The Knight (Canterbury Tales)
I don’t think what we blurt out in the moment is necessarily more honest than what we say after careful reflection.
I think (and I’m of course not alone here) that there is a growing push for authenticity in our discourse: the idea that there is some amorphous, absolute truth within our individual beings, and that (ideally) anything we say and do should be as clear a reflection of that truth as possible. The celebration of this concept can lead to impulsive behavior, understandably, because things said or done ‘in the moment,’ without reflection, are commonly considered more genuine and certainly seen as more authentic. ‘In vino veritas‘ is a good example of this: that the removal of, or abstention from, forethought means that what we say and do must necessarily be more honest.
But I only think that’s true for that specific second.
I’ll use “I love you” as an easily accessible example. I think it is a commonly experienced or at least commonly understood phenomenon, for someone to say “I love you” to another person, in all honesty, only to have that feeling change shortly thereafter. And sure, “I love you” was true in that second it was said, but if it’s untrue the next minute or even the next hour, what good is it to anyone who hears it?
And for that matter, if you can love someone enough to say it, and then not love someone enough to say it a day later, or even a month later, then what value does this inherent Truth within you really have?
You might argue with this example: if someone says “I love you,” then immediately changes their mind, then clearly they weren’t really in love to begin with. But if that’s the case, that just furthers my point: things said in the moment are not necessarily more true, and may in fact be less true, than things said and done after reflection.
I think things that continue to be true after some reflection, after consideration and time, are more valuable and more meaningful, and certainly more useful.
This is an obvious gray area. You can’t very well wait your whole life to say or do something, just to make sure it’s absolutely true. But on the flip side, doing everything in the moment because you feel it is an extraordinarily selfish exercise that could easily lead to nihilistic sociopathy (as long as we’re following ideas to their extremes, that is).
And that’s just it: in-the-moment authenticity is morally easy. It’s as extreme as you can comfortably get, so you don’t have to weigh and consider the subtleties of every thing you say and do. Like moral absolutism, it’s intellectually un-challenging; maybe not lazy, but certainly in the same neighborhood.
The Pardoner (Canterbury Tales)
So sure, saying and doing things in the moment is more exciting and more romantic, but it’s also more selfish: unless you luck out and those things you feel continue to be true for some useful stretch of time. And I suppose there’s a time and place for that sort of egoism, but I try to come down on the side of things that is less potentially hurtful to others.
This reminds me of Richard III:
“And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain,
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.”
It’s certainly more romantic and impressive to be a monster when you cannot be a hero, but it is far more considerate and (to my mind) heroic to be nothing at all, to be nuanced and aware of others. It would be great to be a hero, and it’s very unfair that not everyone gets to be one, but that hardly justifies being a monster. Unless, of course, you live in the moment.
It’s sometimes terrifying to me, the thought that I could be getting more out of this life, the only life I get, if only I dared to do more. And if there is only this one life, and no consequences for our actions outside of it, then why shouldn’t I do whatever it takes to get what I want? But those dares require that I hurt other people, that I rob them of their agency, and I’m just not willing to do that.
Most sociopaths are very successful. The rest of us have to deal with the vagaries of humanity.