A Trade, but for What?

The following is a guest post from Daniel Vera, PhD. Dr. Vera holds the PhD in mathematics from MIT and is a senior analyst at a private investment firm in Newport Beach. He moonlights as a CS Lewis scholar, and has focused extensively on the topic of ethics in finance in his private research. We are grateful to have him at the Existential Cosmopolite.

     As I was nearing the end of a laborious and tedious Friday, filled with the usual drudgery associated with any office job, I came across a curious article on Reuters.  My interests became piqued as I found, instead of the usual dry financial pieces I read for work, this article was attempting something more than an interpretation or forecast of current economic events.  

The article, auspiciously titled “Ethics angle missing in financial crisis debate”  (article may be read here: http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6231H320100) seemed to be aiming at something slightly philosophical, yet leaning away from purely academic and asking a fair pragmatic question.  What is “right and wrong” in the modern economy? The article appeared to
accept the universal aphorism that right and wrong does exist and that people want to be treated a certain way and would be in the right if they extended that to others in attitudes and actions. Simple enough.

Additionally, it should be no stretch to acknowledge a certain uniformity and common acceptance of what right and wrong constitute. Morality is objective.  The interested modern reader who may take issue with this is invited to explore the appendix of C.S. Lewis’ “The
Abolition of Man” where Mr. Lewis summarizes the “different” moral codes of various cultures of antiquity.  It is quite striking how similar, in fact nearly identical, these moral codes are. Indeed, as Mr. Lewis and others have pointed out, it would be quite hard to find a culture where thieves, cowards, and murderers were celebrated, and honest, brave, and compassionate individuals were condemned.

     The complexity, if there is any complexity, seems to arise when we try to apply the Natural Law to the edifice of the world economy. Somehow, people sense that in recent years, somewhere in the entire process of efficiently allocating resources and capital, some have
cheated, and thus, the rest of us have somehow been cheated. Whether or not this is the case and why the situation is as it is escapes a concise summary.  What does immediately raise questions is the last half of the article.  A Citizen’s Ethics Network has been launched in London to raise awareness of the need for clear ethics in finance and addressing the wide concerns that morality and ethics have largely been diluted (or outright ignored) in modern finance.

      “Contributors to a pamphlet outlining the Network's arguments saw the decline of religion leaving a moral vacuum in many western societies. ‘A terror of old-fashioned moralize [sic] has driven all talk of morality out of the public sphere,’ philosopher Alan de Botton wrote.  The
market-driven consumer society, with its focus on satisfying and even creating individual desires, has also broken down the community ties and trust that helped people in the past to also consider the common good, others wrote.”

      The organizers of the Network had various religious leaders contribute to the discourse but wished to emphasize that they did not “want to bring back religion nor return to any supposed other ‘golden age’. One of the founders, Adam Lent went further, stating that "The problem
is that nothing new has replaced them [religion or other “outdated" secular protocols used to provide a moral compass, such as trade unions and politics].” Lent said. "The time is ripe to start developing new perspectives."  Herein lies the beginning of several questions.

      Mr. Lent and company have insightfully identified the “decline in religion” as a contributor to a decline in morality and ethics in finance.  Since religion has so often been the most powerful voice about morality, a decline in religion would presumably see a concurrent decline in morality.  Political organizations, such as trade unions, are as temporal as politics itself, but the underlying
foundation of morality remains throughout various systematic changes in history. Thus it seems we have religious thought providing a basis of morality and the decline in religion causing a decline in morality. Mr. Lent has identified the problem. I am confused by the next step he takes as he goes on to say “the problem is nothing new has replaced them [religion or politics based on a moral foundation from religion]” and we should “develop new perspectives.” How can we use a system and identify the problem as being a lack of something that system provides
only to request that we scrap that system and come up with something new?  How would the new system provide what the old one did?  If I concede that a new system can be developed that serves as a conduit for the Natural Law, how can I distinguish that system from religion, or a politic based on some vague impotent form of religion?  Have I not somehow wandered away from the core issue?  Regardless of one’s spiritual beliefs, there is a sense that something is not fair with our current economic set up.  

