Tuesday, 31 January 2012

Mind and Brain

Mind and Brain: The Genius of Fortune
Jesus, according to the Bible1, tells his followers a parable about a man who, before embarking on a long journey, called together his three servants and entrusted them with the greater part of his wealth. To the first servant, he gave five talents2 of gold, to the second, two talents, and to the third, one talent. Upon his return several years later, he called upon his servants to deliver up the wealth which he had left to them. The first servant reported that he had made productive use ofthe five talents entrusted to him and thereupon returned ten talents to his master, who was so delighted with this good and faithful servant, he rewarded him. The second servant made a similar report and returned not only his original two talents, but an additional two which he had earned during his master's absence. The man was as delighted with this servant as he was with the first, and the second servant was similarly rewarded. The third servant reported that, because he had dug a hole in the ground and hid the one talent entrusted to him, he was only able to offer back to his master his one original talent.This report angered the man, who took the one talent from the servant, gave it to the first servant, and cast the slothful servant out of doors, where, according to Matthew, there was much gnashing of teeth.
The Parable of the Talents is intended to warn even those with the meanest ability to use to the best advantage his or herGod-given or natural "talents." We do commonly observe that some people appear to exercise more or less talent than others, and these differing degrees of talent among individuals vary from field to field -- for example, some have a higher degree of talent in artistic creation, others in their power to solve problems in mathematics. Why is this so? Are these talents, as the parable may suggest, God-given, or is there some material explanation for varying degrees of artistic and intellectual abilities?
Our inquiry builds upon the moderate immaterialistic view of the relationship between the mind and body, a view articulated by Mortimer J. Adler in his book, Intellect,3 and which may be summarized as follows: The brain is a necessary, but not a sufficient condition of conceptual thought. In other words, some immaterial substance (e.g.,human soul, spirit, or intellect) is required for conceptual thought, but conceptual thought depends upon the operation of the material brain, without which we could not think conceptually.4 Upon that, it is submitted that the difference in degree among humans in intellectual talent -- a difference, when evident in one extreme, we call gifted talent or genius -- has its basis in the dependence of conceptual thought upon the structure and operation of the material brain. Specifically, an intellectual talent springs from physical conditions in the brain that are disposed toward the exercise of that talent -- the better those conditions, the better the talent is likely to be. The causes of these bodily dispositions are, paradoxically, both material and, in a sense, divine.
This inquiry will begin with a brief review of the ancient concept of the mind or soul of living things, including their rational and non-rational powers, followed by a brief discussion of the human potentialities, acquired habits and bodily dispositions that influence human behavior. Recent neuroscientific evidence is shown to be entirely consistent with the thinking of ancient and Middle Age philosophy. Finally, this essay concludes with some final thoughts on an important question raised by the consequences of the conclusion reached.
The mind -- its nonrational and rational powers
Every living thing, believed Aristotle, possesses a soul and each soul has various kinds of powers.5 Those animals that possess nutritive, sensitive, appetitive, imaginative, and "rememorative" powers use those powers to think perceptually -- that is, using their senses they perceive real objects in the world, such as prey or predators, and by combining these senseswith their other powers they are able to recognize similarities between a real object and a stored image remembered -- a process which has been called perceptual abstraction.6 To this perceptual abstraction the animal applies its appetitive powers to determine whether it should be attracted to the object or whether the object is to be avoided, and to act accordingly. The nature of an animal's appetitive power determines its behavior toward objects it perceives. Lower forms of animals, such as ants, bees, and other insects, have appetitive powers that are completely determined by instinct, an innate, pre-programmed pattern of behavior. Higher animals combine instinct with an ability to learn from experience. In both the lower and higher animals, "thinking" occurs merely on the perceptual level, using only the nutritive, sensitive, appetitive, imaginative, and rememorative powers, what the ancient Greeks would call the nonrational powers of the soul.
The souls of human animals, by contrast, consists of all of the foregoing non-rational powers, powers which are shared by many other animals, plus the rational powers, which only human souls possess. The rational, or higher, powers of the soul comprise the cognitive (i.e., the power of knowing or opining about real objects -- things that are variable, such as things perceived by the senses), the calculative (i.e., the power to reason or make inferences), and the conceptive (i.e., the power to understand intelligible objects -- things that are invariable, such as forms and ideas). These rational powers are used, together with our animalistic nonrational powers, to perform distinctly human thinking. The possession of these rational powers of the mind -- which provides us with the ability to think conceptually, rather than just perceptually -- is what distinguishes man from all other animals.
Potentiality
Perceptual experiences influence the appetitive behavior of all animals, but the appetitive behavior of all animals is not governed the same way. Although a nonhuman animal's appetitive power is governed by its instinct, the appetitive power of the human animal is governed by its rational powers. Humans have no instinct -- no innate, pre-programmed patterns of behavior -- to instruct the individual how to act. Instead, humans are endowed with what we call a free will, the potential to allow our rational powers to govern our appetitive desires, so that, even in the absence of a preprogrammed instinct to tell us what is really good for us, our reason may prompt a desire to perform those actions that are really good for us, our reason may prompt a desire to perform those actions that are really good for us, including those actions which involve no physical pleasure to attract us or those for which we suffer some pain or discomfort.
The natural powers, or potentialities, of the human mind are the same in every human being, under all cultural conditions, at all times, and at all places.7 Potentiality is like a tablet on which there is nothing actually written.8 Thus, the potential to use our rational powers for our own good is something all humans have and have to the same degree -- that is, every person is born with the same potential to use his or her cognitive, calculative, and conceptive powers. Nevertheless, there is a difference between possessing something and using it -- as in the difference between having the power to think rationally and actually exercising that power. Accordingly, the degree to which a person's "talent" in the exercise of his or her rational powers varies from the talents of others derives not from our innately endowed, natural potentials, which all humans possess on an equal basis, but from something that affects each individual's exercise of their human potential. Thus, genius does not result from our equal powers or potentialities for rational thought -- our immaterial, clean slate -- but from something else.
