#ahneus

Ajatellaanpa vaikka henkilöä, joka kokee maailmankuvansa olevan globaalin ja samalla tuntee kateutta naapuriaan kohtaan, koska tällä on varaa uuteen bemariin joka vuosi, mutta itse tyytyy vaihtamaan sen joka toinen vuosi. Maailman miljoonat ja taas miljoonat slummien asukkaat tuskin voivat edes ymmärtää, mistä henkilömme on kateellinen. Kyse on tietenkin relativismista, ja esimerkkimme henkilö on ristiriitainen vain siis jos kokee olevansa yhtäkaikki maailman kuin Suomen kansalainen. Toki tietyssä mielessä hän niitäkin on, mutta ennen kuin tiedämme tämän, hänen argumenttinsa vain implikoivat ristiriitaa.

Tai tyyppi, joka iloitsee kenen tahansa tuloista. Tällaiseenkin olen törmännyt, tosin uskon,että kyseessä oli erilaiset kielipelit, eikä twiittaaja ymmärtänyt avata taustaoletuksiaan, vaan vastasi tarkentavaan kysymykseeni ”kyllä, olen iloinen ihan kenen tahansa tuloista”. Uskon, että tämä henkilö kuitenkin rajaa tässä absoluuttisen ”kuka tahansa” ilmaisun ulkopuolelle ainakin rikolliset. Itse en hyväksy ansiotonta ansiota, ollakseni samalla sekä ytimekäs että epämääräinen. Kyseessä on tietenkin jälleen kerran eettinen arvostelma, minkä hyväksymme ansioksi ja minkä emme. Eli kyse on oikeutuksesta, sekin on psykologinen arvostelma, mutta se voi olla johdonmukainen toisin kuin kateus. (Rawlsin mukaan kateus voi olla jopa rationaalista, silloin kun se juontaa aidosta alemmuudentunteesta, joka taas on seurausta jättisuurista elintasokuiluista, jotka siis hänen teorioitaan noudattamalla vältettäisiin.) Tässäkään ei ole universaalia ”oikeata” tai ”väärää”, mutta jälleen, ristiriidat ja johdonmukaisuudet voimme osoittaa koestamalla niiden perusoletuksia.

On esimerkiksi ihmisiä, jotka hyväksyvät yhteiskunnan rahoilla rikastumisen yhdessä kohtaa, mutteivät toisessa. Kyseessä on selvä erottelu epäoikeudenmukaisuudesta, oli se sitten validi tai ei, juontuvan paheksunnan ja kateuden välillä. Heidän mielestään on hyväksyttävää, että Björn Wahlroos, Jorma Ollila tai Leena Niemistö tienaavat jättiomaisuuksia systeemisillä vippaskonsteilla, veroja kiertäen ja valtion varoja kupaten, mutteivät voi suvaita sitä, että rastatukkainen lorvehtija osaa puikkelehtia samojen pykälien lomitse ja selvitä ulos muutama satku ylimääräräistä taskussaan joka kuukausi. Veronkierto veroparatiisien avulla hyväksytään, se hyväksytään joillekin jopa työnteoksi, koska toimivat lain puitteissa, muttei siis sossupummia, joka toimii yhtälailla lain puitteissa ja varmaankin joutuu yhtälailla ”tekemään töitä” etujensa saamiseksi. (Kummastakohan on yhteiskunnallisesti enemmän haittaa?) Tai päinvastoin, eli hyväksyy sen hipin, muttei verokikkailijaa, ja itse kuulun tähän jälkimmäisten ristiriitaisten ryhmään perusteeni ollessa yhä vain arvostelma – ristiriidan implikaation poistan lisäämällä “vähän voi varastaa, jos sen tekee tarpeeseensa”. Onneksi näitä systeemisyyhkyjä vastaan löytyy Suomestakin semmoisia oikeita sankareita, kuten Supercellin monimiljonäärit ja elonmuskit, heidän rikastumisestaan en jaksa millään muotoa harmistua, päinvastoin, kudos!

On ihmisiä, joiden mielestä tuloerot ovat tuiki tarpeellisia, kuten edellä mainittu Wahlroos, ja kateushan toimii peräti polttoaineena ahneudelle joka taas on riistokapitalismin* moottori. Ja on ihmisiä, kuten minä, joiden mielestä pienet tai kohtuulliset tuloerot takaavat yhteiskuntarauhan. Molemmat voivat vedota erilaisiin sosiaalisiin ja taloudellisiin tutkimuksiin, mutta tulevaisuuden ennustamisesta siinä on joka tapauksessa kysymys.

* Kapitalismin ja riistokapitalismin välille tulee tehdä selvä ero, kuten sosialismin ja virkamiessosialismin välille. On muuten hämmästyttävää, miten riistokapitalismi (pääoman diktatuuri) ja virkamiessosialismi (byrokratian diktatuuri) muistuttavat toisiaan: tiukka keskusjohtoisuus, jäykät hierarkiat, syvät tuloerot ja demokratian halveksunta.