The problem is not solved by another set up; socialism (or any other economic structure) cannot “solve” moral problems in capitalism anymore than it can solve moral problems in socialism. The problem has been identified. In industrialized countries, we have been clever enough to allocate capital so efficiently, that we are now little gods, able to summon nearly anything to satiate nearly any appetite and slake nearly any thirst. As our own gods, we no longer need the gods (or God) of our fathers, and yet, it seems we still attempt to use the morality preached by their messengers to identify a problem with what we have created. How then can we reconcile these two things?  How do we impose the Natural Law on another, or agree to live in fairness, if we have replaced what brought us the Natural Law in the first place with Starbucks, Amazon, and Apple, and collateralized debt obligations?

The Breast-plate of St. Patrick

The year is 433. The shoreline slowly materializes off the ship’s bow, emerging from a grey, cloudy shroud of fog. Verdant green bedecks craggy rocks where the Vantry River empties itself into the sea. Already a group of druids stands on the land to meet them with swords. St. Patrick and his companions are turned away, sent elsewhere to find entry into Ireland, a wild land of sorcery and violence, a land Patrick had escaped from a few years earlier. At sixteen he had been kidnapped by Irish marauders and sold into slavery for six years. During that time he worked as a shepherd, learning to speak the Celtic tongue and learning to talk to God throughout each treacherous day. Now he was returning voluntarily, charged by Pope St. Celestine I with carrying the message of Christ's redemptive power to the Irish people. Many dangers would ensue, culminating in a wizard's duel that, according to the details recorded in church history, would make Harry Potter seem relatively pallid. St. Patrick's victory through Christ over the demonic magic of Arch-Druid Lochru and his fellows resulted in the allowance of Christianity's message being proclaimed, and that message seems to have proved more compelling than that of the pagan druid's. What followed, according to tradition, was the composition by St. Patrick of one of my all-time favorite prayers, The Breast-plate of St. Patrick:

I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the

Trinity, through belief in the Threeness, through confession

of the Oneness of the Creator of creation.

I arise today through the strength of Christ with His Baptism,

through the strength of His Crucifixion with His Burial

through the strength of His Resurrection with His Ascension,

through the strength of His descent for the Judgment of Doom.

I arise today through the strength of the love of Cherubim

in obedience of Angels, in the service of the Archangels,

in hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

in prayers of Patriarchs, in predictions of Prophets,

in preachings of Apostles, in faiths of Confessors,

in innocence of Holy Virgins, in deeds of righteous men.

I arise today, through the strength of Heaven:

light of Sun, brilliance of Moon, splendour of Fire,

speed of Lightning, swiftness of Wind, depth of Sea,

stability of Earth, firmness of Rock.

I arise today, through God's strength to pilot me:

God's might to uphold me, God's wisdom to guide me,

God's eye to look before me, God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me, God's hand to guard me,

God's way to lie before me, God's shield to protect me,

God's host to secure me:

against snares of devils, against temptations of vices,

against inclinations of nature, against everyone who

shall wish me ill, afar and anear, alone and in a crowd.

I summon today all these powers between me (and these evils):

against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose

my body and my soul,

against incantations of false prophets,

against black laws of heathenry,

against false laws of heretics, against craft of idolatry,

against spells of women [any witch] and smiths and wizards,

against every knowledge that endangers man's body and soul.

Christ to protect me today

against poison, against burning, against drowning,

against wounding, so that there may come abundance of reward.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me,

Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right,

Christ on my left, Christ in breadth, Christ in length,

Christ in height, Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,

Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the

Trinity, through belief in the Threeness, through confession of the

Oneness of the Creator of creation.

Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of the Lord.

Salvation is of Christ. May Thy Salvation, O Lord, be ever with us.