Acquired habits
As noted, we use our rational powers to help govern the exercise of our appetitive powers -- that is, we use our reason to govern our desires.9 The proper governing of our desires is aided by the development of virtues, or good habits (and impeded by the development of vices, or bad habits). Habits are dispositions of our appetitive powers and are formed by the repetition of particular acts. Being formed by actions taken after we are alive, habits are not natural powers, but products of nurturing and are influenced by such things as cultural conditions and the individual's social environment. Thus, a person may certainly acquire a "talent" through an acquired habit, such as taking piano lessons or practicing one'smath drills.
It does not escape common observation, however, that certain individuals, though they may be the product of the same environment as others, such as a gifted child and his or her normal siblings, just seem better disposed than others to perform certain actions. Thus, mathematical, artistic or other genius discovered in the very young cannot be explained solely by cultural conditions, social environment, or other factors that contribute to the development of good habits. In other words, genius does not appear to be an acquired habit.
Bodily dispositions
Genetic research has discovered that genius runs in families. Genes are physical causes. Thus, leaving aside acquired habits which may be employed to develop one's talents, the degrees to which the exercise of human talents vary from individual to individual appear to be physically, or materially, caused. If genius is materially determined, then it is not a product of the immaterial, natural powers of man. This is not to say that the exercise of genius is based in purely material operations: Genius involves the exercise of the immaterial powers of the mind; what is materially caused is the varying degrees to which individuals have the ability to exercise such immaterial powers.
Thus, there appears to be something material that underlies the virtuous exercise of human potential -- some physical structure in our body, perhaps genetically determined, that is particularly conducive to the development of good habits or the exercise of what we call genius or gifted talent. Is this not what Aquinas suggested in his examination of the question, "Whether one person can understand one and the same thing better than another can"?10 Experience shows, says Aquinas, that some understand more deeply than others, and in the following sentence, he suggests why this is so:
 
"[B]ecause some men have bodies of better disposition, their souls have a greater power of understanding."
Thus, the cause of superior intellectual talent appears to involve something else besides natural powers, or potentialities shared equally by all men, on the one hand, and acquired habits, the dispositions to act that we acquire by performing certain actions repeatedly, on the other. What's new here are dispositions that are neither natural nor acquired -- dispositions that are in-born, but material and which vary from individual to individual. We will call these, after Aquinas's suggestion, bodily dispositions.
Neuroscientific evidence
In pondering this material source of genius, it is useful to briefly review recent developments in neuroscience. Neuroscientists have been busily researching "the neural basis of mental phenomena."11 These scientists estimate that a three to four pound human brain contains 100 billion nerve cells, called neurons, and believe that mental events can be correlated with patterns of nerve impulses in the brain. By studying how these neurons work, how they communicate with one another, how they are organized into local or distributed networks, and how the connections between neurons changewith experience, they believe they can unlock the key to the "grand synthesis of mental life."
By research conducted through the observation of abnormalities in human sensory perception, combined with new tissue-staining techniques and the advent of the positron emission tomographer (i.e., a device which can measure increasesin regional cerebral blood flow when people perform specific tasks), scientists have begun to discover that discrete areas of the brain specialize in certain sensory functions and work in parallel to accomplish particular tasks, such as vision. For example, the evidence suggests that the movement, color and shape of an oncoming tennis ball are each processed in a different area of the brain. How this "parallel processing" works remains a mystery, but it is hoped that further researchinto the structure and composition of the brain will uncover some answers.
This research has already revealed a great diversity in the kinds of neurons found in the brain, including differences in their shape, molecular structure, and chemical composition. Some neurons have short axons, or tentacular arms, designed to communicate with neighboring neurons and others have long axons that project to other regions. At birth, the brain is only one-fourth of adult size. The brain grows in size because its neurons grow in size and the number of axons and extent of their connections increase. The development of neural connections within the brain as it grows can be compared with the process of stringing telephone lines between homes and among cities.12 This massive "wiring" project is largely genetically determined, but genes seem to go only as far as sending the axons to the right "town." The hookups of axons to the right "addresses" is aided by molecular clues in the neurons, which can be influenced by external factors such as chemicals, hormones, and sensory stimulation. Thus, the specificity of synaptic connections that comes about during development of the brain is influenced not only by genetic factors, but also by a variety of other internal and external factors occurring during the growth of the brain while in the womb and during early childhood.
Brain Structure and Talent
Behavioral research is also beginning to reveal differences among individuals that cannot be explained by environmental or cultural factors. For example, recent evidence suggests that men and women differ in the way in which they solve perceptual problems: men tend to perform better than women on certain spatial tasks, and woman tend to be better than men at rapidly identifying matching items.13 Scientists are beginning to attribute these differences to the influence of sex hormones on the "wiring" or organization of the brain during its early stages of growth.
If factors such as genetic makeup, chemical balance, sex hormones, and sensory stimulation, influence how the brain develops its specific structure, and if that structure plays a role in determining patterns of ability or talent in individuals, then was not Aquinas correct in his view that the souls of some men have a greater power of understanding, because of their "bodies of better disposition"? The evidence does seem to suggest that the structure and composition of the brain influences how well an individual is able to perform certain tasks, and this seems quite consistent with Aquinas's view of the matter as stated in the Summa Theologica:
[O]ne may understand the same thing better than someone else, through having a greater power of understanding, just as a man may see a thing better with his bodily sight, whose power is greater, and whose sight is more perfect.14
Thus, it appears some may have a greater power of understanding than others by reason of a better disposition of the body. For example, actors, and those who are said to have "photographic memories," would seem to have brains disposed to the exercise of their rememorative powers, or potential to memorize, and recall on demand, lines of text,images or other information. Of course, excellence in intellectual activities, such as art, acting, and calculating, can be created purely through the development of good habits, but no doubt, one who has the gift of bodily disposition toward a certain kind of intellectual activity would tend to out-perform those whose bodies are not similarly disposed toward thatkind of activity.
