Torn between fighting for France's freedom and tending to his very sick mother, Sartre's protagonist does not have any guidance . In his famous essay "Existentialism is a Humanism" (1948), Sartre contended that nothing can help him choose, not Christianity, nor conventional morals. Not even Kant can legislate a Universal Law from the Great Noumena to light the way out of the dilemma. We are existence thrown in the immense commotion that is the world, and we are utterly alone in our choices.
Disclaimer: my philosophy is as far away from existentialism as possible, but I couldn't help but be reminded of this scenario when I was stuck on the bus, trying to go to work in a congested Eastern Corridor. Today was the Strike. Protesters tried every way they could to paralyze the transport system in the city. Some my friends chose to stay at home. Others were outraged by the disruption. I was alone in this increasingly rigid dichotomy, or so I wished.
Our choices are not our own. They are to show whether we truly belong to our groups, yellow-ribbon (broadly the protesters) or blue-ribbon (against the protests). They signal our fidelity to the principles we hold in the group. We are angry at the perceived enemies together. We tell stories to console ourselves, to understand what has happened. There are two powerful urges in action, our needs to be "in the right" and to be accepted. That's why, no one was alone when she chose to put her hand between the train doors this morning, just to impede the going-on of the metro. (One caveat: I hesitate to believe that this is the exact case. Psychologization is something that I am not comfortable at. It paints the picture that what we do is just because of our psychology, not about the issue per se. But I digress.)
I arrived at the bank on time, though almost 60% of my colleagues did not. The branch manager was frantically arranging stuff. The rest of the staff was grappling with the unfolding situation and tried the best they could to open the bank. I imagined people who chose to go to work today would be labelled as "selfish" by some, because they chose their lives (and livelihoods) before the democracy of HK. I thought of Sartre again, and I didn't think I was in the position to judge. They did not look selfish to me: A bank could not run itself. Someone got to keep it going. Money might be the thing that started a bank, or a career in the bank, but once a person is thrown to the immense commotion that is the counter and the hour-long queue, it seems different.338Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvH5dcV2hCq
We all make choices, some negatively affecting others freedom of choice. No matter what rationale one has, it does not change the fact that she has limited other's lives. Of course, if our leader is a better person, there will be news of a resignation soon. But at some point, a show of power will be answered by another show of power. Violence begets violence, and soon, violence will be the only answer. We have the bloody and drawn French Revolution as a reference.
In the end, the bank made the workers leave early today, and I returned to my bourgeois homelife again, complaining about my work on my blog again. A bystander who can only comment at the sideline is indeed pathetic, but there is worth, at least to my own life, in finding a way to go on. What is it to be said about a philosopher working in a bank?
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