Ora et Labora

Several years have passed since the Second Great War. A Viennese woman, an artist, visits Dr. Frankl. Her life is unraveling before her eyes. She suffers from an enduring “lack of contact with life.”* She has come to experience her life as a fraud. On her therapy intake form she writes, “My painting (the only activity I really am interested in) scares me stiff- like any other deep experience! As soon as I want something very much, it goes wrong. Whatever I love I destroy— every time. I no longer dare love anything. The next time this destruction takes place I’ll really hang myself.”

A discussion of personal freedom ensues. Dr. Frankl explains that it is typical for people in the woman’s condition to believe they are doomed to old results, that they lack the freedom to change because of their condition. He explains that in his experience with thousands of patients at the Rothschild Suicide Pavilion and elsewhere, this neurotic fatalism is a false belief. She is both free from and free to— free from the past and its influences, and free to “find her special, personal meaning of life in all its uniqueness.” After some discussion the woman becomes open to these insights, and therapy begins.

Dr. Frankl asks the woman about her artistic principles. She explains that she has little choice but to paint, that it is an obsession for her, one that she actually has come to fear. To this fear of her obsession the woman produces an additional complaint: “I often dream finished pictures which satisfy me in my dream but which I never am able to reproduce when I am awake.” She finds she is even unable to reconstruct certain color compositions from her dreams during waking hours. To her chagrin, she is estranged in her conscious life from her unconscious self. This severed relationship troubles her at the deepest levels. She is aware that she is unable to achieve her full self as she subsists in this alienated state.

The therapist begins his work. A modified form of systematic relaxing exercises called autogenic training (Developed by J.H. Schultz. See excellent website on the method here: http://www.guidetopsychology.com/autogen.htm) allows the woman enough space from her cycle of anxiety to begin having breakthroughs. The exercises bring her to a state where she begins to see again, a state characterized by “A feeling of great clarity. One is less conscious of oneself- but all objects are much more distinct. A feeling of freshness, as though a veil had been removed from my eyes. This is quite new. Now I am lying on the couch. Armchair, paper, basket, the shadow of the desk— everything is sharp… I am drawing…”

The woman begins remembering her dreams. The artistic compulsion flows through her automatically, a seamless admixture of her critical appraisal and conscious painting and unconscious ensuing. Days of progress turn to weeks of improvement. A relapse occurs here and there, despair returning, but the woman continues on the path. She repeats her relaxing exercises in the face of difficulty, and repeatedly encounters a space of reprieve. Weeks become months and the progress remains. And the content of her intentions? “That everything be released— that my most personal color and form experiences become conscious— and that I be able to put them on canvas.” In this way the therapy has restored her ability to work.

But the therapy is not complete. Frankl explains:

“Now that her ability to work had been restored, a second problem— so far latent in the patient— came to the surface. From this point on, logotherapy had to go beyond the stage it had reached so far; while up to this point the therapy had been something like a midwife to the artist, it now had to become the midwife to the patient’s spirit. For it now became the task of logotherapy to clarify, or perhaps to assist, our patient’s struggle with the religious problems which had developed quite spontaneously during this period. One might formulate the situation of the psychotherapy at this moment as follows: Of the well-known Benedictine motto, ora et labora, the second part had been realized, but what remained to be done was to realize the first.”

The tragedy of World War II had been a ravaging lion, swallowing up lives greedily from so many European homes. The woman’s own loss of her husband in the war had driven her to ask God for her own death in a church at that time. Since that time her faith in God has been interrupted by trauma. This begins to reveal itself in the course of therapy. A number of dreams composed of vivid imagery ensue: a dead soldier, a horse-drawn carriage departing, a wedge interrupting the appearance of a yearned-after form. Profound, deep pain infuses her report that the strange form is one “which I desperately want to be whole, but which keeps breaking into pieces.” She states that it is the death of her husband that has disturbed the wholeness of her life.