Relationship between bodily dispositions and rational powers
Thus far, it has been suggested, if not reasonably established, that material conditions in the body affect our exercise of human potentialities. A key problem that must be addressed is whether material conditions in the body which affect intellectual thought do so by directly affecting our rational powers. For example, would a mathematical genius have a brain disposed to the superior exercise of his rational power of calculative thought, or do his superior calculative powers arise from conditions in the brain disposed to the exercise of some combination of nonrational powers, such as imaginative and rememorative? In other words, do material conditions in the body better dispose the mind for nutritive, sensitive, imaginative and rememorative (nonrational) powers, which, being better disposed, aid the operation of the rational powers, or do material conditions in the body better dispose the rational powers directly?
Aquinas appears to have suggested that material conditions directly improve the exercise of both the nonrational and rational powers when he said that the effect of bodily dispositions applies to the intellect "in two ways": "First, as regards the intellect itself . . . [and] [s]econdly, this occurs in regard to the lower powers of which the intellect has need in its operation." [emphasis mine] Moreover, he says, "The intellect is that which most pertains to form in man."15 What if neurological research suggested that even the understanding of form depends upon the material attributes of the brain? Consider the following passage:
Blindsight patients are people who "see" but do not "understand." Because they are unaware of what they have seen, they have not acquired any knowledge. . . . [One such] patient has an extensive prestriate lesion [i.e., affecting the visual association cortex] from a stroke that has generally spared area V1 [i.e., the primary visual cortex]. He can reproduce a sketch of St. Paul's Cathedral with greater skill than many normal people, although it takes him a great deal of time to do so. Yet this patient has no comprehension of what he has drawn. Because his V1 system is largely intact, he can identify the local elements of form, such as angles and simple shapes, and accurately copy the lines he sees and understands. The prestriate lesion, however, prevents him from integrating the lines into a complex whole and recognizing it as a building.16
It would appear that the patient's rational power of cognitive thought [i.e., the power of understanding real objects, things that are variable, such as things perceived by the senses] has been adversely affected by a material condition of the patient's brain. Of course, it could be said that this proves nothing -- that a closer examination of the facts would reveal that merely perception, not rational understanding of invariable forms, is impeded by the patient's physical condition, in which case the answer may need await further neurological research.
Nevertheless, assuming that neuroscientific research has proven, or will soon prove, that our rational powers are directly affected by material conditions, does this suggest we must alter our assumption of the moderate immaterialistic view of the relationship between the mind and the brain? No. Intellect is only potentially the object of thought.17 As Aristotle pointed out, potentiality is like that of the tablet on which there is nothing actually written.18 In his work, On the Soul, the philosopher says,
It was a good idea to call the soul the 'place of the forms,' though (1) this description holds only of the intellective soul, and (2) even this is the forms only potentially, not actually. (emphasis mine)19
We thus return to the important difference between possessing something and using it -- between possessing our rational powers, which are merely potentialities, and the actual exercise of those powers. It is the exercise of our rational powers, not the mere possession of them, which depends upon the material brain as a necessary condition, and, as noted above, it is the actual exercise of our rational powers, not the mere possession of them potentially, which influences the degree to which an individual's talents vary from those of others. Nevertheless, because the immaterial potentiality -- the empty tablet -- remains a necessary condition of intellectual thought, a scientific finding that the recognition of forms, or any act of rational thinking, is influenced by the material condition of the brain is not inconsistent with the view that the possession of the necessary means of rational thought is purely immaterial. Accordingly, even if neuroscientific research successfully proves that our rational powers are directly affected by material conditions, the moderate immaterialistic view of the relationship between the mind and the brain stands unaffected.
The cause of superior intellectual ----power
The material cause20 of a superior intellectual power (i.e., that out of which the superior power is made) is, as we have said, a physical structure of the body or brain well disposed to the exercise of that power. The exercise of intellectual power exhibits itself in a variety of talents and the particular talent is dependent on the particular structural and chemical composition of the brain.21 The formal cause of superior intellectual power (i.e., that into which the power is made) is, of course, the product of the exercise of the power -- the particular display of genius -- in whatever form the variety of human genius may take. The efficient cause of superior intellectual power (i.e., that by which the power is made) is, as noted, a confluence of nature and art: the internal genetic makeup of the individual and external material factors (some of which are man-made) that influence the structure, chemical composition, and operation of the brain during its early development. Yet, there appears to be an additional factor influencing the degree of intellectual talent in an individual, and that is chance, or Fortune. As noted, parents who have certain gene structures may combine to produce offspring with brains conducive to genius. The environment into which one is born is, or certainly appears to be, entirely determined by fortuity. Moreover, neuroscientists may well find that Fortune -- a goddess they may prefer to call, randomness -- may even play a considerable role in the development of the brain, as the wiring of a billion neurons guided by "molecular clues" -- like the development of a crystal into one of a seemingly infinite variety of structures -- would appear to leave to chance a material role to play in the development of genius.
But is the notion that chance plays a role in superior intellectual power a reasonable one? "There is noincompatibility whatsoever," says Alder, "between the presence of chance, randomness, and contingency in the cosmos and God's creation of it (and presumably, gift to man of conceptual thought)."22 The structure of all human brains are substantially similar, but as the film director, Cecil B. DeMille once said, "God is in the details."
