighter scenes and darker scenes, each time with some sort of meaning or the other. The setting was simple and only showed a few houses and locations, which added to the the theme of constant routine: waking up each day at the same time to the same world for the same purpose…living for the next day.

The central premise of the movie, however, is the stupidity of life. In the movie, seven murders are committed, all under the coordination of a single murderer. Each murder is for one of the deadly sins – gluttony, sloth, envy, etc. – and arguably each person deserved it. At the same time, almost all of the police force and general public is apathetic to the deaths, besides a superficial curiosity in what happened. People are horribly lame in the movie – and Morgan Freeman is delighted to tell us. Shockingly, the murderer is equally delighted to tell us. The murderer is extremely rational, well thought, well read, educated, the whole nine yards. He calculated his murders and has developed arguments to justify each one, while expressing little personal emotion but rational compassion for humanity. And as the movie shows, Brad Pitt, being so personally emotional leads to downfall. Rational compassion leads to victory.

Overall, the movie is a fantastic thriller and horribly depressing. It poses questions and demonstrates scenarios, but does not provide answers. If you expect to watch a movie that will make you a more wise person, this is the one. If you expect to watch a movie to enjoy it, I do not recommend. This movie mixes fear, depression, and gloominess altogether for a masterful insight into human sociology when it comes to morality.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Altruism…is it real?

Concerning altruism, there are many perspectives on whether or not we can be purely altruistic. There are many stances we could take, and many lenses we could look through. Let’s see what they are, what they signify, and why they are misleading.

An evolutionary lens, for example, would suggest that our genes encourage altruism so that we get things in return, so that we reproduce. In other words, organisms can be, while the roots of it, in our genes, are selfish. That is the view of Dr. Richard Dawkins, hence the book title The Selfish Gene. Dawkin’s argument is fairly satisfying in the scientific community.

We could also take a more philosophical lens, in that to treat others selflessly we’d have to be happy doing it, right? Should someone want to save another person’s life, and attempts to do so, they satisfied their desire, thus being selfish in the end.  This at first may seem to be irrefutable, it did to me at least for a number of years. But there are counter arguments: someone may not think about the fact that they want to be altruistic. After all, impulsiveness is a given in the human condition. However, if we are altruistic impulsively, would that still be considered altruism? That is another question that is debated.

What we know from egoism is that we are only altruistic to get altruism back. This is similar to the evolutionary view, except on the scope of organisms along with individual genes. This, perhaps, is too pessimistic. Certainly, could holding the door open for a stranger be an act of kindness done solely in the hopes that one day the stranger will see you, and will open the door for you? It simply doesn’t make sense. Additionally, such a thinking process wouldn’t be all that logical, considering someone who thought this way would probably have to be. Statistically, not everyone could possibly have a net “gain” in altruism, there would always be winners and losers, if you will. And certainly, the nice people don’t always win.

Perhaps a more psychological approach, one less dealing with evolution. Studies, such as one I found in The Atlantic Monthly, show that newborns begin life with some sense of selflessness. It is interesting to support arguments like these with evidence from the psychology of newborns, I’ll write soon on the lack of self awareness in babies and it’s significance in the study of artificial intelligence. The fact that newborns are surprised by the lack of sharing in a movie, and that most do willingly share is astonishing, and it does support half of the evolutionary perspective.

I think that much of the debate comes from the lack of a proper definition of altruism. Philosophers, psychologists, and economists alike (yes, economists play a role) only spend time on studying how altruism works, without actually defining the word. Perhaps we can see it’s dictionary definition, and then dissect it:

Merriam Webster defines altruism as “unselfish regard for or devotion to the welfare of others.”

Unselfish is defined as: “having or showing more concern for other people than for yourself.”

Concern, in the context, means: “a feeling of being interested in and caring about a person or thing.”

In other words, altruism is being more interested and devoted to the welfare of others than to yourself. But that still isn’t very clear, and that’s where philosophers, psychologists, and economists need to step up. Should we take the philosophical view that altruism is only impulsive, we must decide if it can still be altruistic. After all, “it’s possible that babies are more likely to be altruistic than older people, because they think less about it” (from The Atlantic Monthly article). However, this could be like saying I did a good deed even though I didn’t know it was a good deed.

Should we take the egoist perspective, as economists unfortunately do, we must assume that humans act “altruistically” out of self interest. Although the traditional arguments of egoism don’t stand, one might say that people act for the welfare of others solely to satisfy some sort of “sense duty” they have,  according to this literary magazine. Alternatively, one might also argue people act benevolently to satisfy some sort of deity or obey inherent natural laws (heaven or hell, karma, etc). That is another possibility. But once again, could one still be altruistic while maintaining a shed of selfishness, as long as that selfishness is the very thing leading to the altruism?  And if we all act out of this inherent self-interest, maybe there is no such thing as self-interest at all.

These are serious issues with debating altruism, and we can’t move forward in this debate until we agree on the questions I posed. Otherwise, we’re simply beating around the bush and arguing over different things without realizing it.