Olla kateellinen toiselle suomalaiselle on mielestäni (ja taas Rawlsia mukaillen) sama asia kuin olla kateellinen siitä, että naapuriseurueen limusiini on metrin pidempi ja heidän samppanjansa astetta kylmempää. Toki Suomessakin on todella huono-osaisia, yhteiskunnan suojaverkon läpi pudonneita, mutta onneksemme heitä on vähän. Myös joka vuotinen ”miten ihmiset jaksavat puhua tuloeroista” ihmettely ja metakeskustelu jaksaa vetää mukaansa joukoittan ihmisiä puolesta ja vastaan – kuten minutkin tässä. Tuloeroissa ei myöskään ole mitään paheksuttavaa, sikäli mikäli yhteiskunnassa vallitsee aito ja toimiva progressiivinen verotus.

Kateus syytöksen kohdatessaan tietenkin voi pohtia, onko sitä kateellinen vai ei ja antaako sen vaikuttaa omaan argumentointiin ja maailmankuvaan - joskus sellaiset psykologiset asenteet jäävät jopa itseltä huomiotta.

MUTTA kuten kaikkien argumenttien kohdalla, myös ”kateus”-argumentin todistustaakka on esittäjällään. Tismalleen samoin kuin on laita usein kapitalisteihin kohdistuvan ”ahneus”-argumentinkin kohdalla. Jotkut ovat kateellisia, jotkut ahneita – mutteivät suinkaan kaikki. Hetken niitä tarkasteltuamme huomaamme kuinka heikoilla kantimilla kyseiset argumentit, vaikkakin kuinka mahdollisia ja tosipohjaisia, ovat ja kuinka vaikeita ne ovat verifioitaviksi. Köyhäkin voi olla ahne ja rikas kateellinen.

I've written about the moments after my death, but I’ve never mentioned my death itself. When you die the way I did you don't feel it. I was put to sleep before the procedure, and there I was thinking I’d see some blinding light or hear a voice calling me. Instead I opened my eyes and I was still sitting on the operating table. I thought I'd survived, until I looked down and saw I was cut open and filled with black holes where my organs should have been. My liver and heart were both gone, that's all they needed to take out for me to die. I figured it out the situation relatively soon.

I was dead, and looking down at my not yet completely dead body. Connected to the human world. I saw Franz still lying beside me on his own table while the surgeons rushed to get the organs into him. I'd never been happier. Watching his vitals even out, seeing mine fail, was all I wanted. I didn't know a heart could be so full of joy once it had stopped beating.

  Right, I should explain a bit further. You see, my son Franz was very ill for years. When he was born we didn’t think he was going to survive. Luckily there were enough organ donors when he was about eight to keep him alive after one terrifying incident, but as he reached young adulthood it had to be done again. This time, with so little money left after paying the expenses, my wife and I were preparing for the worst. Now, knowing me, you’d think I’m insane. I’m just charitable. Always have been, always will be. I’m not a virtue for just any reason. That’s why I gave up my own life to save his. He needed kidneys, a liver, tubes and valves everywhere. I was happy to supply those. When the procedure was done the surgeons acted like they didn't know what to do with me. I find it sad. That no one else would give their life for someone in that way.

I was pronounced dead at 4:17pm, but in reality I died at around 3:48pm. At least, that’s when I went into the more “spiritual” state of being. Once I did, my nerve activity had not yet died down and my heart was still beating once every few seconds. It was just some leftover energy floating around. They waited ten minutes with no feedback to make any announcements. Rigor mortis set in, I saw the skin of my face turning pale. By two days later it was much worse. Once Franz was in recovery they told my wife that I was indeed gone. Because of the circumstances they decided to pay for some of the costs of keeping Franz in the hospital. I left him and my wife all of the money and belongings I owned. Through the whole process, from me announcing my decision to the last time I saw the world through living eyes, my wife was torn between emotions. She went from bitter to heartbroken in a matter of seconds. Don’t get me wrong, I felt sympathy for her. My family is everything to me. I didn’t leave her behind because Franz was more important or I wanted to leave her to do all the work, I did it because it was the right thing to do. And it's not as if she suddenly found my dead body sprawled on the floor. This wasn't a suicide, it was a mission.

Once my son was completely recovered, at home and well rested enough to move about, I was still wandering helplessly. I ended up trying to keep my human lifestyle, sitting down with the two of them for dinner, lying in bed pretending to sleep, those types of things. Franz would ask to visit me every day. My wife would bring him to the cemetery. He and I would talk, but I couldn't help but cry when I remembered he had no idea I was there, standing right in front of him. He would point up to heaven, thanking me and calling me a saint. “I'm no saint”, I’d say to his naïve, innocent face. “I'm your father.”