Final thoughts
Not every human develops the material bodily conditions that are well disposed to the exercise of human genius. However, if these conditions are material, as suggested, it would appear that man does have the capacity to create or modify those conditions, through genetic and pharmaceutical research. If neuroscience succeeds in understanding the structural and chemical composition of the brain and discovering techniques to artificially enhance the conditions that underlie human genius, then we will be forced to make a prescriptive judgment about whether we should use this knowledge to engineer genius in coming generations -- the development of what marketers might call, designer kids.
In considering that question, we would need look no further than to the final cause (i.e., the purpose) of superior intellectual power. Whether we determine that final cause to be the discovery of truth, the performance of virtuous acts, or just plain contemplation, it is clear that the improvement of our intellectual capabilities, essential to all three of these pursuits, would serve the end of intellectual power. Would we not be justified in improving human contemplation itself, what Aristotle called the highest form of activity, an activity which is appreciated for its own sake?23 As noted at the outset, the Parable of the Talents warns even those with the meanest ability to use to the best advantage their natural talents. If, therefore, through scientific inquiry we can find a way to improve our bodily dispositions to improve ourpowers of conceptual thought, it appears, from sources both reasonable and divine, that we should do so. But prudently.
 
"What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.
Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason
To fust in us unused."
Shakespeare, Hamlet
(GBWW I: 27, 59; II: 25, 59
 
Footnotes
1. Matt 25:14-30.[back]
2. According to Dr. Samuel Johnson's Dictionary, "1. A talent signified so much weight or a sum of money, the value differing according to the differing ages and countries. . . . 2. Faculty, power, gift of nature. A metaphor borrowed from the talents mentioned in the holy writ." Samuel Johnson, LL.D, A Dictionary of the English Language, 8th Edition (London: J. Johnson, 1799).[back]
3. See, Mortimer J. Adler, Intellect: Mind Over Matter, (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., 1990), pp. 41-53.[back]
4. The concept of thinking conceptually encompasses all the rational powers described below.[back]
5. See, generally, Aristotle, On the Soul (GBWW I: 8, 631-68; II: 7, 631-68) For example, Aristotle believed that plants have souls, the powers of which may be summarized as follows: the nutritive (i.e., the power to take in nutrition and grow), the sensitive (i.e., the power to use certain senses, such as touch, to perceive real objects in the world) and the appetitive (i.e., the power to desire, which compels them to seek nourishment, such as by facing the sun and sprouting roots in the direction of water). The souls of higher forms of life have those powers, plus some additional powers. Some animals, in addition to the sensitive power of touch shared by plants, possess the sensitive powers of sight, hearing, smell and taste. Many animals which possess these additional senses also possess higher powers, such as the imaginative (i.e., the power to grasp images in the mind without the physical presence of image) and the rememorative (i.e., the power to store and recall images). The foregoing description of the nonrational powers, and that of the rational powers set forth in the text, are intended to differ in name only from the descriptions set forth in Adler's Intellect, merely for the purpose of simplifying the discussion.[back]
6. Adler, Intellect, pp., 34, 36, 57-60 [back]
7. Ibid., p. 136.[back]
8. Aristotle, On the Soul (GBWW I:8, 661-62; II: 7, 661-62). [back]
9. Our desires are governed properly when we act upon right desires. See Mortimer J. Adler, Desires, Right and Wrong, (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., 1991). [back]
10. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, (GBWW I: 19, 459-60; II: 17, 459-60). [back]
11. Gerald D. Fischbach, "Mind and Brain," 267 Scientific American (September 1992), p. 48. [back]
12. Carla J. Shatz, "The Developing Brain," 267 Scientific American (September 1992), pp. 62-63. [back]
13. Doreen Kimura, "Sex Differences and the Brain," 267 Scientific American (September 1992), p. 119. [back]
14. Aquinas, Summa Theologica (GBWW I: 19, 460; II: 17, 460). See also, Aristotle,On the Soul, (GBWW I: 8, 642; II: 7, 642) If an eye were an animal, its soul would be vision. Thus, just as vision is better with the better formed eye, the powers of the soul are better with a better formed brain. [back]
15. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, (GBWW 1: 19, 459-60; II: 17, 459-60). [back]
16. Semir Zeki, "The Visual Image in Mind and Brain," 267 Scientific American (September 1992), p. 74. [back]
17. Aristotle, On the Soul, (GBWW I: 8, 661-62; II: 7, 661-62). [back]
18. Id. [back]
19. Aristotle, On the Soul, GBWW I: 8, 661; II: 7, 661). [back]
20. Aristotle's doctrine of the "four causes" -- material, formal, efficient and final -- may be found in Aristotle, Metaphysics (see, for example, Book I, chaps. 3-10) [GBWW I: 8, 501-11; II: 7, 501-11]. [back]
21. The disposition of some bodies toward the exercise of artistic talent and others toward talent in mathematics may be likened to the structure and composition of computer semiconductor chips: some chips are structured specifically for enhanced graphical capabilities, some for rapid numerical calculations. [back]
22. Adler, "Natural Theology, Chance and God" (GIT 1992, 298-99). [back]
23. Aristole, Ethics (GBWW I: 9, 430-32; II: 8, 430-32). [back]

Melville and the Social Injustices of His Day

Thesis Statement
In the novella Billy Budd, Melville uses ordinary people of his day to highlight the social injustices of the time.

