tigertoy

This evening's Living on Earth included a disturbing piece on lion meat (transcript with audio).

The Chicago area butcher involved in Operation Snowplow is apparently still in business and dealing in lion meat.  USDA regulations don't apply; the only government authority is basic FDA food safety stuff.

My knee jerk reaction is horror.  Eating a lion is "just wrong".  But I rail at other people who would ban things that I think are fine because they have no better reason than "it's just wrong".  I have some thoughts, but I can't make a complete rational statement on this right now.  I need to go to bed, so I can get up early tomorrow and take care of the animals that were seized in Operation Snowplow, because selling tiger meat is actually illegal.

The current law about derivative works is that distributing work which incorporates someone else's protected material is forbidden unless permission is explicitly granted.  Exactly what constitutes distribution is somewhat shifty, and exactly what is covered by copyright, what is considered fair use, and what is incidental is even more shifty, but I don't want to get sucked into those digressions.  What I'm on about tonight can be examined by looking at fan fiction.  Our corporate masters, the publishing and media companies, would have us believe that it is their prerogative, due to their copyright, to decide if fan fiction is allowed -- and, to say that by default it's not, and that if we commit the crime of using their worlds and characters as a starting point for our own creativity, they are fully justified in smiting us with the full force of their legal system (I say their, for they have bought and paid for it -- but I digress), and that even if they show mercy now and then, it's not something we have any right to expect.

I think my main point tonight has leaked through into the tone of the above.  I've wrestled a bit before with this monster of copyright as at applies to derivative works, but I was thinking about the issue this evening and my thoughts hit a bit of a sea change.  Previously, while I have always felt that the fanficcer creating new plot but re-using someone else's world and characters or the filker retelling someone else's story in a different medium were given short shrift for the human value of their creativity, I also felt that the original copyright holders had some of the right on their own side.  I had an insight tonight that makes me feel I was giving too much credit to the orthodox position.

Simply put, to deny the reader of a novel (or viewer of a movie, etc.) the right to create derivative work is to assert that they are not allowed to think and imagine about what they have read, but only to passively accept it.  Creativity is a fundamental to personhood; I aver that to give a damn about a work is to actually hold it in the mind and play with it, not merely looking at what is actually there, but to consider what might have been there.  At the same time, to deny that reader the right to share his derivative creation is another denial of personhood.  To create something with our imagination and then to share it with another is a fundamental expression of the quality of being more than animals.  Nothing we create is completely original; it all comes from a context of experience at some point.  And if the audience doesn't have at least some of the same context, sharing our work brings us no connection.  Thus, it seems to me, we cannot reject derivative creation such as fan fiction as less valid, as creation, simply because it takes more of its underlying context from a particular copyrighted source.

Bleah.  I started this entry thinking that I had a clear point I could state quickly, but it keeps growing more heads with each swat, I'm about out of hit points, and I need my LJ client for another post.

I heard on the BBC news just now that scientists using new-fangled brain scanning equipment have discovered that a woman in a persistent vegetative state is aware of her surroundings and can even respond to commands.  This is surprising, and does lead me to wonder how many people in such states actually still have a person inside the husk.  But what worries me is the likely reaction of the public.  I'm quite sure that most people will think that this discovery should lead us to be more aggressive about keeping their hearts beating and less ready to pull the plug.

Frankly, this horrifies me.  I don't know if it's that I have more imagination than most people, or just a different outlook on the world, but I think that being condemned to remain conscious trapped in a body that cannot move or communicate would be ghastly beyond belief.  I've long believed that if consciousness has departed never to return, the person is already dead even if their body is still maintaining homeostasis, and it's a foolish waste of valuable medical resources to keep it 'alive' -- but if these findings are born out, and it's found to be a common condition, I think it's even more important to terminate life support as soon as it's clear that the person isn't going to wake up.  I cannot accept keeping a loved one in a state I wouldn't wish on the most foul murderer as a moral act.  And I certainly hope that if I'm ever in such a state, someone will care enough about me to end my suffering -- and that they won't face criminal charges for it.

