I am working on a paper on
autonomy. Here are some preliminary
reflections.
This essay concerns the
biological origins of human autonomy and thus involves the intersection of
biology and political science. My point
of departure is the assumption that the two fields of inquiry are
interdependent. It is not possible to
fully understand human autonomy, individual or collective, without
understanding its biological origins. Likewise,
to recognize that genuine autonomy emerges from the evolutionary history of
life on earth is to understand how metaphysically robust the phenomenon of life
really is. This approach avoids both
reductionism and any hint of vitalism; it allows biology and the human things
to reveal themselves for what they are in the context of the natural world as a
whole.
One thing that the Socratic
philosophers understood better than their modern counterparts is that the
possibility of science rests on the assumption that human intelligence (or
Nous, as the Greeks called it) operates on the same principles by which nature
is ordered; otherwise, nature is forever unintelligible. Accordingly, I begin with a consideration of
the intelligible meaning of the word autonomy.
The philosopher Ernst Mayr
famously argued that biology is an autonomous science. He meant by that not that biology contradicts
or is free from the principles of physics, but that biology has more principles
than physics. I take that as the first
clue that autonomy emerges as a space between two realms of laws. This turns out to reflect the history of the
term.
The term autonomy is a classical Greek word built on two important roots. Auto
means self, as in Socrates himself. It is a very basic word that functions both
as a pronoun (him or it) and as an adjective, as in autoagathos, which means “good in itself”.
The second root word is nomos.
This word is usually translated as “law.” Like a lot of Greek words, it is borrowed
from an earlier use. It originally meant
an enclosed pasture. A nomos was
boundary imposed by human beings that confined the movement of herd animals but
allowed them to move freely (according to their own natural laws) within that
boundary. It was adopted to indicate
both explicit, codified law and the unwritten moral rules that bound the
citizens together into a polis. I am pretty sure that Nietzsche’s phrase
“herd instinct” derives from this Greek root.
Herodotus uses the term when he
describes the history of the Medes. When
they threw off the rule of the Assyrians, they achieved autonomy. They later lost it when they allowed a man
known for his fair judgment to establish a tyranny over them.
Herodotus 1.95 [2] Ἀσσυρίων ἀρχόντων τῆς ἄνω Ἀσίης ἐπ᾽ ἔτεα εἴκοσι καὶ πεντακόσια, πρῶτοι ἀπ᾽ αὐτῶν Μῆδοι ἤρξαντο ἀπίστασθαι,
καὶ κως οὗτοι περὶ τῆς ἐλευθερίης
μαχεσάμενοι
τοῖσι Ἀσσυρίοισι ἐγένοντο ἄνδρες ἀγαθοί, καὶ ἀπωσάμενοι τὴν δουλοσύνην ἐλευθερώθησαν.
μετὰ δὲ τούτους καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ἔθνεα ἐποίεε τὠυτὸ τοῖσι Μήδοισι. 96. [1] ἐόντων δὲ αὐτονόμων πάντων ἀνὰ τὴν ἤπειρον,
ὧδε αὖτις ἐς
τυραννίδα περιῆλθον.
The Assyrians ruled Upper Asia for five hundred and twenty
years, and from them the Medes were the first who made revolt. These having
fought for their freedom with the Assyrians proved themselves good men, and
thus they pushed off the yoke of slavery from themselves and were set free; and
after them the other nations also did the same as the Medes: and when all on
the continent were thus independent,
they returned again to despotic rule as follows:--
Thucydides uses the same term
to indicate the self-government of Greek cities and Xenophon follows suit when
he continues the history of the war between the Athenians and the
Spartans.
Xenophon also uses the term in
his Republic of the Lacedaimonians to indicate the practice in most Greek
cities of emancipating children when they become adults. They are then allowed to be autonomous, which
means that they are self-governed with respect to their own families.
Xenophon, The Republic
of the Lacedaimonians, 3.1 Ὅταν γε
μὴν ἐκ
παίδων εἰς τὸ
μειρακιοῦσθαι ἐκβαίνωσι,
τηνικαῦτα οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι
παύουσι μὲν ἀπὸ
παιδαγωγῶν, παύουσι
δὲ ἀπὸ
διδασκάλων, ἄρχουσι δὲ οὐδένες ἔτι αὐτῶν, ἀλλ’ αὐτονόμους ἀφιᾶσιν·
When a boy ceases to be a child, and begins to be a lad,
others release him from his moral tutor and his schoolmaster: he is then no
longer under a ruler and is allowed to go his own way.
This does not mean, of course,
that the young adult is free from the laws of his city; it does mean that he is
in some sense free within the bounds of those laws.
Autonomy then
literally means “self-law”. It indicated
both individual and communal independence: a person or a political community
that lived under its own laws. A political
community is free when it is free from the authority of other communities and
lords. A man enjoyed autonomy when he
could act of his own free will.
However, and more revealing, a poet
enjoys autonomy when he exercises poetic license and an animal enjoys autonomy to
the extent that it can range freely.
Poetic license frees the poet from some convention but it frees him to
institute boundaries of his own. Without
boundaries, his poetry cannot have meaning, as all meaning binds. An animal that ranges
freely will nonetheless range within a boundary set by its nature. It will not go where there is likely to be neither
food nor mates nor comfort, but it will turn aside on its own and not for any
fence.
The idea of autonomy extends
along three dimensions. One opens up a
space between the natural laws of animal instinct and the artificial boundaries
imposed by human husbandry. The second opens
a space between some human community and a larger community seeks authority
over it. The third opens between the
individual human being and some larger human community of which he or she is a member.
Autonomy means liberty rather
than freedom. Freedom is freedom
from. It is simple release. Liberty is self-government, which is to say,
self-legislation. The topic of this
essay is the biological origin of that space within which autonomy is
possible. I will argue that this space
opens up with the emergence of human beings as moral and political animals.
We were social animals before
we became human animals. Social animals
must learn to live together. In a harem
species, this is achieved by the dominion of an alpha male whose rule, while he
rules, is unchallenged. In our own
species, like our chimpanzee cousins, the position of the dominant individual
was never so secure. Our ancestors
evolved into self-legislating creatures.
We were able to internalize rules that allowed us to live within the
group but that also allowed the group to resist the domination of would-be
tyrants. We needed to cooperate, as
cooperation was the key to social power.
At the same time, cooperation opens up the possibility of cheating and
exploitation. These tensions open the
space for human autonomy.