Melville and the Social Injustices of His Day
Herman Melville was a common man. He never went to college, and he never had the things that most writers of his day had; for in that time, writing alone was not normally enough to sustain you. While his contemporaries were lawyers, doctors, clerks, businessmen, politicians, and other white-collar workers, Melville learned to write while working on a number of different ships as a crewmember. On ships, it was a great skill to be able to tell stories of land and sea, to be able to transport the people on board to another time and place. Melville first learned to tell a story here. He would talk of epic sea battles. He would talk about brave sailors and dastardly villains. It was from this time that his great talent for allegories would arise. But it was not until his final novel, which was not printed until after his death, that he wrote his masterpiece. In the novella Billy Budd, Melville uses the ordinary people of his day to highlight the social injustices of the time.
Billy Budd shows how we see heroes, villains, and war today, but in reality it is best when you understand the context. Billy Budd was written in the late nineteenth century (1888-1891). America had expanded from sea to shining sea. The frontier had been closed in 1890, and America could no longer expand. The Pioneer's days were over. The country did not have a great navy. In fact it was struggling to rebuild itself after the bloody Civil War. The United States was attempting to rise above its beginnings, but America was stuck in a paradox. H. Bruce Franklin talks about America's problem:
To become a world power, America would need both overseas colonies and a large peacetime navy. Indeed, these two were inseparable, for a military fleet was necessary to seize and hold colonies, and these colonies provided bases indispensable to maintaining such a fleet. The crucial question being debated was this: what were the consequences for the American republic and its democratic ideology, both founded in a revolution against imperialism and the standing armies indispensable to imperialism, if the nation were to rule overseas colonies and maintain a large, permanent, peacetime navy? (200)
This debate is waged symbolically between Billy Budd and Captain Vere. Billy symbolizes the belief that doing the right thing is all that is needed while Captain Vere believes that doing right was secondary to maintaining the control and sanctity of the Queen's Navy. In essence, Melville uses Billy as an allegory for the young United States trying to do what was right, while Captain Vere has all the characteristics of imperialism that Melville had detested all his life. Vere lives his life in fear of anyone going outside of the "rules" on which he has based his life.
The story foresees the consequences of unbridled militarism and imperialism, which ignores the rules of man not only in colonized lands, but also among the people forced to do the fighting and the colonizing. By going into the past to explore the consequences of the triumph of militarism and imperialism in England, it foreshadows the future, with the consequences of the triumph of militarism and imperialism in America. The story shows how a country can often be blinded by current events and not see the consequences of its actions. Wendell Glick talks about the repercussions of Vere's decision:
Having decided upon the absolute necessity for maintaining unweakened the strength of the social fabric, Melville shudders when he contemplates the price exacted in terms of human values; and Billy Budd became the balance-sheet upon which he reckoned the price men have to pay for the ordered society which they have to have. The most obvious price was the destruction of "Nature's Nobleman," the superlatively innocent person: every Billy Budd impressed by an Indomitable is forced to leave his Rights-of-Man behind. To the destruction of innocent persons, moreover, it was necessary to add the mental suffering of the individual forced to make moral judgements. (107)
The author is saying that Vere decided to sacrifice the good of humankind for the good of the military. Vere believes that the Naval Code is more important than the concepts of right and wrong. The names of the ships that Billy serves on are both allegories. The Indomitable is an allegory for something that is huge and awe inspiring. The Rights-of-Man symbolizes the smaller, more moral decision people often forget about. Billy journeys from ship to ship. The machinery of the Royal Navy traps Billy; he becomes a cog rather than a thinking human being. When Billy places his faith completely in the royal Navy his fate is sealed. No one must agree with everything that the country does. There should always be philosophical debate about current events. The leaders of a country will do whatever they want unless the common people watch out for their rights.
Franklin writes, " Vere's action, and his entire argument to his drumhead court, is based on a fear of an imminent mutiny. But we the readers of this 'inside narrative' never see the faintest hint of any such possibility. Discipline is only breached after Billy's execution" (204-205). Much like the character of Captain Queeg in Herman Wouk's The Caine Mutiny, Vere's rigid adherence to the letter of the Naval Code as he sees it is what ultimately leads to what he most fears: a mutiny. His very reliance on the rules dooms him.
After Claggart accuses Billy of attempted mutiny, Vere decides to confront the two men with each other in his cabin. There Billy, angered by the charge, confused and frustrated by his stammer, kills Claggart. Apparently Vere's purpose in bringing them together is to find out the truth. This plan does not make sense. Claggart would have accused, and Billy would have denied. Vere's decision is a result of his fear of mutiny.
Vere calls a court martial. During the trial the members of the court seem reluctant to hang Billy, and the Captain has to talk them into it. But it is hard to understand why Vere calls the court at all. What purpose does it serve? Is it called to guide him to a right decision? But Vere has already made his decision. In any case the court does not guide him; he guides the court. Perhaps he thinks the court will overrule him and release Billy. But Vere has reserved for himself the right of supervising the proceedings. Obviously all Vere wanted is to have on record a trial agreeing with his decision. Withim talks about the psyche of Captain Vere:
Stripped of verbiage, Vere is saying that men cannot think for themselves, that form and habit can control men as if they were no more than beasts. Vere, in an earlier passage, had thought to himself that Billy was a "'Kings Bargain,' that is to say, His Britannic Majesty's navy a capital investment at small outlay or none at all". In this light, Vere, far from being a wise man, balanced in his judgements and fair in his attitudes, is discovered to be narrow, literal, prejudiced, completely circumscribed by the needs of the navy, less compassionate than his officers, and lastly, guilty of that worst of naval sins, over-prudence. (84)
Vere's fear of losing control shapes his actions throughout the book. Vere shows that he would rather sacrifice innocence than give up control.