Guilt also lurks. The woman reports that in her teens she abandoned the Catholic Church at the teaching that the flesh is sinful. She converted to Protestantism as an expletive act towards authority, with the result that she ceased her prayer life. Her relationship with God has waned over the years. Additionally, she feels unworthy of the memory of her husband by her conduct since his passing, and she confesses that she has been unable to love anyone since that time, despite her need for relationship. Pain and guilt swirl around in her subconscious, blocking her conscious contact with God.

A breakthrough experiment is proposed by Dr. Frankl. The woman reports: “Tonight I will dream why I feel hostile toward Christianity— what it was that scared me away. And then I will wake up immediately and write it down.” The woman dreams thusly: She is in Waldegg (her childhood home) waiting for a train to Vienna. She wishes to visit a psychotherapist friend in town. She is told he lives near the church. She believes she will find the church, but the city appears differently from her prior experience of it. She gets lost and begins to doubt, but a little girl appears and says, “To the church? You have gone in the wrong direction. You must go back.” Her past guilt manifests in physical thirst, followed by clean water delivered in a dirty pitcher. She turns to follow the child’s direction, but poplar trees have collapsed blocking the way (symbolizing therapeutic challenges and relapses). The road opens up again, and in the distance a beautiful milky-white Cathedral stands before her. She awakens.

The woman had gone to Normandy once to visit Église St-Etienne in Caen. She had arrived at night in heavy fog and never was able to actually see the church. Frankl explains: “The appearance of the never-seen but admired cathedral in her dream signified the transformation which occurred in the patient during her analysis: a transformation of her religious experience from a God hidden by fog and darkness to a revealed God.”

The woman begins experiencing God. She dreams of an icy black abyss behind her, yet she is full of love and joy and a sense of being protected as God’s light warms her face. She dreams of being dirty after a long, difficult journey, and of rest and cleansing. At first her experiences of God are disquieting, but she gains acceptance. She writes, “It’s like a painful attack. I feel I’ll die, right then and there, but it doesn’t frighten me; on the contrary, it would be beautiful. Extremely strong, unspeakably beautiful experiences… Long hours of a state of Light, like being absorbed by God… united with God. Being at-one with all things and with God. Everything I see, I am; everything I touch, I am… On the same wavelength with all lines and colors… Contact with things… Through me all earthly existence flows toward God; I am now a piece of conducting wire.”

She struggles a bit more with these mystical experiences, until finally, acceptance. She summarizes the change: “This is my first springtime in God. Up to now I was deaf and blind. Now all things are illuminated by God… It is as if another sense had been added to the five: experiencing God, like hearing or seeing. There is no name for it. It was the therapy that led me to God. There is no longer an abyss, this being-in-God carries me and I cannot fall. Life again is wonderful, rich, and full of possibilities. When related to God, everything is bearable and filled with meaning. I think I know what I have to do: bring my daily life in order for the love of God.”

Questions for Reflection:

·         Herbert Spencer wrote: “There is principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance— that principle is contempt prior to investigation.” When considering the existence of God, the possibility or validity of mystical experiences, etc., have I been guilty of "contempt prior to investigation"?

·         What traumas in my own past have disturbed my ability to work creatively, to experience God, and to move forward from the icy abyss of loss? Do I have an adequate community around me to help me deal with these traumas?

·         What road am I currently on in life? Have a chosen a path that will help me become the full self that lies dormant within me? If not, what concrete actions can I enact to change my direction? To whom can I turn for help?

·         Am I helping others around me on their journeys, or am I simply self-concerned, vying for my own piece of the pie? Is there greater potential meaning in the world around me than I usually recognize on a daily basis?

* All quotes and story from the article “Psychotherapy, Art, and Religion,” in Frankl, V. E., Psychotherapy and Existentialism: Selected Papers on Logotherapy. 165-181. (Simon & Schuster: New York, 1967).