The North West Passage

Leaving aside, for the moment, the observation that not all pagans are involved in open public groups that have or require leaders; and leaving aside, for the moment, that no one is under any obligation to join such groups…

As I was surfing through the back issues of a few popular pagan blogs, I came across this, by Anne Hill, written about a year ago. It has to do with some of her personal thoughts concerning Reclaiming Tradition, but it is relevant to a lot of the pagan movement as a whole. Here’s the quote that caught my attention:

“I think abolishing hierarchy is stupid and a waste of time. If you are interested in equality at all costs, you should never have gone looking for your power in the first place. Holding authority with integrity is more important than making others feel good.“

Read the whole article here.

Consensus and egalitarianism was one of the founding principles of Reclaiming, since (if I understand the group’s principles properly) it was thought that most, if not all, forms of heirarchy and leadership are inherently oppressive. (Reclaiming members: please correct me if I’m wrong here.)

Indeed consensus, accountability, and democratic “checks and balances” form a very important part of the organisational structure of almost every pagan group that I have been involved in, over the last almost-twenty years. In one group that I was briefly instrumental in forming, the very first thing that the other founders wanted to do was establish the means to remove anyone who takes on a leadership position of any kind. In another group I once helped to create, there was no formal leadership at all: just a shared literature and group of symbols and practices. But within a few years a certain bullish individual arranged to make herself the Archdruid and now the organisation essentially belongs to her. (Every once in a while people ask if I’m still involved in this group. The answer is no.)

In various groups that uphold consensus-building as a primary value, the word consensus often becomes code for “the opinion of the most outspoken, bullish person”. Those who disagreed with that person, even if they had good reason to disagree, sometimes are accused of “holding up the process” or “disrespecting the consensus” or “not being a team player”.

Because of experiences like these, I find myself agreeing with Anne’s remarks above. I’ve also studied a little bit of anthropology, and it seems to me that a little bit of heirarchy is a normal and natural part of any human society. The evidence of 60,000 years of human history and culture has convinced me that people can’t do without leaders. Even a group as small as a dozen people will have one or two members who do more than others to keep the group together and keep it active, or who are turned to more often for help and advice. This creates heirarchies of leadership, even if covertly so.

So, my friends, this week’s question concerns leadership. Is the hypothesis that people can’t do without leaders correct? Do others have experience with covert heirarchies in egalitarian groups? If that hypothesis is true, it might be better to encourage certains forms of personal excellence in our leaders, rather than insist upon consensus and egalitarianism. This opens the question: what should we expect from our leaders? What do we want them to do? What would a non-oppressive kind of leadership for pagans look like? Aside from integrity, as mentioned by Anne, what other values should we look for in our leaders?

This past week I’ve been mostly bed-ridden with the flu. No, not the swine flu, thankfully! But my condition has been unpleasant enough anyway: dizziness, nausea, drowsiness, headache, lightheadedness, and a few other unmentionable symptoms.

It seems a good time to pose a question that’s been on my mind for months now. Does it seem to you, as it does to me, that the pagan movement has rather a lot of people with chronic health problems? Many of these problems are physical, and include diseases like diabetes, arthritis, severe food allergies, various STD’s, and obesity. Many are also psychological, such as anxiety disorders, post-traumatic stress, clinical depression, learning disabilities, substance addictions, and mild schitzophrenia. It seems to me that as a fraction of the total, there are more sick people in the pagan movement than there is in our wider society as a whole.

I’m not a statistician, nor an anthropologist, so I’m not in a position to provide any hard numbers about the rate of health problems inside v. outside the pagan movement. I also know that some of these aforementioned problems are epidemics for the whole of our society anyway: obesity is an example. But nonetheless, it does appear to me that many of the people I meet at pagan events, who describe themselves with the vocabulary of freedom, light, spirituality, and empowerment, are also people who require numerous medications daily, and are physically incapable of doing some of the pagan movement’s most distinctive ritual activities, such as dancing. And I meet more of these people in the pagan events I attend, than I do in the rest of the world.

Having experienced pagan culture in nine different countries now, I also observe that the pagans in Europe tend to have far fewer health problems than those here in Canada, or in the U.S.

Well, everyone, here’s my question: Has anyone else noticed this? What might be the explanation? Is there something about paganism that attracts people with chronic health problems? What, if anything, can or should be done about it?