Franklin questions, "There is only one ambiguity about Vere: is he sane or mad? Insofar as the story focuses on Vere, it is the study of an apparently rational, humane man who can argue with learning, calm, and some plausibility that the most ethical course of action is to kill the most innocent and beloved person in your world to preserve the military law and order necessary for monarchy and empire" (207). Melville shows throughout the book that Vere is a careful man and that he is well read, well mannered, and basically a gentleman. Yet, slowly through the course of the story we see that sanity is a façade; twisted into Vere's thought patterns are the Naval Code--that archaic code that prizes obedience over all else. The very crew he is worried about mutinying is the same that holds Billy in such high regard. None except Claggart, whom he kills, had ever said anything unbecoming about Billy Budd. So by his actions, the "gentle" captain shows himself to be quite insane. This was obviously what Melville thought. He had always prized the heart over the head.
Captain Vere is of two minds throughout the story. His evil side is represented by the spectre of war in his communications with Claggart, and Billy represents his good side. Good and evil are always two sides of the same coin. Melville uses poetic concepts to illustrate humankind's values and morals. It is a tragedy that in the end Vere upholds Claggart's ideals and ignores Billy's values (Schiffman 53). Vere attempts to be portrayed as a just and moral man. But when it is not the easy way out, he chooses his duty over his heart.
Melville's prevailing style throughout his life was one of allegory and satire. He eschewed the straight narratives of many of his contemporaries. Yet Billy Budd shows a change in style. His weapon for his final attack on the social injustices of the time is his use of irony. In all other respects it is similar to his earlier works. It is a sea story, which was Melville's favorite genre. It is rich in historical detail and dealt with the "everyman." There is no upper class portrayed in his book, although the irony often lands in that same group. In Billy Budd his barbed comments often find their mark.
Melville often relates the common man to that of a savage and that of the ruling class to that of civilized men. The author portends that the "noble" savages have a better value system than so-called civilized society. When Billy utters his final phrase "God bless Captain Vere," he shows that with his simple faith he has a greater understanding of the world than Captain Vere ever will. Again the "savage" has shown that through pure instinct he is the better man. Captain Vere, upon hearing the words, is shocked. He addresses the crowd. But the Captain's words no longer have the ability to sway the sailors. The sailors have decided to go with the "heart" of the noble savage rather than the "mind" of the civilized man.
The character of Billy Budd is one of simplicity itself. Billy wants nothing more than to live his days in a virtuous way. Ironically, it is his saintly virtue that sets him apart from his seafaring comrades for most of the novella. At the end of the story, that which had set Billy apart from his shipmates in life bonds them indelibly at the moment of his death. By then, the sympathy of the men is not with the Captain, but with the virtuous Billy. Joseph Schiffman put it best when he said, "In Billy Budd, Melville presents a picture of depravity subduing virtue, but not silencing it. Billy is sacrificed, but his ballad-singing mates seize upon this as a symbol of their lives. They never accepted natural depravity and victor, and they lived to see the end of the impressment" (49).
Billy accepts his fate without question. Joyce Adler talks about his position:
Billy accepts his impressment without complaint. Like the crew of the Pequod and all but a few of the sailors on the Neversink he is incapable of saying "no" to anyone in authority, or indeed of speaking at all when he most needs to defend himself. His "imperfection" is concretized in an actual "defect", a tongue-tie or "more or less of a stutter or even worse" (p53; Ch. ii). The reverse of this "organic hesitancy"-the ability to speak with authority-is possessed by no one in Billy Budd, but the dedication to Jack Chase, whose outstanding quality in White-Jacket is his willingness to be a spokesman, points to the contrast. There is no one resembling him on the Bellipotent-a rereading of the dedication after the novel is read will remind one-no independent spirit to speak up firmly for Billy. (165)
The character of Billy shows how Melville felt about the sailors in the Royal Navy during this time (the novella takes place shortly after the French/Indian War) and about the common man in general. He felt overall that man was virtuous, as is evident in the basic good nature of the crew on both ships in the novel. Sure, there are always a few bad seeds like Claggart or men subverted from their original intentions like Captain Vere. Yet most men are, like Billy, not extraordinary, and lack the courage to stick up for themselves even when the case is clear that they are right.
The character of Vere shows not just the tendency of those in power to attempt to keep the status quo but the tendency of those in the military to fall in love with war. Though every military man would say that the ultimate goal of the armed services is peace, how many sailors (or soldiers) are happy during peacetime? Vere, although shown to be a "thoughtful" man, only acts quickly during time of violence. Adler had this to say on the matter: "Vere's devotion to war -- his "madness"-- is not sudden; it is his constant state of mind. But the peculiar circumstances of Billy's killing of Claggart bring his obsession into sharper focus" (163-164).
Claggart is the obvious villain of the story. Melville gives him no redeeming qualities. In fact, Melville talks of his "pasty white complexion" to show the outward sign of his evil. It is interesting to note that Melville made Moby Dick and Claggart, his two most evil creations, both white instead of black. The character of Claggart is so unrealistic and so uncompromisingly evil that his only purpose is to expose the morality of the other major players (Captain Vere and Billy Budd). His character eventually shows the unwavering faith of Billy and the underlying madness of Captain Vere.
Melville goes to great length to show the differences in his characters. Billy is a novice; Claggart is civilized and evil. Barbara Johnson has this to say about the characters: "Innocence and guilt, criminal and victim, change places through the mute expressiveness of Billy's inability to speak"(51). What she means by this is that when Billy kills Claggart, although he is the innocent, in the eyes of the system he has now become the villain. Indeed, in the only scene in the entire book when Billy (the common man) finally stands up for what he believes, he is found guilty by the very system he has put his faith in from day one. By this turn of events, Melville shows irony to be a double-edged sword.
