Ethical loneliness is the experience of being abandoned by humanity, compounded by the cruelty of wrongs not being heard. It is the result of multiple lapses on the part of human beings and political institutions that, in failing to listen well to survivors, deny them redress by negating their testimony and thwarting their claims for justice.
Jill Stauffer examines the root causes of ethical loneliness and how those in power revise history to serve their own ends rather than the needs of the abandoned. Out of this discussion, difficult truths about the desire and potential for political forgiveness, transitional justice, and political reconciliation emerge. Moving beyond a singular focus on truth commissions and legal trials, she considers more closely what is lost in the wake of oppression and violence, how selves and worlds are built and demolished, and who is responsible for re-creating lives after they are destroyed.
Stauffer boldly argues that rebuilding worlds and just institutions after violence is a broad obligation and that those who care about justice must first confront their own assumptions about autonomy, liberty, and responsibility before an effective response to violence can take place. In building her claims, Stauffer draws on the work of Emmanuel Levinas, Jean Améry, Eve Sedgwick, and Friedrich Nietzsche, as well as concrete cases of justice and injustice across the world.
This is an excellent book, focused on the effects of traumatic violence on individuals, how it causes them to lose trust in others, and how the way societies tend to deal with this violence does not effectively let these individuals feel they are being heard. But the book does much more than this. It more generally applies the moral philosophy of Emmanuel Levinas and other philosophers to situations where individuals have been violated, persecuted, or otherwise unjustly treated and traumatized, which includes most individuals. Most important, Stauffer takes the position that the rule of law is insufficient to deal with these problems, that we are not autonomous and should not carry our burdens alone, and that we are all responsible for creating conditions where repair is possible.
She writes, for example, “all liberty is the result of human interaction. And so we might reconsider law as a responsibility rather than a means to an abstract freedom. We will not achieve this if we rely on law or political institutions, ruling parties or leaders of any kind to do all the work for us.” And “the person whose world was left intact may need a bit of destruction of her own personal sovereignty—or a different telling of the story about it. This claim can’t be universalized in any simple way because we all carry with us varying amounts of damage and different levels of beliefs in our own autonomy.”
really useful reflections on the kinds of stories we're able to tell and willing to hear in the aftermath of violence, and what that means for processes of political and personal repair
Ethical loneliness is “the experience of having been abandoned by humanity compounded by the experience of not being heard”. So, how do /we/ console victims of ethical loneliness? Is there a mean for reparation? Can we console victims of grave harm? Is there a wrong way to listen?
This book answers these questions and more. If you are interested in understanding the process of abandonment, resentment and how it affects one as well as others, how much responsibility falls, not only on the perpetrator and the victim but also, on us, revisionary practices, and a bit of background on international law, then I recommend this.
“More of us should be more aware of the fragility of human safety—that we are all always at risk of misunderstanding, abandonment, and refusal of response—and be willing to work with others to build a world with a more equitable distribution of safety from within that vulnerable site.”
Deeply considered and thoughtful questioning of the assumptions we make about the possibilities of forgiveness and reconciliation. Highly relevant to our current moment in the USA of denying the past.
Excellent book! It ties together so many of the things I've been reading about the last few years: from Susan Brison's narrative about rape to Janoff-Bulman's shattered world theory, From Levinas to Nils Christie. A must-read for a victimologist/criminologist.
Incredibly intimate and accessible for a scholarly work. Transformed how I think about forgiveness, repair and responsibility in our larger society. Not an easy read but nonetheless a gift, and a must read for anyone interested in justice (hopefully everyone).
beautiful beautiful beautiful. and the best part about this is the accessibility! its not tailored to only a specific group of people but rather invites academics and non-academics alike into the conversation.
Very interesting book touching upon an idea usually neglected in research - the loneliness of crime survivors imposed upon them by the external world. Warmly recommend it.
Stauffer uses a range of case studies including South African Truth and Reconciliation transcripts and Holocaust tribunals, to investigate how political institutions fail to hear the testimonies of victims. By presenting the reader with the uncomfortable truth that oppression and violence are deeply personal experiences to their victims, Stauffer challenges our relationship to the past. Criminal procedures may ostensibly address wrongdoing, but they fail to truly listen to survivors and thus further compound their loneliness in a world that moves on without them. Ethical Loneliness is cross-disciplinary, drawing from fields of study such as existential phenomenology and literary criticism to present a theory of reparative justice that is accessible to readers without formal philosophical training. Stuaffer’s understanding of listening as a comprehensive requirement of justice is academic in its rigor but is also a call to action in the real world. She argues that we cannot leave justice to institutional procedures, as we all have an obligation to rebuild worlds that are demolished through violence and silencing. I love this book for its strong narrative voice, courage in challenging traditional international jurisprudence, and deeply empathetic connection to both humans and humanity. The writing is easy to follow, but uncomfortable to read – by design – and will unsettle any reader’s complacency in the wrongdoings of human history.