Love and the Study of HumanityOne
can well see why the "Human Potential" movement turned to
what was previously strictly religious sources; and why humanistic
Psychology and Sociology rapidly become "cluttered" by religious
and value considerations. Any
attempt to deal with man as man -- to conceive of psychology
and sociology humanistically -- must enter the field of practical religion.
This
is not a new approach. It
was the genius of August Comte that he insisted that a Science of Man
meant a Religion of Humanity. If
we explore love seriously, then we must also come to this startling
realization. Love is related to the effort to change
the world the very cornerstone on which Comte wished to found Sociology. Following Agape, he sought to move outward
to all of humanity. As
Becker (1964) wrote,
. . . August Comte, who coined the word 'sociology,'....was to be the towering theorist of the 'emerging' society... His life's work is normally considered to fall into two distinct phases: the first work was a treatise on all sciences, putting forth the striking proposal that sociology followed logically in the history of the development of the sciences... The second work enunciated the 'Religion of Humanity' based on love: in the new community, sociology would subserve the social order and be used to promote social interest instead of the private interest that was rampant...
...Admirers of Comte based their admiration on the first work, and considered that the second work was done in the grip of dementia or senility. Often, they explicitly indict Comte's love affair with Clotilde de Vaux. We shall return to the reasoned and necessary unity of Comte's system; suffice it to say for now that, contrary to the opinion of many superficial commentators, Comte was well aware of what he was doing -- the two 'phases' of his work were an integrated whole. The first period was a systematization that he undertook on a positivistic, scientific basis to avoid the charges of mysticism which he knew might be leveled against his guiding ideas. The second period was a frank predication of his life work on feeling, love, and morality, which he felt were the basis for his whole position. (pp. 43-44).
If
we study man as man and refuse to relegate the humanistic vision to
some smaller system, some interesting things emerge. If we begin to formulate a Humanistic Sociology by focusing
on love as the central force in the creation of meaning in man's existence,
we find the going difficult for we are forced to the boundaries of
our normal way of perceiving.
In
The Phenomenon of Man, Teilhard de Chardin (i359) began with the following
statement:
. . . what conclusions are forced upon us, when man is placed fairly and squarely within the framework of phenomenon and appearance . . . Seeing. We might say that the whole of life is in that verb -- if not in end, at least in essence. Fuller being is closer union; such is the kernel and conclusion of this book. But let us emphasize the point: union can only increase through an increase in consciousness, that is to say in vision . . . . to try to see more and better is not a matter of whim or curiosity or self-indulgence. To see or to perish is the very condition laid upon everything that makes up the universe, by reason of the mysterious gift of existence. And this, in superior measure, is man's condition.
But if it is true that it is so vital and so blessed to know, let us ask again why we are turning our attention particularly to man . . . Is it not precisely one of the attractions of science that it rests our eyes by turning them away from man (p. 31)? [Italics Original]
Yet,
if we wish to understand love and humanistic efforts, we cannot rest
our eyes for long. If we desire love and closer, fuller union then
we must turn back to those hazy regions where Self faces Other and
confronts life. For "Man, the centre of perspective,
is at the same time the centre of construction of the universe. And by expediency no less than by necessity,
all science must be referred back to him" (Teilhard de Chardin, 1959, . 33). [Italics
Original]
In
many ways love is an intimacy with Self, with Other, and ultimately
with Life: a way of Knowing. We must bridge the distance.
Psychological and Sociological Approaches to LoveAlthough
organized sociology and psychology have not followed Comte nor Chardin's
vision on a discipline-wide basis, there have been some important exceptions. These attempts allow us to expand
our knowledge as we explore a definition of love. Other attempts have not dealt explicitly with love but contribute
to our understanding of love.
Warmoth
(1981) commented that three of the major theories in psychology have
really concerned love: Freud was the master of the study of Eros; Adler's writings on will actually framed
a theory of narcissism or self-love; and Carl Rogers presented the stance of the unconditional
love of Agape.
We
might approach a definition of love by noting the various components
which the social disciplines have associated with love. Often writers will find that approaching love directly is
too hazy and will switch their terms. Thus
instead of studying love, they will write about something they feel
is correlated with love but less difficult to understand. They will write on growth, trust, or
self-actualization. Others
will explore primary groups, successful marriage, or the nature of
the sacred. Some of these ideas and insights we can
use directly; Others must
be revised, extrapolating the kernel of truth for our purposes. Through such an approach, it is possible
to discover a basis for a theory and definition of love.