Is Billy as pure as he would seem? Can Billy Budd be a veritable babe in the world? His character seems to exist mainly on avoiding everything that would be considered "bad" by civilized society. When Billy is told to join the crew of a man-of-war, he does not complain. Yet when Billy is asked by a shady character to go to a secret meeting, he responds with an unequivocal "no." This is one of the few times in the story Billy does say "no." He does not tell his superiors of the encounter because he does not want to look like a "snitch." Billy goes along with everything that people in authority tell him to do, but he will avoid getting in trouble with his shipmates. He seems to choose cognitively his decisions by making the ones that will upset no one (Johnson 56). He is like a politician in the way he avoids getting anyone angry, but he lacks the politician's drive to further his or her own position. Billy seems to have no purpose other than to stay as "pure" as possible.
Morality is one of Melville's favorite themes. Repeatedly he shows his characters to be immoral, moral, or amoral. His characters all have a strong sense of morality. But what is his definition of moral? William York Tindall states, "As I shall use it and as I think Melville did, morality implies not only action but motive, attitude, and being. It involves a sense of obligation to self, community, and the absolute, which provide a frame by conscience, law, tradition, or revelation. If we demand a single equivalent, Melville's 'responsibility' will do" (35-36).
Captain Vere is, through two-thirds of the book, a model Naval Officer. He seems at first glance to be the naval archetype, if you will. He loves to read about "real men" and "real events" according to Melville. Is it this very trait that sends him on his trip towards madness? Phil Withim states, "Does he suggest here that the only result of Vere's reading is that his mind becomes more and more firmly fixed on his earliest opinions, that no author can ever modify them, either because he will not let their ideas penetrate or because he never reads books that do not agree with him" (80)? I believe he has the right idea. It is a common axiom that you can teach people only about things they already believe. Vere only believes in his own rigid ideals and in the end, they overtake him.
Vere learns his lessons from the past. Vere uses what had happened during the bloody French Revolution as a gauge of things to come. Like many naval men, he chooses to try to keep a stable society or at least one under his control. What is his price to pay for keeping the sailors in line? The destruction of the stammering innocent and ultimately the human value cost Vere more than he gained by executing Billy. Wendell Glick reflects on this, "Billy was too good for this world; he properly belonged to another, not to this; and the moral principles from which he acted were appropriate enough for the world to which he belonged. But in a society composed of men, not angels --in a society in which even Claggarts are to be found --an inferior standard, that of expediency, is the only workable one" (111).
The allegories in Billy Budd are often of the biblical kind. Melville compares Billy throughout the book to biblical characters, often Adam or Jesus. Melville relates Billy's innocence to that of Adam's before the fall. He compares him to Jesus because both are "peacemakers." Indeed, Billy is destined for a metaphorical crucifixion. When Billy hangs, his death becomes an ascension (Tindale 39). It is interesting that Melville refers to the living Billy as Adam. The author is implying that he is without evil. Billy, once confronted by evil, reacts quickly. He is, from that point on, no longer an innocent. He has stood up for what he believed, and it will cost him his life. But in doing so, he gives the passive crew back their spirit. After Billy's death, he becomes a martyr for the crewmembers. He becomes an inspiring symbol. This symbol allows sailors to overcome their timid nature and change the world around them.
The tale of Billy Budd is the tale of three men in a boat, but that subject is just the beginning of the story. At its heart it is Herman Melville's last stand against social injustice and the hypocrisy of his times. Melville, in his many years working on sailing vessels, came up with a strong idea of right and wrong. His belief system, steeped in allegory, permeated his earlier works. In his last major work, Melville uses his own experiences and irony to highlight the moral deficiencies in the modern naval world. Billy is undone by his very virtue. By being unable to speak up, or when he does, stuttering and speaking impotently, he is a symbol of the masses: virtuous but without a voice. He lacks the fire that transforms people into something more. Only by his death does Billy become more than he was in life. Vere is the consummate naval officer. He reads, he writes, and he seems to have compassion. Yet, like many officers in positions of power, Vere sees only how to keep order and not the bigger picture. Ultimately, his shortsightedness does him in. Melville shows that there must be a balance between innocence and the rigidity of order if a country is to survive.

Thesis Statement
In the novella Billy Budd, Melville uses ordinary people of his day to highlight the social injustices of the time.

Melville and the Social Injustices of His Day
Herman Melville was a common man. He never went to college, and he never had the things that most writers of his day had; for in that time, writing alone was not normally enough to sustain you. While his contemporaries were lawyers, doctors, clerks, businessmen, politicians, and other white-collar workers, Melville learned to write while working on a number of different ships as a crewmember. On ships, it was a great skill to be able to tell stories of land and sea, to be able to transport the people on board to another time and place. Melville first learned to tell a story here. He would talk of epic sea battles. He would talk about brave sailors and dastardly villains. It was from this time that his great talent for allegories would arise. But it was not until his final novel, which was not printed until after his death, that he wrote his masterpiece. In the novella Billy Budd, Melville uses the ordinary people of his day to highlight the social injustices of the time.
Billy Budd shows how we see heroes, villains, and war today, but in reality it is best when you understand the context. Billy Budd was written in the late nineteenth century (1888-1891). America had expanded from sea to shining sea. The frontier had been closed in 1890, and America could no longer expand. The Pioneer's days were over. The country did not have a great navy. In fact it was struggling to rebuild itself after the bloody Civil War. The United States was attempting to rise above its beginnings, but America was stuck in a paradox. H. Bruce Franklin talks about America's problem:
To become a world power, America would need both overseas colonies and a large peacetime navy. Indeed, these two were inseparable, for a military fleet was necessary to seize and hold colonies, and these colonies provided bases indispensable to maintaining such a fleet. The crucial question being debated was this: what were the consequences for the American republic and its democratic ideology, both founded in a revolution against imperialism and the standing armies indispensable to imperialism, if the nation were to rule overseas colonies and maintain a large, permanent, peacetime navy? (200)
This debate is waged symbolically between Billy Budd and Captain Vere. Billy symbolizes the belief that doing the right thing is all that is needed while Captain Vere believes that doing right was secondary to maintaining the control and sanctity of the Queen's Navy. In essence, Melville uses Billy as an allegory for the young United States trying to do what was right, while Captain Vere has all the characteristics of imperialism that Melville had detested all his life. Vere lives his life in fear of anyone going outside of the "rules" on which he has based his life.
