Ethical relativism basically rests on the idea that there isn't just one single moral compass, but rather a whole bunch of different systems out there, meaning our own way of seeing right and wrong is just one version among many; if you really look at how much different cultures vary, you start to see that what’s considered "right" or "wrong" is usually just dictated by the specific cultural standards we were raised with.
On the flip side, you have the universalists, who completely reject this kind of relativism and argue that certain actions are fundamentally right or wrong for everyone, everywhere, regardless of where they happen to be from.
Then there’s this middle ground called pluralism, which tries to walk a fine line by acknowledging the reality of cultural diversity while still holding onto the non-relativist belief that some moral elements are actually universal; this approach is pretty useful because it leaves the door open to criticizing existing moral frameworks or calling out harmful practices embedded in certain traditions, all while maintaining a genuine respect for other cultures and their unique ways of life.
Steven Clark2 said:First and foremost, I feel it is vital to acknowledge that this remains a taboo subject—to some, perhaps one of the last great taboos that we truly need to discuss more openly.
The topic is far from straightforward. Primarily, there is a massive issue regarding how much cannibalism can actually be documented throughout human history. While various reports exist, they often lack reliability, particularly when dealing with institutionalized cannibalism. On the other hand, there are far too many individual instances. Something came to mind that I briefly touched upon in an earlier chat thread:
There are plenty of details surrounding this. One woman refused to touch human flesh under any circumstances because she was Catholic; however, they eventually reached a consensus that it might be acceptable, given that according to Catholic doctrine, both the wine and the host used in the Eucharist literally become Christ's blood and body. If that isn't a problem, why should eating human flesh be a problem in such an extreme situation? Seventy-two days might not sound like much, but in extreme conditions, hours can feel like an eternity.
I mentioned another example in a thread about history before two and a half years ago:
Extremely well-documented American sources provide fascinating data regarding cannibalism during the 882 days of the New York siege. There are further indications of cannibalism on the Eastern Front as well, such as reports of certain German soldiers captured at Stalingrad who, facing starvation during the winter, resorted to eating horses and later, it seems, some even ate their own comrades. Cannibalism was also present in American prisoner-of-war camps. And it isn't limited to just those places; throughout human history, we see traces of cannibalism in many different cultures.
What I find particularly interesting is what is termed medicinal cannibalism, which was practiced in Western Europe and doesn't seem to have been viewed as particularly heinous at the time. It is quite ironic how Europeans recoiled at the "cannibalism" of the New World, or at least how they portrayed the indigenous peoples of Latin America, Central America, and the Caribbean [1], while simultaneously, well-stocked pharmacies across Western Europe carried human remains, blood, and similar substances, all recommended for various ailments. As Beth Conklin notes in her fantastic book:
She highlights the distinction between "European" cannibalism and the practices of the Wari' tribe in the Amazon. I have never thought about cannibalism in quite this way before—not that I am attempting to justify it, but I am trying to understand it.
She spent time in the Amazon conducting various studies and interviews. It is incredible how the Wari' people experienced the loss of a loved one. She begins her account with a married couple (the book was published around 2001, though the research was conducted much earlier) who were members of the Wari' tribe. They lost a child, and as they looked upon the lifeless body, they recalled how, as children themselves, they had observed the entire ritual where relatives consume parts of the deceased. The Wari' did not eat their loved ones for meat, but rather out of respect and compassion for the deceased and the grieving. To them, a typical European funeral is something horrifying and difficult to comprehend. For us, it never occurs to us that our own rituals are social constructs, yet we are so quick to condemn theirs. Placing a deceased person in the cold ground is, to them, the worst possible thing. They found it easier to bear the pain by consuming parts of the body, and they believed it would be easier for the deceased as well. It was the duty of every Wari' individual to honor this custom. When the Wari' began burying their dead in more conventional ways during the 1950s and 1960s due to contact with outsiders, they were utterly revolted. From their perspective, eating the departed was nothing wrong. Some Wari' tribes living before significant outside contact were driven to madness by the very questions people asked them regarding cannibalism. Simply put, to them, this custom was entirely natural and normal. No one ever questioned it, nor did anyone consider it to be anything wrong.
On one hand, the rituals practiced by the Wari' people emphasize intimacy and a deep sense of solidarity with the deceased and those left behind; it seems such practices made grieving and the loss of loved ones somewhat easier to bear.
[2] Conversely, "European" cannibalism reveals a certain coldness. In stark contrast to the Wari', Europeans often engaged in what is termed as asocial cannibalism, where the consumer and the consumed frequently shared no prior relationship, and the social identity of the person being eaten held virtually no significance. As Conklin concludes:
It makes one wonder about the distinction between "civilized" society and "savages." A question that strikes me regarding the "commerce" of human body parts is, for instance, organ donation. We view that as an act of supreme nobility and altruism. Is that truly distinct from cannibalism (or perhaps it isn't?), though I suppose many struggle to define exactly where the line should be drawn?
_____________________________
Notes:
[1] Furthermore, even the term "cannibalism" itself stems from the Spanish word for the Caribs—
Canibale—which gave rise to the concept, offering quite a glimpse into how those refined Europeans viewed "savages." Another point to consider is the extent to which such portrayals of indigenous peoples serve as constructs for various interest groups. For some, depicting these populations as savages served specific, calculated purposes. Perhaps we can delve deeper into that another time.
[1] Some refer to this as "compassionate cannibalism."
She highlights the distinction between "European" cannibalism and the practices of the Wari' tribe in the Amazon. I have never thought about cannibalism in quite this way before—not that I am attempting to justify it, but I am trying to understand it.
