21st century homage to Eichmann

There are those who see dedication to duty as the essential characteristic that determines whether somebody is civilised or not. I'm not so sure.

A bifurcated mode of thinking about ethics and morality will tend to posit that there is either, in any person, a commitment to duty and work, or alternatively there is an antisocial character at large. But, common wisdom will proclaim, it is not possible for a fundamentally antisocial character to be committed to their socially expected duty, by any means. The character of Eichmann should have taught us otherwise - that an extreme commitment to duty can be mixed with an extremely antisocial disposition. But still, we are reluctant to learn, or all too ready to forget. We expect duty and the antisocial character to be at opposite poles from each other. We pronounce it so.

My father is one whom, it seems to me combines the two poles into one body, one personality. Perhaps in a sense we all do so (he only more extremely so). We all have drives -- the id -- and also a superego to manage those drives. Inbetween that, however, is the ego, which is sandwiched inbetween the internalised force demanding social duty and the perverse energies committed to bringing the drives into material expression.

My father is one in whom there is no inbetween state to mediate between the urges of the drives or the commands of superego. He is a man almost entirely without ego. Yet, he fulfils his social duties, working hard and taking heed of ceremony.

Underneath the force of superego, he is seething. There lies id, and avarice, and deep resentment that has been too long repressed. Suddenly, he will act on his instincts, and pronounce something -- either incoherent or cruel. He has no idea of what he's saying and tells himself he's not responsible for it. Superego is already punishing him for it, most probably, but he has reeled under its own particular cruelty for so long, that he can no longer bear to differentiate between one blow from superego or another. All the lashings he's received from superego all feel the same to him now. He is capable of learning nothing.

To speak to him, one will either encounter the competitive drives of id, seething at not being rewarded enough for endurance of life's hardships, or one will encounter his superego, representing him in a mode of uncertainty and deep self doubt. One does not, in fact, seem to encounter ego. Ego isn't home. So reason has no home in him, either. One cannot simply say to him, "I would prefer you didn't do this or that," as this will either trigger an intention to overwhelm you with sheer force, or will trigger superego, which will lash out, making him temporarily ashamed, but in such a way that he will soon forget the reason why he felt that way.

One deals with superego or one deals with the instinct and the drives, but all and all, there's no-one home.

And yet, this man is full of duty.