“Everyone” was playing Dominion,
a strategy board game. The rules are too complicated for me. The
group inviting me to play seemed puzzled by my refusal: “I don't
have fun playing those [strategy] games. The rules are too
complicated.”
Maybe
the purpose of rules is to break them; hang in there with me! This
platitude is a saying (in a Heideggerian sense I mean) that deserves
consideration, and the answer, “rules hinder efficiency because
they are not perfect” is emphatically not what I'm going to get at.
Breaking
a rule is not just an act of freedom, it
is an act that opens up freedom for others. When one cannot follow
the rules, whether because one doesn't know them, believes them to be
unfair or nonsensical – or because they are impossible to follow –
one has no choice but to become open to the possibility of performing
as one would like to: to express preference, to engage in questioning
and/or critique, to seek out help or clarification. I'm reading Karl
Jaspers' chapter on communication, in his Philosophy,
which led me to wonder.
At a
pharmacy, there may be a sign that has words written on it, like, “Go
no farther toward the counter until called.” The sign is a command
without justification – and without expressed consequences; it is a
command to obey “or else.” Or else what? The freedom of the
pharmacist, and of the patient, become possible, once an impatient or
curious patient goes beyond the sign without permission, in a way
they are not if the patient obeys the command with little besides the
ubiquitous “or else” attached to it; new possibilities of
expression, human relation, and shared understanding open up for
both.
Try
it! It doesn't have to be a pharmacy. Establish rapport with someone
behind the counter, obey the sign the first time, when dropping off a
prescription, an order.
When picking it up – and it may not be advisable to do what I'm
recommending in this paragraph – you can step beyond the sign,
enough to have disobeyed it. Someone will admonish you for breaking
the rules, almost certainly, verbally or some other way. Society
becomes commerce – “or else.”
Without
rules, we might not be able to exist as the “advanced” society
(relatively advanced, technologically) we make up, in a mid-sized or
small US city. I expect this post to be relevant to most people in
the US. No god made these rules. In systems of rules, we often
encounter the boundary line demarcating the transition from human
rationality to human communication in the existential sense Jaspers
discusses. It is up to all involved to decide what to do next.
What
was I saying in “The rules are too complicated?” Any number of
things. When a board game has complex rules, are we pushed toward
each other more than in games with simpler rules? Was I expecting
disappointment at the prospect of what I thought would happen were we
to run up against my breaking the rules of the game? There are many
ways to play games, not all of them conducive to genuine human
relation.
Rules
are (sometimes) meant to be broken in order to push us toward each
other as human beings and then to relate to each other in a space of
free communion. This did not happen for me at the pharmacy; and it
did. The man behind the counter, with whom I'd established rapport,
treated me well; the pharmacist or technician behind glass
did not.
I
encountered a person who chose what actions and what form of human
relation would fill in that unspoken, ubiquitous “or else.” I did
not discover the game players' “or else.” What might it have
been? What do we avoid
when we accept the commands without asking, in effect, “or else
what?”
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