Freud's
theory of the "libido" has been narrowly interpreted as sexual
energy. It is the desire
to unite; to become part of something larger. Libido
moves to decrease distance and to incorporate within self. Erich Fromm (1956) wrote:
Freud's error in seeing love exclusively as the expression or a sublimation -- of the sexual instinct, rather than recognizing that sexual desire is one manifestation of the need for love and union . . . . Freud has been criticized for his overvaluation of sex. This criticism was often prompted by the wish to remove an element from Freud's system which aroused criticism and hostility among conventionally minded people. My criticism of Freud's theory is not that he over- emphasized sex, but his failure to understand sex deeply enough. He took the first step in discovering the significance of interpersonal passions . . . . In the further development of psychoanalysis it is necessary to correct and deepen Freud's concept by translating Freud's insights from the physiological into the biological and existential dimension (p. 30).
What
is the key to Freud's concept of which Fromm speaks? Allen Fromme (1963) in The Ability to Love followed Freud
in noting that love is an attachment. "Love
is an attachment influenced by previous and other attachments . . .
. Love exists only in the context of our total experience" (Fromme,
1963, p. 209).
Following
Freud, he argued that love is an attachment primarily and that the
emotional components are secondary (Fromme, 1963). Emotional
aspects come later; it
is the attachment which is the primary aspect of love. Fromme (1963, p. 354) wrote, ''Love is
something we learn. The
formation of our attachments teach us a pattern of loving. It is our way of growing in love."
Menninger
(1942, p. 261) said that '"What Freud really showed was that one
does not 'fall' in love: one
grows into love and love grows in him."
Would
we be pressing too far to say that love is the life force: the desire to attach our self to something
outside of ourselves? Viewed
existentially, could we not claim that this is the force which holds
both the individual and the social together? Could we not say that love and attachment are the very fabric
of the creation of meaning? If
we press an understanding of Freud, it appears that this becomes our
answer.
Freud
(1915) stated his views in the following words:
We assume that the human being has a certain amount of love, called libido, which, at the beginning, while remaining within the borders of its own self, is directed at its own self. Later on in the development, actually from a very early state on, this love detaches itself from the self, it aims itself on things outside, which are therefore, in a way, incorporated within us (p. 360).
Freud
continued: If the things get lost or if they are destroyed, the love or libido which we had attached to those things, will become free again. This love can then aim itself on the things that took the place of the first things, but it can equally well return to self. It appears that the latter is painful. Why it should be painful, why the detachment of things causes suffering, we do not understand... What we see is that the libido clings to things, and that it does not want to give up things even if good substitutes are ready for it (p. 360).
Van
Den Berg (1961), whose translation this is, commented: What prompts the libido to leave the inner self? In 1914 Freud asked himself this question -- the essential question of his psychology, and the essential question of the psychology of the twentieth century. His answer ended the process of interiorization. It is: the libido leaves the inner self when the inner self has become too full. In order to prevent it from being torn, the I has to aim itself on objects outside the self; . . . ultimately man must begin to love in order not to get ill (p. 235).
One
must attach one's self to something larger in order to not become ill; in order to create meaning. It will be noted later that Fromm uses
this in the formation of his definition of love. Fromm (1956)
saw love as overcoming separateness. Meaning
is achieved in relation to something larger than self. Love is a way of achieving relation and
meaning.
The
work of other psychologists and sociologists may also provide us with
a basis for understanding love. Sociological
and psychological frameworks have related love to giving (Sorokin,
1950; Fromm, 1947,1956), care
(Mayeroff, 1971), growth
(Maslow, 1962), and creativity (May 1975; Menninger, 1942). Love is seen as a nourishing force which
expands and is essentially productive. It is given freely and is self-generative. It provides an atmosphere for personal
growth and the safety in which giving becomes receiving.
Love
has also been correlated with the willingness to trust (Biddle, 1966;
Gibb, !978), the release from fear (Jampolsky, 1979), courage (Moustakas,
1972; May, 1975) and self-disclosure (Jourard, 1968; 1971). It seems that I can only know as much
of myself as I am willing to reveal to You. Trust is needed if I am going to allow You to see Me as I
really am. If love is
to occur, I must allow you a space where you can be as you are. As one feels more and more free to relax and open, the other
can do the same.
I love her. What does this mean? . . . As she discloses her being to me or before my gaze, my existence is enriched. I am more alive. I experience myself in dimensions that she evokes, such that life is more meaningful and livable. My beloved is a mystery that I want to make transparent. But the paradox is that cannot make my beloved do anything. I can only invite and earn the disclosure that makes her transparent. I want to know my beloved. But for me to know, she must show. And for her to show her mysteries to me, she must be assured I will respect them, take delight in them (Jourard, 1971, p. 52).