The Irish story of Deirdre of the Sorrows ends with a kind of stand-off between Conchobor, the king who loved (or, more acurately, who lusted for) Deirdre, and Deirdre herself, who despises the king. Conchobor had arranged for the betrayal and murder of Deirdre’s lover Naoise and his two brothers, the sons of Uisneach. He locked her in one of the houses of Emain Macha. He composed songs for her, gave her gifts, and practically broke his own heart trying to win the Deirdre’s favour. But she would not have him for any reason. Finally in frustration, Conchobor sends her away to live for a year in the household of a man she despises more than Conchobor himself. While on the way, Deirdre throws herself from the chariot into a ravine, cracks her head on an outcropping of rock, and dies.

This week’s question concerns suicide. In the story of Deirdre, it’s fairly clear that Deirdre’s suicide was deliberate and rational. She concluded that the continuation of her life would bring her only continued suffering and misery, for the loss of her lover Naoise, and for the unwanted (and frankly oppressive) romantic overtures from Conchobor. This, she reasoned, rendered her life no longer worth continuing.

One could look to various other examples too: Samurai warriors taking their own lives in response to a loss of honour; the various “Sacred Kings” described by James Frazer who practically volunteer themselves for human sacrifices, and so on. In cases like these, people choose to die, for reasons that seem to make sense to them (if not to us).

When I discuss life-and-death issues with my philosophy students at the university, I often put the question this way: there are two “base categories” of moral value. One I called the “sanctity of life” view, and it holds that a human life is inherently valuable. Therefore, in any moral decision affecting whether someone lives or dies, the choice to make is the one which preserves and protects human life, no matter what the conditions or circumstances of that life. The other I called the “worthwhile life” view, in which what matters is the quality of life, and the desirability of its circumstances. A life is to be preserved and protected if the person whose life it is desires to continue living it.

The first view, because it prioritises the continuation of human life, rejects decisions like suicide: it holds that a life must always be preserved. Even those whose lives are full of misery and who foresee no end to that misery, should soldier on. Those who opposed the removal of the feeding tube from Terri Shiavo are those who support the sanctity of life view. Probably the clearest and strongest statement of this view is the Declaration on Euthanasia by the Roman Catholic Church. Some of my pagan friends endorse a view like this when they say things like “No matter what your situation, there is always something beautiful happening around you”; the hidden implication is that the benefit of being alive always outweighs whatever harms or burdens one might be enduring, no matter how severe.

The second view, because it prioritises the quality of human life, allows for (yet does not demand) decisions like suicide. It holds that if a life is no longer deemed worthwhile by the person who is living that life, then it is not wrong for that person to end his life. Someone who, because he has an incurable disease that causes him acute suffering, or someone who has lost his friends and family, might decide that his life is no longer worth continuing. People like Sue Rodriguez who campaign for the right to die are proponents of this view. Some pagan friends of mine, although they say that all life is sacred, also say that life is not worth having at any price, and that death is part of life, and death is sacred too, and so that it can be acceptable to plan one’s own death, especially if doing so would prevent the continuation of needless suffering.

Are people who contemplate suicide under something like a moral obligation to “cheer up”, to change how they relate to others, and to find or even invent a reason to go on? Or, are there circumstances, situations, or reasons why, in your view, it is acceptable to take one’s own life? Might there be such a thing as a sacred death? Which of the two base categories of value described here is the strong one in your mind? Or is there some synthesis of the two that you can see? Or is there a third view?

A happy and delightful and fertile Beltaine to all of you!

Who knows if I’ll be able to do this on a Sunday afternoon as I used to do, at least for the next little while, since I’m going to be on the move rather a lot in the next two months. I’ve just moved out of the house in Hamilton, and all my possessions are in storage at my parent’s house in Elora. Tomorrow I’m going to Switzerland and Italy for two weeks. And after that… well, let the winds blow high, blow low, oh…

So this week’s question messes with your reality by appearing on a Friday.

While in Montreal last weekend (see, I told you I’ve been moving around a lot!) I had a very interesting conversation with Judika Illes, author of some very large books on spellcraft. (I do mean large. One of them, “The Element Encyclopedia of Witchcraft” is over 1000 pages.) One of the things we talked about briefly was a future writing project she has in mind: an encyclopedia of saints, which would include pagan saints.

An interesting idea indeed. It seems to me there is already a small but growing trend in the movement to treat certain historical people as important fore-runners, whose accomplishments and life-stories are sufficiently inspirational that people treat them as saints, even if they don’t use the word ‘saint’. Judika mentioned Boadicca almost right away, as a pagan woman who many contemporary pagan women admire. I’ve put this question in casual conversation to friends a few times, and some of the names that pop up first are the ones you would expect: Uncle Gerald and Doreen, for instance. Other names that were frequently mentioned included Hypatia, Pericles, and Joan of Arc. A friend of mine who is a Thelemite said that in the OTO, the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche is considered an important saint.

