Live and Let Live?

In the last Microphilosophy, I wrote about the problems of insisting that bad behaviour should not be allowed to go unchallenged. Very soon after the frightening incident that provoked those thoughts, I had a less aggressive encounter with a neighbour whose music was keeping us awake past midnight. It was blasting out from his garden party but when I suggested this was anti-social, he told me that he’d lived there for 15 years, never made any noise before (unlike another mutual neighbour), it was his fiftieth birthday and he was going to enjoy it. ‘Live and let live,’ he told me, as though I was the Stasi.

When I reported back to my better half, she said ‘Exactly. Why can’t he let us live our lives in peace?’
‘Live and let live’ is an attractive, tolerant sounding principle. But my neighbour’s application of it shows that it’s also a slippery one. At its best, it expresses a mutuality in which we each allow each other to get on with our lives without undue interference, neither imposing our wills on others or having theirs imposed on us. At its worst, it means: let me live my life the way I want to, and damn the consequences for you.

At the risk of sounding like an old fart, I worry that the latter version of the principle now has the upper hand. Before the pandemic I took a lot of trains and my pet peeve was people shouting into their cellphones, leaking tinny drumbeats from their headphones, or simply watching videos through speakers. It seemed that people thought their right to do what they wanted trumped other people’s rights not to have it inflicted on them. Similarly, it is now normal for people in parks to play music through a powerful speaker at a volume which means everyone around has to hear it.

Any reasonable norm of reciprocity should make it obvious that this kind of behaviour is wrong. If you should be free to listen to music, I should be free not to. If I read silently, I do not stop you listening to music, as long as you keep it to yourself. But if you play your music so I can hear it, you stop me enjoying the quiet.

Against that, it might be objected that what we can reasonably expect from each other is socially and culturally variable. For example, in some cultures, it is fully expected that people will play music in the gardens and though open windows and no one would think of complaining. The idea that this is inconsiderate is not a moral universal but a social norm. Could it simply be that ideas of what is social acceptable are shifting and I’m just a dinosaur not keeping up? I might not like it, but today live and let live requires allowing people to make a fair bit of noise.

Perhaps. But the very fact that this question can be asked highlights the way in which ‘live and let live’ is in itself close to an empty principle. It rules out the kind of moralistic policing of everything people do in their private lives is. But when our actions are public and have effects on others, it doesn’t tell us what exactly should and should not be ‘let’.

For example, does live and let live mean people should be allowed to keep farm animals in inhumane conditions? Should they be able to slap their children? View violent pornography? Use manipulative methods to sell products or services? Burn particulate-generating wood to heat their homes?

‘Live and let live’ doesn’t even begin to give us answers to these questions. It simply glosses over the more basic question that as a society we have to agree on what acceptable living requires. Once we have agreed that, ‘live and let live’ is just a catchy way of saying that the same rules should apply to everyone. When people like my neighbour use the mantra as a way of telling others to back off, what they’re usually saying is ‘I know how I want to live and I don’t want you questioning that.’ It’s egotistic individualism masquerading as principle. And I’m sure we could find plenty of other examples of that.

Any Other Business
It seems like I’m spinning plates and the idea that one day I’ll manage my time well enough to feel like I’m on top of things is a fantastical joke. I’m writing this newsletter late so forgive me if I leave out my usual round up of links and news, except to say that I continue to host the Royal Institute of Philosophy podcast Thinking Hard and Slow, ‘Mind-expanding long-form philosophy talks and discussions that are both rigorous and accessible.’ The latest episodes are Rendering Trauma Audible with María del Rosario Acosta López and Systemic, Structural, and Institutional Injustice with Sally Haslanger.

I’ll also include the usual reminder that if you buy books online, you can avoid the tax-dodging giant and buy through my affiliate shop which gives 10% to independent bookshops and 10% to me.

That’s it for now. If you’d like to receive these fortnightly newsletters direct to your inbox, sign up below. Until next time, if nothing prevents, thanks for your interest.