This
is why the humanistic power cannot control but must invite, wait, and
court. Love requires an atmosphere of trust for it to show itself. One must move past fear with the courage
it takes to be one's self. Trust
is the prerequisite for self-disclosure and love.
Love
also has been related to knowledge and to intimacy. Kieffer (1977, p. 267) defined intimacy as "the experiencing
of the essence of one's self in intense intellectual physical, and/or
emotional communion with another human being." It is the central
human experience where one must focus any effort at a humanistic discipline. " As
Angyal (1965) has contended, the maintenance of closeness with another
human being is the center of one's existence until the very end of
life" (Kieffer, 1977, P. 268).
Kieffer
followed Biddle (1976) in analyzing intimate relationships along the
dimensions of breadth, openness, and depth.
Breadth. . . is the range of activities shared by the partners. The openness dimension includes facets of disclosure of 'self' in the Jourardian sense . (Kieffer, 1977, p. 211).
Openness . . . is the mutual disclosure of the intellectual, physical, and/or emotional identities of each partner in the process of their interaction . . , . disclosure is an essential element in the escalation of intimacy . . . (Kieffer, 1977, p. 274).
Depth . . . is the degree to which an intimate relationship incorporates identities that are central to the partners" (Kieffer, 1977, p. 275).
Trying
to define intimacy conceptually is an exceedingly difficult task because,
as Kieffer notes, as anyone experiencing love knows, not only do people
melt and blend, but so do our concepts: "Within
the experience of intimacy he or she may discover once again, at least
for a few moments, that intimacy is a mystery that defies explanation" (Kieffer,
1977, p. 277).
Yet,
we must find ways to point to the experience. As Bergson (1935) noted, it should not bother us that we must
speak of love in abstract terms: we
should remember the experience.
Loyalty, sacrifice of self . . . charity, such are the words we use when we think of these things. But have we, generally speaking, in mind at such times anything more than words? Probably not, and we fully realize this. It is sufficient, we say, that the formula is there; it will take on its full meaning; the idea which is to fill it out will become operative, when the occasion arises (p. 36).
It
is important that we talk about the things which we have found vital
even if we are no longer immediately in contact with that experience. Just the act of a collective and public
remembering -- taking them into account; making space for their existence
-- brings us all a step closer to remembering. Love is a rare and very
special experience. Much
of the magic of life is remembering what we know: the
trust, the child-like space of awe and wonder, the disclosure and the
openness where love can find us once again.
Ira
Reiss (1960, 1971) spoke of the "'Wheel Theory of Love" as
depicting the process of increased intimacy. The
spokes of the wheel are rapport, self-revelation, need-fulfillment,
and mutual dependency. As
each spoke moves, the wheel turns and love increases. Each movement also increases each of the component spokes.
By
far the major contribution to an understanding of love is the work
of Erich Fromm. He is perhaps the only psychologist or sociologist
who has dealt explicitly and extensively with love throughout his life's
work. Fromm's full significance has not been
adequately understood precisely because his thesis is situated at the
juncture between sociology and psychology.
Fromm's contribution contains the seeds of a genuine understanding of love and a conceptual framework for enacting those insights in the social world. His understanding invites us toward envisioning a humanistic sociology. That he moves so quickly from the psychological to the macro-sociological has led many to discount his views as superficial. He does move rapidly between micro-psychological and macro-sociological levels, but his is an initial effort. The boldness of this scope is demanded by the very thesis that he is posits. Although, the outline which he conceptualizes is not filled in any great detail, within his writings can be found the basic parameters of a Love Paradigm.
The
precise component addressed in Fromm s work shifts over the course
of his career, yet his argument and emphasis on love remains the same. In Man for Himself (1947), the focus
was upon productivity and
His "Theory
of Love" was formally contained in The Art of Loving (1956) and
was an expansion of specific ideas expressed in Man For Himself (1947). Fromm
began his theory with the fact of human separateness.
Man . . . is life being aware of itself. This awareness of
himself as a separate entity, the awareness of his own short life-span,
of the fact that without his will he is born and against his will he
dies, that he will die before those whom he loves, or they before him,
the awareness . . . of his helplessness before the forces of nature
and society, all this makes his separate, disunited existence an unbearable
prison. He would become insane could he not liberate himself from
this prison and reach out, unite himself in some form or other with
men, with the world outside. The
experience of separateness arouses anxiety; it is, indeed, the source
of all anxiety (Fromm, 1956, p. 6). [Italics Original]
Man must seek for a manner of relatedness with the whole
of life. It is through relatedness -- overcoming separateness -- that
one finds meaning in life.