Many communities and even whole nations already have something of a tradition of honouring the nation’s “Worthies”; this apparently begins in the middle ages with Jacques de Longuyon, who in 1312 drew up a list of Nine Worthies, historical or mythical people who exemplified the ideals of chivalry. Contemporary governments, or individuals who are rich enough, will sometimes build monuments to its best war heroes. Canada’s Fifteen Valiants include Isaac Brock, Teyendenega (a.k.a. Joseph Brant), and Laura Secord. An excellent collection of Worthies indeed, although I would have included Billy Bishop, the RCAF pilot who shot down the Red Baron.

Who are the worthies for the contemporary pagan movement? If you had to name a few worthies for our movement, who would be on your list? Why do you consider such people worthy of being called ‘worthies’? There doesn’t have to be nine of them, and they don’t have to be soldiers or military people. But they have to be historical people, and they have to be dead. 🙂

I’ll pass on the results to Judika, to help with her research.

…is deferred to some unspecified time in the future, since I’m in Montreal attending Melange Magique’s Beltaine Fair. I may or may not post it later in the week, since I’m moving out of Hamilton on Wednesday. Then on Saturday of next week I’m flying to Zurich, for the two week tour of Switzerland and Italy.

I was thinking that I might make this week’s question something like Which is better – Montreal or Toronto? but if I were to say anything other than Montreal, while actually sitting in Montreal, I’m sure I’d end up wearing my poutine.

Jason Pitzl-Waters probably didn’t have my last Q of the Week in mind when he posted this to his blog today, in honour of Earth Day:

“Deity is not merely a transcendent force separate from creation, deity is everywhere and within every thing. Each of us holds the potential to be like the gods, and we acknowledge that the gods and powers walk and exist among us still.”

Excellently said.

So, to follow up this week’s question, might an idea like this one, among others, be powerful enough to stand against violence in the world? Might an idea like it be the sort of thing pagans should teach and promote and demonstrate by example, so that the fundamental changes that alfrecht spoke of might actually happen?

In other news:
Shastan, over at Pinch Pennies Save Planet blog, is having an Earth Day contest. The prize: Michael Pollan’s “In Defence of Food”. I learned about his work through the PPSP blog, and like what I see.

In other, other news:
The manuscript for Book the Fifth is now around 30,000 words. I’m really excited about it. It might surprise a few of you, especially when you see how I dexteriously quote from Harry Belafonte’s “We come from the Mountain” and KMFDM’s “Juke Joint Jezebel” in the same chapter. Ha!

Courtesy of Druidic Dawn, here is a video recording of my Mount Haemus Lectre, from August 2008.

Also, the text for the lecture can be found here.

Another fun one this week, although it might make a few of you think I’m trying to start my own cult. (Well, I am kinda tired of being poor…)

In his 1957 book “Symbols of Faith”, American theologian Paul Tillich wrote: “Man’s ultimate concern must be expressed symbolically, because symbolic language alone is able to express the ultimate.” From there he described six properties of symbols which distinguish them from mere signs. They are:

1. Symbols point beyond themselves to something else. (Well, so do signs.)

2. Symbols (unlike signs) participate in the reality of that to which they point.

3. Symbols open up levels of reality which are otherwise closed to us.

4. Symbols also open up dimensions and elements of the soul.

5. Symbols cannot be produced intentionally; they grow from the individual or collective unconscious.

6. Symbols cannot be invented: like living beings, they grow and they die.

So my question for this week concerns the power of symbols. Furthermore, as I read Tillich’s discussion here, I was particularly intrigued by his use of national flags as the example which makes his point. In his description of the second property of symbols, he says:

The flag participates in the power and dignity of the nation for which it stands. Therefore, it cannot be replaced except after an historic catastrophe that changes the reality of the nation which it symbolizes…

So I’m also curious to ask about your views on the power of flags as symbols for our most ultimate spiritual ideas, and our most important social commitments. A community, a government, even a nation, not just an individual, asserts its presence with a flag in a political as well as existential sense. The flag also carries the implicit presence of that nation’s history, origin, priorities, laws, political structures, and so on. Thus whenever I travel in Europe, the sight of a Canadian flag in someone’s apartment window, or on another traveler’s backpack, always makes me happy. I find myself glad of the sign that a member of my ‘tribe’, so to speak, is nearby.

more discussion, and some pictures…