The one place I can agree with the "pro-life" lobby is that this finding does mean that removing the feeding tube from a vegetable* is not the right thing to do.  If there's someone alive inside there, starving them to death is cruel.  A large dose of IV potassium chloride is much more appropriate. 

*(Is it politically correct to call a human in a persistent vegetative state a vegetable?  Probably not, but do I care?)

The phrase and concept "the rule of law" seems to come up frequently in discussions these days, and it's usually interpreted, in a very loose reading, as saying "because we pride ourselves on living by the rule of law, we must always follow and enforce the exact letter of the law, even if the law was a bad idea".  In short, it is often implied, because we believe in the rule of law, any time someone breaks the law they must be punished for their crime, or we undermine the rule of law itself.

I've always been uncomfortable about this, but I've had trouble articulating my discomfort the right way.  A small, but to me significant, insight occurred to me a few minutes ago, which I will record for my own benefit and maybe yours too.

The rule of law should mean that any time someone breaks the letter of the law, they should have to answer for their transgression.  The facts should be considered, and the accused should explain his actions.  However, that does not mean that the accused should automatically be found guilty and punished.  In many real world cases, a person can actually break the letter of the law, and yet not merit punishment, if no harm was done or if circumstances offered justification.  The principle of the rule of law is not undermined by actually considering the particulars of each case; it is in fact strengthened.  To be called to answer for one's transgressions is not the same as to be called to pay for them, if we allow for the possibility that the accused could have a legitimate answer other than "I didn't do it".

I've had the feeling for a long time that the rule of law wasn't really such a good idea.  Better than not having any law, certainly, but not the be-all and end-all of government.  I would have said that what we call the rule of law is the starting point for a just society, not the end.  But when I recast it as I did above, I think it becomes something I can believe in wholeheartedly.

What follows are some thoughts that have been incubating in my subconscious for a few months.  I'm not sure that I'm prepared to express them profoundly or even clearly, but I need to try to say something.  It's been unusually hard for me to figure out how to approach writing this, but I'm going to take a swing at it now.

( some long ramblings on the ethics of prostitution )

As the drama of who outed Valerie Plame continues to slowly unfold, New York Times reporter Judith Merrill is spending her second night in jail for refusing to reveal her anonymous source.  In the discussion of her case, something came up that I find a new and chilling twist.  I first heard it explained in an NPR interview, but I've since heard it confirmed, with less explanation, in other reports.

( Why Judith Merrill is in jail tonight )

You don't have to be a terrorism suspect to be detained indefinitely without trial or charge.  All it takes is to be an ethical journalist with the guts to stand by your promises.  Doesn't that make you feel safe, secure, and full of civic pride?

In another forum, someone posted a link to this Seattle Times story about how the Army is building databases of people they want to recruit.  I mumbled the following, and for some reason I feel the need to cross post it here.

( Some political philosophy you're welcome to skip if you're not interested )

Earlier today the local public radio talk show had a guest who was discussing the subject of self-destructive behavior. The guest presented an argument from Kant. I haven't read Kant, so all I'm reacting to is what I caught of what the guest presented, which may not reflect on what Kant actually said. But the argument went something like this:

Because we as humans have the unique ability to reason, that makes us special. Because we're something special, we have an obligation to each other to be respectful of what we are; so when a person does something bad, even if they do it in private, they are shaming not only themselves but everyone.

I think the starting point is is a valid one. Our ability to reason makes us special, and we should hold onto that distinction. When one person does something shameful, it does diminish all of us. But what are the actions that bring shame on everyone? I think the shameful act is not the private sin that harms no one else, but rather denying another person the freedom to do the thing he wants to do only because it offends someone else's morals.

If you haven't been under a rock lately, you may have heard about the escaped tiger in Florida shot by the authorities.

This story stirred up discussion on an exotic cat mailing list I'm on, which brought up the subject of the current trend toward laws which ban ownership of tigers and other exotic cats. If I had a little more ambition or it weren't past my bedtime, I'd re-write it, but for now, I'm just going to post it as I wrote it there.

( The mailing list post, unedited )

I'm sure I need to polish my delivery a bit, but that's what I believe. Comments?