Human existence is characterized by the fact that man is
alone and separated from the world; not being able to stand the separation,
he is impelled to seek relatedness and oneness . . . . It is the paradox of human existence that man must simultaneously
seek for closeness and for independence; for oneness with others and
at the same time for the preservation of his uniqueness and particularity .
. The answer to this paradox -- and to the moral problem of man --
is productiveness. One can be productively related to the
world by acting and by comprehending . . . [The] power of love enables him to break through the wall
which separates him from another person and to comprehend him (Fromm,
1947, pp. 102-103). [Italics Original]
Man, set apart by his self-awareness and the capacity to
feel lonely, would be a helpless bit of dust driven by the winds if
he did not find emotional ties which satisfied his need to be related
and unified with the world beyond his own person (Fromm, 1968, p. 68).
Fromm
(1956) outlined several paths to overcoming our separateness. There are "orgiastic states" --
trances, drug experiences, sexual orgasm -- which integrate mind and
body, but are episodic in nature. "Conformity" offers
a chance to feel at one with the group and is relatively permanent
despite the fact that it lacks intensity. One may also overcome separateness by "creative
activity" in which the artist merges with the creation. However,
none of these customary ways are entirely satisfactory.
The unity achieved in productive work is not interpersonal;
the unity achieved in orgiastic fusion is transitory; the unit achieved
by conformity is only pseudo-unity. Hence,
they are only partial answers to the problem of existence. The full answer lies in the achievement
of interpersonal union, of fusion with another person, in love (Fromm,
1956, p. 15). [Italics
Original]
Fromm's
(1947) definition of genuine love was that "Love is the productive
form of relatedness to others and to oneself. It
implies responsibility, care, respect, and knowledge, and the wish
for the other person to grow and develop. It
is fusion under the condition of integrity. (p. 116). [Italics Original] ???
Care
implies that "Love is the active concern for the life and the
growth of that which we love" (Fromm, 1956, p. 22). Responsibility is related to faith (Fromm, 1947). Love takes
the opportunity offered by "falling in love" to expand and
enter into a dialog of response to another person. Respect
is the ability to see another as he or she really is. Fromm (1956,
p. 23) noted that "respect is not fear or awe," but is akin
to the root of the word, which means literally "to look at."
Love
is a way of knowledge: of feeling related and at home in the world. It is both a path to knowledge and a
path to meaning. Love
is a different path to knowledge than the scientific power of analysis,
dissection, and control.
The
basic need to fuse with another person as to transcend the prison of
one's separateness is closely related to another specifically human
desire: to know the 'secret of man.
....There is one way, a desperate one, to know the secret:
it is that of complete power over another person; the power which makes
him do what we want, feel what we want, think what we want; which transforms
him into a thing . . . .
The other path to knowing 'the secret' is love. Love is the
active penetration of the other person, in which my desire to know
is stilled by union. . . . Sadism is motivated by the wish to know
the secret, yet I remain as ignorant as I was before. I have torn the
other being apart limb by limb, yet all I have done is to destroy him. Love is the only way of knowledge, which in the act of union
answers my quest. In the act of loving, of giving myself, I discover
myself, I discover us both, I discover man (Fromm, 1956, p. 24).
We
must now explore a crucial distinction which Fromm uses for a conceptualization
of love. He wrote:
. . . if we call the achievement of interpersonal union 'love,'
we find ourselves in serious difficulty . . . . Should we reserve the
word "love" only for a specific kind of union, one which
has been the ideal virtue in all great humanistic religions and philosophical
systems of the last four thousand years of Western and Eastern history?
. . . Do we refer to love as the mature answer to the problem of existence,
or do we speak of those immature forms of love which may be called
symbiotic union (Fromm, 1956, p. 15)?
In
symbiotic union, there is attachment based on need but without preserving
each other's integrity. The
individual integrity of at least one member is surrendered to preserve
union. This "love" is dependence based
on reciprocal need. "Two become One" but at a price. It is not a matter of two whole persons
coming together in relationship, but of two partial persons uniting:
two halves who make a whole. In
some ways, it becomes a matter of addition. "Immature
love says: 'I love you because need you.' Mature love says: 'I
need you because I love you.'" (Fromm,
1956, p. 34).
In the symbiotic relatedness the person is related to others
but loses or never attains his independence; he avoids the danger of
aloneness by becoming part of another person, either by being 'swallowed'
by that person or by 'swallowing' him (Fromm, 1947, p. 113).
Archetypically
or as ideal types, Fromm differentiated two forms of symbiotic union. Curiously, he treats them as masochistic
(submissive) or sadistic (domination).
The masochistic person does not have to make decisions, does
not have to take any risks; he is never alone -- but he is not independent;
he has no integrity; he is not yet fully born. The person renounces his integrity, makes himself the instrument
of somebody or something outside himself; he does not solve the problem
of living by productive activity.
