This is the first of three posts concerning three passages in the third section, “Children & Dissolution,” of the third chapter, “Ethics,” of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right, a book I reread this Christmas.
The passage:
The punishment of children does not aim at justice as such; the aim is more subjective and moral in character, i.e. to deter them from exercising a freedom still in the tolls of nature and to lift the universal into their consciousness and will.
The comment: My parents never beat me, a fact that I find troubling to this day. It’s troubling because it seems to indicate that their love for me was cold. Theirs was an arctic love. And I was in the strange situation of living in Africa with icy parents. Outside, a copper sun over the veld; inside, a frosty father and mother at the dinner table. It was not the same for my cousins. If they did something wrong or careless, their mother immediately and repeatedly beat them with a stick or rope. But in her wild swinging and shouting I saw the expression of a love that was on fire, a love for her boys that was as red as molten lava. Why did my parents not love me in this way? Love me to the extreme of a volcanic eruption of violence.
how many times do you beat your children?
Don’t take the bait!
A woman I knew years ago complained to my girlfriend at the time that she didn’t think her new boyfriend really loved her because he didn’t hit her when she got out of line.
Can true love exist without violence?
Passion does not equal love.
Yeah, Charles, is your love for your child “cold,” or do you beat her?
Charles, my first reaction to your post was to laugh and laugh. What other reaction could I have?
Good one, Charles! You should get close to 100 on this one.
Nothing can top the adopted child getting ran over in the driveway post.
Everyone in my family (African-American) talks fondly about my grandmother’s violent beatings. They have whole routines involving her ability to detect “looks” at the table and why such and such strategy would just make her angrier. I missed out because I’m the youngest of the grandkids and wasn’t beat myself.
Those of you talking about Charles’s daughter are missing the point on an epic scale.
To add to that, I was at my sister’s for Christmas this year and she spoils her kid. There was an epochal change and now no one still beats anyone. Amusingly the stories of beatings now substitute for beatings. As in: nephew rolls eyes at dinner table–>grandfather sternly recounts how eye rolling was once a paddling offense. This is not an effective form of punishment. Often as not the lecture is followed by a funny story about a particularly epic paddling.
Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes:
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases.
This reminds me of the South Park episode where Mr. Garrison is angry that his father never molested him.
@9, we aren’t missing the point from our perspective.
Perhaps instead of re-reading Hegel, you should read something from somebody who disagreed with him. Somebody who is not German, preferably.
Additionally, love and brutality are not the same, though I can understand why a person might think so. Particulally if that person is prone to confusion.
Additionally, yeah, nothing will ever top the brother-killed-adopted-sister post, though I admire your ongoing efforts.
Nappy for the incredibly insensitive English reference that imposes his French sensibilities upon a literate English-speaking public @11 win.
And a one-handed one at that!
Oh dear. There are counselors who can help you sort this out.
@9 The point isn’t how fondly people remember being beaten or how much Charles wishes he was, but that Charles seems to think beating your child is the only way to show a love that isn’t cold, and Charles has a daughter.
@9
Don’t give Charles any credence. Soon he will be claiming Hegel was in fact, a black man. Like Han Solo.
My grandmother beat the hell out of my mom. My mom spanked me, but only when she wasn’t angry. (If she was angry, she’d wait and punish me later when she was sure she wouldn’t hit too hard.) I don’t intend to use any kind of corporal punishment with my kids. (Frankly, I don’t intend to have kids at all!)
Did they beat the dog?
@4, i’m cold to the whole human race. i have never hit a person in my life.
@21
Milquetoast
So, my question would be – what are those other kids doing now? How have their lives turned out compared to yours? What influence did this “love” have on their lives?
A man I know told me the same thing about his parents and then asked me to whip him. A lot. Hard.
Charles, I love you to the point of wanting to smack you. Does that count?
I was never punished with hand or belt or cane. I was loved by mother and father and turned out sane.
@24 I was going to say something to that effect. The post sounds like a justification for some particularly violent kink.
My parents were both beaten, often severely. My mom had it a bit worse because she went to a very militant Catholic school (straight pins under wrists at piano lessons to keep their hands arched, etc.).
My dad used to hit me all the time, but it just taught me how to lie to him. My mom hit me once in a while, but when I was about twelve I explained to her that that didn’t actually help anything and that she was just using it to avoid talking about the issue. My dad threw me across a room in my late teens/early twenties and got really shocked when I -left-.
My sister was never hit, and is way more centered than I am.
I agree, Charles. Your parents didn’t beat you enough.
Mr. Mudede, I’ve been rolling my eyes at your writing for years now, but this really takes the cake. You, sir, are a fucking wanker.
Sort of agree with Charles – I had the best mom and dad in the world – perfect growing up in rural Bellevue.
They did the hard core swat or yardstick thing about three times in my childhood – I remember all three. I deserved a stern lesson, knew why, and feel that indeed they cared 100 per cent about me and my two sisters.
Few parents can do the job without some form of physical punishment, a butt wack or two being quite adequate.
Or you could look at it this way:
So sad, your parents were cold. Ah well–at least they didn’t beat you.