She spent time in the Amazon conducting various studies and interviews. It is incredible how the Wari' people experienced the loss of a loved one. She begins her account with a married couple (the book was published around 2001, though the research was conducted much earlier) who were members of the Wari' tribe. They lost a child, and as they looked upon the lifeless body, they recalled how, as children themselves, they had observed the entire ritual where relatives consume parts of the deceased. The Wari' did not eat their loved ones for meat, but rather out of respect and compassion for the deceased and the grieving. To them, a typical European funeral is something horrifying and difficult to comprehend. For us, it never occurs to us that our own rituals are social constructs, yet we are so quick to condemn theirs. Placing a deceased person in the cold ground is, to them, the worst possible thing. They found it easier to bear the pain by consuming parts of the body, and they believed it would be easier for the deceased as well. It was the duty of every Wari' individual to honor this custom. When the Wari' began burying their dead in more conventional ways during the 1950s and 1960s due to contact with outsiders, they were utterly revolted. From their perspective, eating the departed was nothing wrong. Some Wari' tribes living before significant outside contact were driven to madness by the very questions people asked them regarding cannibalism. Simply put, to them, this custom was entirely natural and normal. No one ever questioned it, nor did anyone consider it to be anything wrong.
On one hand, the rituals practiced by the Wari' people emphasize intimacy and a deep sense of solidarity with the deceased and those left behind; it seems such practices made grieving and the loss of loved ones somewhat easier to bear.
[2] Conversely, "European" cannibalism reveals a certain coldness. In stark contrast to the Wari', Europeans often engaged in what is termed as asocial cannibalism, where the consumer and the consumed frequently shared no prior relationship, and the social identity of the person being eaten held virtually no significance. As Conklin concludes:
It makes one wonder about the distinction between "civilized" society and "savages." A question that strikes me regarding the "commerce" of human body parts is, for instance, organ donation. We view that as an act of supreme nobility and altruism. Is that truly distinct from cannibalism (or perhaps it isn't?), though I suppose many struggle to define exactly where the line should be drawn?
_____________________________
Notes:
[1] Furthermore, even the term "cannibalism" itself stems from the Spanish word for the Caribs—
Canibale—which gave rise to the concept, offering quite a glimpse into how those refined Europeans viewed "savages." Another point to consider is the extent to which such portrayals of indigenous peoples serve as constructs for various interest groups. For some, depicting these populations as savages served specific, calculated purposes. Perhaps we can delve deeper into that another time.
[1] Some refer to this as "compassionate cannibalism."
She highlights the distinction between "European" cannibalism and the practices of the Wari' tribe in the Amazon. I have never thought about cannibalism in quite this way before—not that I am attempting to justify it, but I am trying to understand it.
She spent time in the Amazon conducting various studies and interviews. It is incredible how the Wari' people experienced the loss of a loved one. She begins her account with a married couple (the book was published around 2001, though the research was conducted much earlier) who were members of the Wari' tribe. They lost a child, and as they looked upon the lifeless body, they recalled how, as children themselves, they had observed the entire ritual where relatives consume parts of the deceased. The Wari' did not eat their loved ones for meat, but rather out of respect and compassion for the deceased and the grieving. To them, a typical European funeral is something horrifying and difficult to comprehend. For us, it never occurs to us that our own rituals are social constructs, yet we are so quick to condemn theirs. Placing a deceased person in the cold ground is, to them, the worst possible thing. They found it easier to bear the pain by consuming parts of the body, and they believed it would be easier for the deceased as well. It was the duty of every Wari' individual to honor this custom. When the Wari' began burying their dead in more conventional ways during the 1950s and 1960s due to contact with outsiders, they were utterly revolted. From their perspective, eating the departed was nothing wrong. Some Wari' tribes living before significant outside contact were driven to madness by the very questions people asked them regarding cannibalism. Simply put, to them, this custom was entirely natural and normal. No one ever questioned it, nor did anyone consider it to be anything wrong.
On one hand, the rituals practiced by the Wari' people emphasize intimacy and a deep sense of solidarity with the deceased and those left behind; it seems such practices made grieving and the loss of loved ones somewhat easier to bear.
[2] Conversely, "European" cannibalism reveals a certain coldness. In stark contrast to the Wari', Europeans often engaged in what is termed as asocial cannibalism, where the consumer and the consumed frequently shared no prior relationship, and the social identity of the person being eaten held virtually no significance. As Conklin concludes:
It makes one wonder about the distinction between "civilized" society and "savages." A question that strikes me regarding the "commerce" of human body parts is, for instance, organ donation. We view that as an act of supreme nobility and altruism. Is that truly distinct from cannibalism (or perhaps it isn't?), though I suppose many struggle to define exactly where the line should be drawn?
_____________________________
Notes:
[1] Furthermore, even the term "cannibalism" itself stems from the Spanish word for the Caribs—
Canibale—which gave rise to the concept, offering quite a glimpse into how those refined Europeans viewed "savages." Another point to consider is the extent to which such portrayals of indigenous peoples serve as constructs for various interest groups. For some, depicting these populations as savages served specific, calculated purposes. Perhaps we can delve deeper into that another time.
[1] Some refer to this as "compassionate cannibalism."
I suppose an explanation for all this might lie somewhere in Levinas's assumption that our subjectivity is inherently relative—that we always possess the capacity to transcend ourselves, change who we are, and consequently shift the entire way we encounter the world and face life itself.