The sadistic person wants to escape from his aloneness by
making another person part and parcel of himself. He inflates and enhances
himself by incorporating another person, who worships him (Fromm, 1956,
p. 6).
Yet,
despite the fact that between sadism and masochism, there is "a
considerable difference in a realistic sense; in a deeper emotional
sense, the difference is not so great as that which they both have
in common: fusion without integrity" (Fromm, 1956, p. 17).
In
both instances, there is a fundamental inability to handle. One person must lose in order for another
person to win. This inability to deal with power is the distinction
which Fromm has drawn between mature and immature love.
I
will argue that in a relationship, interpersonal magic is the ability
to share power. It is
important to note that Fromm's conception of love revolved around the
ability to resolve the power issue!
In contrast to symbiotic union, mature love is union under the condition of preserving one's integrity -- one's individuality. Love is the active power in man: : a power which breaks through the walls which separate man from his fellow men, which unites him with others; love makes him overcome the sense of isolation and separateness, yet it permits him to be himself, to retain his integrity. In love the paradox occurs that two beings become one and yet remain two (Fromm, 1956, p.17). [Italics Original]
Love
is an exploration of the possibilities of human life. It finds its fulfillment in mystery, awe, and an overflowing
joy. At times, it attains
its depth in a tearful understanding. It is an active exploration of
all that life can be.
On
the other hand, symbiotic attachment -- even at its best -- is never
more than just a matter of "keeping each other warm." With the symbiotic union,
. . . man indeed succeeds in feeling at home in the world, but he pays a tremendous price for this security, that of submission, dependence, and a blockage to the full development of his reason and of his capacity to love. He remains a child when he should have become an adult. The . . , ties . . . of benign and of malignant ecstasies can disappear only if man finds a higher form of feeling at home in the world, if not only his intellect develops. but also his capacity to feel related, intimate without being stifled (Fromm, 1968, p. 69) [Italics Mine]
Love
involves touching without grasping, feeling the power but not claiming
it, holding but not owning. It
demands respect and faith in love. "Without
respect for and knowledge of the beloved person, love deteriorates
into domination and possessiveness" (Fromm, 1947, p. 107). One
must realize the impossibility of a fulfilling love by control and
domination.
When love is experienced in the mode of having it implies confining, imprisoning, or controlling the object one 'loves.' It is strangling, deadening, suffocating, killing, not life-giving. What people call love is mostly a misuse of the word, in order to hide the reality of not loving (Fromm, 1973, p. 33). [Italics Original] Love
demands a psychological maturity and a sociological awareness of power. With such a valuable experience, if one
does not have a mature insight, one will try to force it as a matter
of will. Yet, the nature of love is such that
it is alien to the world of force and control. However, this is very difficult because in love we are at
the very core of the essence of our meaning. It demands that people be in touch with
themselves.
Love is possible only if two persons communicate with each other from the center of their existence, hence if each one of them experiences himself from the center of his existence. Only in this 'central experience' is human reality, only here is aliveness, only here is the basis for love. Love, experienced thus, is a constant challenge; it is not a resting place . . . . Two people experience themselves from the essence of their existence, that they are one with each other by being with themselves rather than by fleeing from themselves. There is only one proof for the presence of love: the depth of the relationship, and the aliveness and strength in each person concerned; this is the fruit by which love is recognized (Fromm, 1956, pp. 86-87).
Love
demands a faith: to disclose myself as who I am and to experience myself
as who I am. It is a faith that will be enough. Rather
than having to fashion myself to another's expectations, I avoid the
personality market and explore the depths. 'What matters in relation to love is the faith in one's own
love; in its ability to produce love in others, and in its reliability" (Fromm
1956, p. 104).
Love recognizes that there is another way of life than force and control. It is a trust in the power of love. It is the trust that love, as if by magic, will awaken love. It is a faith that love will take us where we need to go. Love is an act of strength: an openness which leaves one vulnerable to an attack of power. Any betrayal of love shakes us to the roots of our being and challenges our creation of self. Fromm (1956) wrote:
. . . to have faith requires courage, the ability to take a risk. To be loved, and to love, one needs . . . the courage to judge certain values as of ultimate concern -- and to take the jump and stake everything on these values. This courage is very different from the . . . slogan 'to live dangerously.' . . . That is rooted in a destructive attitude toward life, in the willingness to throw life away because one is incapable of loving it. The courage of despair is the opposite of the courage of love, just as the faith in power is the opposite of the faith in life.
