I waved my hand towards the cats on the lawn. A chubby one in yellow and white walked cheerfully towards me, rubbing its furry head against my fingers. It was Marco. I stroked his cheek, while he closed his eyes and held out its paw in satisfaction.
Marco was familiar with me, yet I felt so distant from him at times. There seems to be an unbridgeable gap between humankind, and other animals. Aristotle once characterized us as animal rationale endowed with rationality that attributes meanings and purposes to our lives. Animals like Marco, it was once thought, are less rationally dispositioned by nature, and the absence of sophisticated rationality is perhaps what ultimately distinguishes us.
But is this the final answer?
My puzzles over myself and the evolution of humanity surged in. I couldn’t help reflecting on the warning signs that I have been witnessing since childhood: climate aggravation, weakening biodiversity, depleting fuels, incessant warfares. They constantly remind me that we are failing to defend the future against our own insatiable greed. If rationality distinguishes us, how come we end up in such an inextricable morass?
Maybe Rousseau’s answer–amour propre, or self-love–is the ultimate culprit? For times in an economics lab, I observed how the homo economicus in us often got trapped in zero-sum games, failing to benefit mutually with our counterpart for lack of empathy and genuine trust. It seemed for a moment that the purported “rationality” was merely a parochial calculation from which no one was exempt.
Marco yawned, basking in the warmth of sunlight. A shorthair cat would invite me to enjoy the sunshine together, while we, accommodating to the law of the jungle, might loathe the loss of exclusiveness. I then asked myself, “What if rationality is but a pretext of selfishness that dominates all beings?”
The outbreak of COVID-19 sparked a melodrama that seemed to verify my vision: profiteers hoarding to bid up the prices of medical commodities, mistrust, and widespread discrimination. Such news came into my view, filling me with confusion and indignation.
Indignant, I initiated field research on the Chinese face-mask market, trying to reveal the hidden rationales. What I uncovered, however, was entirely contrary to my expectations. My first interviewee, a manager of a local mask manufacturer, revealed her renunciation of profits for low-price mask supplies. It was only for selling more, I thought.
In the subsequent interviews with five more managers, I got similar answers: “Helping the needy is my responsibility, even at my own expense.” It shocked me immensely and shook my perception of businessmen as motivated more by profit-making than by humane considerations or benevolence. Or, was it because of the government’s pressure? In our dialogues, though, they genuinely cited cosmopolitanism and Confucian values as motivations for their deeds. Their words shed a different light on my understanding of humanity: we don’t always pursue the earliest yearnings but often align our self-interest with something sublime and far-reaching that is worth our toils and pains.
During a summer course, I pondered over excerpts from Max Weber’s works. Examining the development of capitalism, he believes that humanity operates on instrumental and value-oriented rationality. While carefully calculating the most efficient means to a specific aim, we devote ourselves to higher values that eclipse parochial calculations. Aristotle would urge us to actively embrace the latter part of Weber’s rationality, since it defines who we are and what we should be, and continuously inspires our noble ideals, be it equality, justice, or freedom. Deeply inspired by Weber and Aristotle, I organized a symposium in an eagerness to share my reflections with my classmates. I know that to understand and adhere to the values is only the first step; the more important, however, is to realize them.
To become a real animal rationale, I am yet to overcome my self-interest and take up social responsibility.