The story foresees the consequences of unbridled militarism and imperialism, which ignores the rules of man not only in colonized lands, but also among the people forced to do the fighting and the colonizing. By going into the past to explore the consequences of the triumph of militarism and imperialism in England, it foreshadows the future, with the consequences of the triumph of militarism and imperialism in America. The story shows how a country can often be blinded by current events and not see the consequences of its actions. Wendell Glick talks about the repercussions of Vere's decision:
Having decided upon the absolute necessity for maintaining unweakened the strength of the social fabric, Melville shudders when he contemplates the price exacted in terms of human values; and Billy Budd became the balance-sheet upon which he reckoned the price men have to pay for the ordered society which they have to have. The most obvious price was the destruction of "Nature's Nobleman," the superlatively innocent person: every Billy Budd impressed by an Indomitable is forced to leave his Rights-of-Man behind. To the destruction of innocent persons, moreover, it was necessary to add the mental suffering of the individual forced to make moral judgements. (107)
The author is saying that Vere decided to sacrifice the good of humankind for the good of the military. Vere believes that the Naval Code is more important than the concepts of right and wrong. The names of the ships that Billy serves on are both allegories. The Indomitable is an allegory for something that is huge and awe inspiring. The Rights-of-Man symbolizes the smaller, more moral decision people often forget about. Billy journeys from ship to ship. The machinery of the Royal Navy traps Billy; he becomes a cog rather than a thinking human being. When Billy places his faith completely in the royal Navy his fate is sealed. No one must agree with everything that the country does. There should always be philosophical debate about current events. The leaders of a country will do whatever they want unless the common people watch out for their rights.
Franklin writes, " Vere's action, and his entire argument to his drumhead court, is based on a fear of an imminent mutiny. But we the readers of this 'inside narrative' never see the faintest hint of any such possibility. Discipline is only breached after Billy's execution" (204-205). Much like the character of Captain Queeg in Herman Wouk's The Caine Mutiny, Vere's rigid adherence to the letter of the Naval Code as he sees it is what ultimately leads to what he most fears: a mutiny. His very reliance on the rules dooms him.
After Claggart accuses Billy of attempted mutiny, Vere decides to confront the two men with each other in his cabin. There Billy, angered by the charge, confused and frustrated by his stammer, kills Claggart. Apparently Vere's purpose in bringing them together is to find out the truth. This plan does not make sense. Claggart would have accused, and Billy would have denied. Vere's decision is a result of his fear of mutiny.
Vere calls a court martial. During the trial the members of the court seem reluctant to hang Billy, and the Captain has to talk them into it. But it is hard to understand why Vere calls the court at all. What purpose does it serve? Is it called to guide him to a right decision? But Vere has already made his decision. In any case the court does not guide him; he guides the court. Perhaps he thinks the court will overrule him and release Billy. But Vere has reserved for himself the right of supervising the proceedings. Obviously all Vere wanted is to have on record a trial agreeing with his decision. Withim talks about the psyche of Captain Vere:
Stripped of verbiage, Vere is saying that men cannot think for themselves, that form and habit can control men as if they were no more than beasts. Vere, in an earlier passage, had thought to himself that Billy was a "'Kings Bargain,' that is to say, His Britannic Majesty's navy a capital investment at small outlay or none at all". In this light, Vere, far from being a wise man, balanced in his judgements and fair in his attitudes, is discovered to be narrow, literal, prejudiced, completely circumscribed by the needs of the navy, less compassionate than his officers, and lastly, guilty of that worst of naval sins, over-prudence. (84)
Vere's fear of losing control shapes his actions throughout the book. Vere shows that he would rather sacrifice innocence than give up control.
Franklin questions, "There is only one ambiguity about Vere: is he sane or mad? Insofar as the story focuses on Vere, it is the study of an apparently rational, humane man who can argue with learning, calm, and some plausibility that the most ethical course of action is to kill the most innocent and beloved person in your world to preserve the military law and order necessary for monarchy and empire" (207). Melville shows throughout the book that Vere is a careful man and that he is well read, well mannered, and basically a gentleman. Yet, slowly through the course of the story we see that sanity is a façade; twisted into Vere's thought patterns are the Naval Code--that archaic code that prizes obedience over all else. The very crew he is worried about mutinying is the same that holds Billy in such high regard. None except Claggart, whom he kills, had ever said anything unbecoming about Billy Budd. So by his actions, the "gentle" captain shows himself to be quite insane. This was obviously what Melville thought. He had always prized the heart over the head.
Captain Vere is of two minds throughout the story. His evil side is represented by the spectre of war in his communications with Claggart, and Billy represents his good side. Good and evil are always two sides of the same coin. Melville uses poetic concepts to illustrate humankind's values and morals. It is a tragedy that in the end Vere upholds Claggart's ideals and ignores Billy's values (Schiffman 53). Vere attempts to be portrayed as a just and moral man. But when it is not the easy way out, he chooses his duty over his heart.
Melville's prevailing style throughout his life was one of allegory and satire. He eschewed the straight narratives of many of his contemporaries. Yet Billy Budd shows a change in style. His weapon for his final attack on the social injustices of the time is his use of irony. In all other respects it is similar to his earlier works. It is a sea story, which was Melville's favorite genre. It is rich in historical detail and dealt with the "everyman." There is no upper class portrayed in his book, although the irony often lands in that same group. In Billy Budd his barbed comments often find their mark.