The practice of faith and courage . . . is to notice where and when one loses faith; . . . to recognize how every betrayal of faith weakens one, and how increased weakness leads to new betrayal, and so on in a vicious circle. Then one will also recognize that while one is consciously afraid of not being loved, the real, though usually unconscious fear is that of loving. To love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith and whoever is of little faith is also of little love (pp. 106-107).
Yet,
some have asked if such a commitment without guarantee is not, perhaps,
out of date. Kieffer (1977) commented that:
Many modern individuals tend to approach love as a process of mutual exchange in which each of the partners attempts to derive affective rewards for minimal costs. For many of us, this description of love is an accurate portrayal of our ability to love . . . . We fail to arrive at a depth in intimacy which would enable us to transcend self and to say with all sincerity that 'I am as concerned about you as I am about me.'
As
Fromm has reminded us, most of us who attempt to love are incapable
of committing ourselves without any guarantees in the hope that love
will be returned. We say in our actions and perhaps in so many words,
'I will be as concerned about you as you are about me.' Perhaps we
as individuals are so much a product of capitalistic society that we
cannot transcend the utilitarian 'self' of exchange theory (p. 276).
This
is why Fromm indicted the capitalistic assumptions of self and exchange
theory. While a great deal of lip service is paid to the religious
ideal of love of one's neighbor, our relations are actually determined,
at their best, by the principle of fairness. Fairness
meaning not to use fraud and trickery in the exchange of commodities
and services, and in the exchange of feelings. 'I give you as much as you give me,'
in material goods as well as in love, is the prevalent ethical maxim
in capitalistic society. It
may even be said that the development of fairness ethics is the particular
ethical contribution of capitalistic society . . . .
Fairness ethics lend themselves to confusion with the ethics of the Golden Rule. The maxim 'to do unto others as you would like them to do unto you' can be interpreted as meaning 'be fair in your exchange with others.' But actually, it was formulated originally as a more popular version of the Biblical 'Love thy neighbor as thyself.' Indeed, the Jewish-Christian norm of brotherly love is entirely different from fairness ethics . . . . The practice of love must begin with recognition of the difference between fairness and love. (Fromm, 1956, pp. 108-109) [Italics Mine]
In
exchange, affective rewards are being exchanged across the boundaries
of self: there is no collapse of boundaries; no merging. Indeed, the fundamental assumption of exchange theory is the
positing of separate selves which then trade back and forth. ere is
no merging or overcoming of separateness here: only goods and rewards
to be exchanged according to a rational calculus. There
is no miracle; no human mystery of merging and creation: only a predetermined
set of societal roles -- rights and obligations. There is no mystery of love and faith;
no exploration of the depth of the human possibility. The "rewards" of love are much different than the
rewards of goods or services. Love
overcomes separateness. The
distance between selves is bridged in an experience of intimacy.
The
Exchange assumptions of the nature of self prevent a full intimacy. By constantly withdrawing to "keep
score," individuals
have difficulty merging. A
paragraph after her comments on Fromm, Kieffer (1977) wrote:
It is essentially within the depths of intimacy that the greatest rewards are to be found. It is perhaps in the emotional component of depth that we find love and the other aspects that are so highly prized by individuals and so difficult to achieve. Within the experience of intimacy, he or she may discover once again, at least for a few moments, that intimacy is a mystery that defies explanation (p. 276).
It
is also a mystery which defies calculation. Love is a creative, generative
force which overcomes separateness. The creation of meaning through love is totally distinct from the parameters of exchange
theory. This is why love
is so rare: it differs
from the prevailing world view afforded by science, technology and
exchange theory. It is a different paradigm which demands
a re-visioning of society. A
love paradigm provides us with the basis for a necessary re-thinking
of societal arrangements. Love
requires a compatible social context in which to flourish.
This
is why Fromm's work, of necessity, bridges both the psychological (individual)
and the societal: love
requires us to re-explore the nature of self and other; it requires us to re-examine the nature of social relation;
and it demands that we re-formulate society. Fromm concluded The Art of Loving with the following words:
The discussion of the art of loving cannot be restricted
to the personal realm of acquiring and developing those characteristics
and attitudes which have been described in this chapter. It is inseparably connected with the social realm.... Those who are seriously concerned with
love as the only rational answer to the problem of human existence
must arrive at the conclusion that important and radical changes in
our social structure are necessary if love is to become a social and
not a highly individualistic marginal phenomenon. . . . If
man is to be able to love, he must be put in his supreme place. The economic machine must serve him,
rather than he serve it . . . . Society
must be organized in such a way that man's social, loving nature is
not separated from his social existence, but becomes one with it.