Weeks after my passing I finally made it to heaven. I didn't know what was happening at all. It was after Franz went home one day and I stayed at my grave, staring down at the dirt where my body lay. I guess God, or whatever is really in control of us all, decided I was ready to move on. I blacked out and woke up elsewhere, somewhere definitely very bright and full of celestial beings. Or maybe I was so caught up with Franz I didn't notice myself fading away and reappearing amongst others like me. My memories are hazy on that part. It’s not like ascension is totally painless and free. You don’t exactly sprout wings and fly into the clouds. It’s having your being transferred into a completely different plane. Thus the reason you don’t fly in an airplane and see people standing up on the clouds. I’m thankful for that. Imagine standing around and suddenly a giant piece of metal is defying gravity beneath your feet

               Anyway.

               We all already know I’m a virtue. The virtue of charity. I have an opposite, I have this position until I die, then who knows what happens after that. A second plane of heaven? It doesn’t matter. I’ll still never see Franz again. But I’m content knowing he’s safe, he lived a longer, happier life, and even without me I know he got along just fine. I’ll never know when he passes on. No one’s allowed to see virtues. Security reasons. But I’m happy. I know they’re both safe. They’re both happy too. They’re alive and well. I’m fine just knowing that.

               Who am I kidding?

               I’m not happy at all. Sure, he was able to live, but my wife hated me for it. She wouldn’t even let me say goodbye. Here I am, sitting within these white walls, crying myself to sleep once in a while after decades of expressing no emotion whatsoever. Sometimes I wonder if I’m really in heaven, if this isn’t just some illusion that hell’s conjured up to mess with my head. How can anyone expect me to go through life – this huge lie – without eventually breaking? Surely I’m not the only one suffering like this, especially if your virtue is what caused your death. I saved a life by sacrificing myself and this is how I’m repaid? There are six other people up here who may be going through the same thing. Even the good virtue of diligence must feel this way. He dies saving people and now he’s stuck alone like me? He’s just a kid. He had hopes and aspirations. He was about to graduate from college.  And the poor kid can’t even rest in peace because in reality we’re part of a sick game. Do you know how hard it is to kill an angel? If it was that easy we’d have done it already. Maybe this is decades’ worth of bottled up emotions talking, but it needs to be said. Whatever this area, this plane, this form of living is, it was not worth giving my life in that way. If things would have been different we would have been together in the afterlife. Not stranded in the middle of a black void! I could be standing in an open field with other angels, socializing, embracing my family. Yes, the other virtues are nice but having six other people to talk to forever is insane! Every day is such repetitive nonsense that I’ve lost track of time. Of course Franz and Jillian aren’t alive. How many years has it been? I died in 1953, if Jillian is over one hundred and Franz is still alive in his condition I’ll be damned. Hell, I’ve already been damned since I’m here so I might as well assume they’re alive while I’m rotting away in death. I wonder what hell is like if I’m not there already, I’m sure causing an eternity’s worth of pain would be better than basking in the universe’s hate for such a bastard like me. “How dare you sacrifice yourself, how dare you save your son, I’m going to ‘reward’ you with an eternity’s worth of pain! I’m sure that’s no problem at all!” Fuck.

               I need to calm down. What’s a virtue if they insult the divine? I do hope someone finds this. Or do I? Tell me this, Creator or God or whomever. If the body contains nerves and thought processes and a heart, then why do emotions carry on to the next life? Is that all we are? Feelings personified into translucent figures that roam the skies aimlessly, thoughtlessly, only “keeping order”, whatever that means.

               Sigh. Franz, if I end up somehow dying and you find this, please forgive me. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way, but I couldn’t think of anything else. It was the only way. I’m not a saint; I just wanted you to be happy. But if I would have known I’d never get to see my own son again then I would have never done this. Jillian, please don’t hate me. I never meant to make you upset. And I’ll never know if you did forgive me.

               For the first time in my life since death, I’m doubting the reasoning behind my existence. If I’m supposed to give and not seek anything for personal gain, then why do I feel like this? Feeling as though it would’ve been better if he had died, just so I did not have to go through this. I feel…greedy. I want something out of this. For the first time, I expect something in return. Yet I am still here. I want to find purpose. I want to know that there is someone who still cares. I want to see my family. I want to go home. I’m just a broken shell of what I used to be. There is nothing left. When you find this – if you find this, I’ll have found a way to escape from here. I’ll have moved on to whatever comes after a second death. This man is determined to leave this place, and he’s not going to let anyone, or anything stop him. I’m leaving this behind. Please, forgive me.

Goodbye.

  Dad,

You did great. Mom and I love you. I couldn’t have asked for a better father. You’ve done more than enough. Please, for your own sake Dad, take a break. You deserve to rest in peace.