Does the origin of ethics lie not in the works of great thinkers and religious leaders but rather in vanity? Let’s turn a mirror on this.
Vanity runs deeply into the past of our hominin branch. At Blombos Cave in South Africa, 75,000-year-old Stone Age perforated Nassarius shells probably once lined a necklace. And then there’s the matter of tattoos, the earliest appearing on the body of the Iceman, who lived about 5,200 years ago. Ornamentation? Vanity?
Yes, there’s another argument: The shells and tattoos represent symbolic expression like a Lascaux cave painting, but nothing definitely philosophical or theological. Nevertheless, as symbols or art they are exciting indicators of thinking and behavior similar to that of modern humans. In our own times we bedeck ourselves with embellishments that, even if only slightly, are expressions of vanity. Think not? Don’t dress appropriately for your next social occasion.
If you have an ornament, you have a place to keep it. In your home the ornament goes on something special, a mantel, a Christmas tree, or a curio shelf. You also wear ornaments, making your body a special place, and you associate ornaments with a place, such as the ears for earrings and wrists for bracelets and watches. By wearing ornamentation, you embellish what you are with gold, silver, and gems. You might even wear a necklace of shells. Vanity?
Apparently, Homo sapiens wasn’t the first group of hominins to make and wear ornaments. We now know this because of a discovery that Neandertals (Neanderthals) also had ornaments. The recent discovery of 130,000 year-old eagle talons that appear to have been strung together indicates an order of thinking not usually associated with this group of hominins. It might indicate that Neandertals could be vain.
“No,” you say, “not vain, rather artistic. We don’t know whether or not the talons were merely hung by the cave entrance the way people today hang wreaths on doors or put welcome mats on their porches.”
Okay, maybe you’re right. Necklaces and tattoos aren’t necessarily a sign of vanity, but, then, both are forms of ornamentation, both forms of adornment. Even a wreath on a door acts to call attention to the residence and, by association, to its residents. You don’t have to concede that ornamentation is a manifestation of vanity, but you might have to concede that necklaces and tattoos are a manifestation of self-consciousness in the form of enhanced or heightened self-expression. Anyway, you’re probably asking how all this ornamentation stuff ties to ethics.
First, don’t misunderstand me. I’m for self-expression. I’m for self-consciousness, even in a so-called “Me Generation” that captures its life in Selfies. In truth, I believe that even such ancient ornamentations as the talons and shells make an argument for the connection between vanity and ethics. If you grant there is such a thing as embellishment for self-expression, then you acknowledge the significance of Self, if only for the self-embellisher. Acknowledging the significance of one “Self” doesn’t necessitate an acknowledgement that any “self” can have significance, but it doesn’t eliminate potential significance. When there are many “selves” in a group of hominins, then more than one self has the potential for self-expression through embellishment. That any individual in a group acknowledges the embellishment on another or elicits from another an acknowledgement is an indication of, if not actual, then at least feigned respect. One more time: The process of acknowledgement of another’s vanity is an obeisance to societal rules and practices, in short, to the rudiments of an ethical system.
Ethics is at heart based on the value of self as respected by both the individual and other selves. Our ancestors might have been vain, but in talons and shells on a string they left evidence that some kind of respect for individuals arose from the practice of ornamentation.
Vanity runs deeply into the past of our hominin branch. At Blombos Cave in South Africa, 75,000-year-old Stone Age perforated Nassarius shells probably once lined a necklace. And then there’s the matter of tattoos, the earliest appearing on the body of the Iceman, who lived about 5,200 years ago. Ornamentation? Vanity?
Yes, there’s another argument: The shells and tattoos represent symbolic expression like a Lascaux cave painting, but nothing definitely philosophical or theological. Nevertheless, as symbols or art they are exciting indicators of thinking and behavior similar to that of modern humans. In our own times we bedeck ourselves with embellishments that, even if only slightly, are expressions of vanity. Think not? Don’t dress appropriately for your next social occasion.
If you have an ornament, you have a place to keep it. In your home the ornament goes on something special, a mantel, a Christmas tree, or a curio shelf. You also wear ornaments, making your body a special place, and you associate ornaments with a place, such as the ears for earrings and wrists for bracelets and watches. By wearing ornamentation, you embellish what you are with gold, silver, and gems. You might even wear a necklace of shells. Vanity?
Apparently, Homo sapiens wasn’t the first group of hominins to make and wear ornaments. We now know this because of a discovery that Neandertals (Neanderthals) also had ornaments. The recent discovery of 130,000 year-old eagle talons that appear to have been strung together indicates an order of thinking not usually associated with this group of hominins. It might indicate that Neandertals could be vain.
“No,” you say, “not vain, rather artistic. We don’t know whether or not the talons were merely hung by the cave entrance the way people today hang wreaths on doors or put welcome mats on their porches.”
Okay, maybe you’re right. Necklaces and tattoos aren’t necessarily a sign of vanity, but, then, both are forms of ornamentation, both forms of adornment. Even a wreath on a door acts to call attention to the residence and, by association, to its residents. You don’t have to concede that ornamentation is a manifestation of vanity, but you might have to concede that necklaces and tattoos are a manifestation of self-consciousness in the form of enhanced or heightened self-expression. Anyway, you’re probably asking how all this ornamentation stuff ties to ethics.
First, don’t misunderstand me. I’m for self-expression. I’m for self-consciousness, even in a so-called “Me Generation” that captures its life in Selfies. In truth, I believe that even such ancient ornamentations as the talons and shells make an argument for the connection between vanity and ethics. If you grant there is such a thing as embellishment for self-expression, then you acknowledge the significance of Self, if only for the self-embellisher. Acknowledging the significance of one “Self” doesn’t necessitate an acknowledgement that any “self” can have significance, but it doesn’t eliminate potential significance. When there are many “selves” in a group of hominins, then more than one self has the potential for self-expression through embellishment. That any individual in a group acknowledges the embellishment on another or elicits from another an acknowledgement is an indication of, if not actual, then at least feigned respect. One more time: The process of acknowledgement of another’s vanity is an obeisance to societal rules and practices, in short, to the rudiments of an ethical system.
Ethics is at heart based on the value of self as respected by both the individual and other selves. Our ancestors might have been vain, but in talons and shells on a string they left evidence that some kind of respect for individuals arose from the practice of ornamentation.
RSS Feed