If it is true, as I have tried to show, that love is the
only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence,
then any society which excludes, relatively, the development of love,
must in the long run perish of its own contradiction with the basic
necessities of human nature. Indeed, to speak of love is not 'preaching,'
for the simple reason that it means to speak of the ultimate and real
need in every human being. That
this need has been obscured does not mean that it does not exist. To
analyze the nature of love is to discover its general absence today
and to criticize the social conditions which are responsible for this
absence. To have faith in the possibility of love as a social and not
only exceptional-individual phenomenon, is a rational faith based on
the insight into the very nature of man (p. 112). We
must provide social arrangements and social structures which facilitate
and encourage the occurrence of love. We
must rethink the parameters of exchange theory, science, and technology
which effectively obscure or prevent love from having any wide impact
on society. We must come
to anew understanding of the social bond which does not render love
to a separate realm. We
must strive for a humanistic image of man which are crucial experiences
of intimacy and meaning. We must embrace the fullness of the movement
of life in theories of knowledge and society.
Love
is a creative joy which generates a security of meaning. Love moves as a human mystery, and experiencing
love awakens a celebration in life. The experience of its depth gives faith: the willingness to stake value in love. Joy
and the heart's desire to expand outward--because of love--must not
be underrated. Jourard commented that in our efforts
to develop an accurate epistemology of love, we must be careful not
to forget that love is a joy of life. In
speaking of sexual joy and the intimacy of married love, he says some
things which also apply to the joy found in all love:
Let us talk about something altogether rare -- a married couple who love one another, not in the sober sense of loving as Erich Fromm portrays it, but also in the sense of enjoying each other, delighting in one another's company. Each knows and cares for the other, responds to the other's needs and respects the other' s idiosyncrasies. Neither lover seeks to sculpt the other to conform to some idealized image. This is love according to Fromm, and, for that matter, it is love even according to my own unromantic treatment of the theme. In an earlier book I defined love not so much as emotion as action undertaken with the aim of fostering happiness and growth in the person loved. But there is something grim even a sense of hard work implicit in that conception of love. I would like to spice this conception with laughter and wholesome, lusty, mischievous, saucy sex. Not sex as mere coupling but sex as an expression of joie-de vivre, of a sharing of the good things in life. Sex that is deeply enjoyed . . . the kind that makes a well-married couple look at each other from time to time and wink or grin or become humble at the remembrance of joys past and expectant of those yet to be enjoyed (Jourard, 1971, pp. 4Z-43).
Love
is a joy whether it be the intimacies of lovers or the closeness of
friendship. Love is an obligation and a responsibility which is serious
work. But, we must not forget that it is also play. It merges the realms
of the serious and the recreational. It returns us to the wide-eyed
sense of wonder and mystery, as we enter into a "child-like" world
of play . "Only as a child will you enter the kingdom of heaven. "
Joy
provides a freedom which cannot be experienced elsewhere. It is aliveness: a celebration of life. The impetus which draws people toward
love is joy . While love
is a serious exploration of meaning, it is the joy which gives the
exploration its depth and its freedom. Joy
gives us a fresh birth: it is the playful joy which the romantics claim
transforms the world. This
joy can become the basis of creativity and depth. Fromm
spoke of aliveness and the joy of love as the foundation of sexual
metaphor. One may masochistically
submit to power or sadistically impose his or her own will. Yet, we can graduate to love only when
the power is shared; love consists of experiencing the sharing of the
power. This is precisely
Fromm's point. Maturity
is learning to move past family ties to which we must submit as a child
and not in turn needing to force others to submit to a recreation in
order to create self.
Learning
to love is learning to balance power. Magically,
when we have moved past exploitation and into sharing the experience,
something happens: love
springs from us. The world
transforms. Life becomes
an intimacy: a relatedness
in which we can relax and let go. We
can sing, dance, laugh, create, and bubble forth into the world. One achieves a degree of composure with
the power of life. This
is the psychological insight. Sociologically we may say The magic of
love occurs when each does not need to keep the power for self but
can share it.
If
we explore the epistemology of love as the basis for social relation,
we find that the effort is advanced by the work of the theologian Paul
Tillich. In Love, Power, and Justice (Tillich
1954), he emphasized a framework which stresses and supplements Fromm's
theory of love as overcoming separateness. He
added an important understanding.
He
wrote: Life is being in actuality and love is the moving power of life. In these two sentences the ontological nature of love is expressed. They say that being is not actual without the love which drives everything that is toward everything else that is. In man's experience of love the nature of life becomes manifest. Love is the drive toward the unity of the separated (Tillich, 1954, p. 25).
Tillich
(1954) proceeded to argue that conceiving of love as overcoming separateness
implied that relationships, such as symbiotic unions, which dilute
individuals into partial persons cannot, by definition be love. Love is the drive for reunion of the separated. It presupposes that there is something to be reunited, something relatively independent that stands upon itself. Sometimes the love of complete self-surrender has been praised and called the fulfillment of love. But the question is: What kind of self-surrender is it and what is it that it surrenders? If a self whose power of being is weakened or vanishing surrenders, his surrender s worth nothing. . . . The surrender of such an emaciated self is not genuine love because it extinguishes and does not unite what is estranged. The love of this kind is the desire to annihilate one's responsible and creative self for the sake of the participation in another self which by the assumed act of love is made responsible for himself and oneself. The chaotic self-surrender does not give justice to one's own power of being and to accept the claim for justice which is implied in this power. Without this justice there is no reunitive love, because there is nothing to unite (Tillich, 1954, pp. 68-69). [Italics Original]
A
sense of justice for the integrity of each individual is essential
if love is not to be extinguished in its own desire for union. Love seeks the reunion of the separated. Power seeks fulfillment and actualization
of being. Justice demands
integrity. Without love,
there is only isolation. Without
power, there is no growth. Without
justice, there is nothing to unite in love. Tillich demanded that we consider these three together as
part of the same process.
Martin
Buber's work on the "I" and ''Thou" also is a complementary
conception of love as overcoming separateness. He wrote: "The
principle of human life is not simple, but twofold . . . . I propose to call the first movement
'the primal setting at a distance' and the second 'entering into relation"'
(Buber, 1957, p. 97).
When "I" is
too far away from "You," we distance Self and Other, objectifying
them in such a manner that overcoming separateness becomes almost impossible. We
need a perspective which allows both "I" and "'You" to
stand out as a distinct, but does not, at the same time, reify self
in such a manner that reuniting person with person is not possible.
The
fundamental relation of Self and Other must be recognized in any conception
of "I." Buber (1970) wrote that there are two basic frame
works or "words" which one can use in formulating conceptions
of the world:
The attitude of man is twofold in accordance with the two basic words he can speak. . . . One basic word is the word pair I-You. The other basic word is the word pair I-It; but this basic word is not changed when He or She takes the place of It (p. 53)
Self can objectify Other and treat He or She as an object, as an It. Or Self can treat Other as a You. There is no I as such but only the I of the basic word I-You and the I of the basic word I-It. When a man says I, he means one or the other" (Buber, 1970, p. 54).
"I-You" compares
to seeing the world (and Other) as interwoven; as two elements in a process of relationship. "I-It" renders
all to the realm of Self and its object.
Whoever says You does not have something for his object . . . . It borders on other Its; It is only by virtue of bordering on others. But where You is aided there is no something. You has no borders. Whoever says You does not have something. But he stands in relation. . . . the basic word I-You establishes the world of relation (Buber, 1970, p. 55).
"You" is
not a thing. ''I-You" is
the realm of relation where there are no boundaries between Self and
Other. With "I-You," I intermingles with You; there is no object but a process of relationship
and a fluctuating boundary.
With
the conception of Self as "I-It," one treats the world (or Other) as an object setting it at
a distance. "I-You" is
a process; "I-It", an abstraction -- a separation of one
from the other. "the
basic word I-You can only be spoken with one's whole being. The basic word I-It can never be spoken with one's whole being" (Buber,
1970, . 54).
With "I-It",
the world has been objectified. "I-It" is the realm of the scientific Cause and
Effect; the "Mover" and
its "Object" as posited by Aristotelian logic. "It has erected the crucial barrier
between subject and object; the
basic word I-It, the word of separation . . (Buber, 170, p. 75).
However,
with "I-You," You
cannot be objectified; I
and You are part of a mutual creation of each other and are not fundamentally
separated:
The form that confronts me I cannot experience nor describe; I can only actualize it . . . The concentration and fusion into a whole being can never be accomplished by me, can never be accomplished without me. I require a You to become; becoming I, I say You. All actual life is encounter (Buber, 1970, p. 62).
Buber's
distinction of the You" offers
a different paradigm to Science. It
provides a framework where overcoming separateness and love can take
place. As long as the
world and others are frozen as objects, such reunion cannot be achieved.
"Setting at a distance" is essential: for thought, for movement, for perception, and for speaking. In order to see and frame in language, we must distance -- abstract. This is the nature of thought. And yet our abstractions from whole -- from process -- must not be such that they are reified and become treated as the thing-in-itself. "Setting at a distance" must not be allowed to cement into objects; our framework of thought must not estrange Self from Other. It is essential that we frame our conceptions in a way that we can overcome the separateness which is implicit in our distancing and thus preserve a dialog (Buber, 1957, p. 105).
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