At twenty years old, I recently gained my independence following a period of estrangement from my family. The heart of our conflict lies in my attitude toward the kindness they extend to me. I define all their favors as "actions of their own choosing," maintaining the stance that while I am grateful for their financial support, it remains their choice and not my responsibility. My family condemns this as an "inhumane selfishness" stripped of both gratitude and regret.
I'm confused. "gained my independence" makes it sounds like you were being kept helpless, but if it was just optional financial gifts they gave you for their own reasons, didn't you already have independence? My suspicion is that you were disingenuously accepting support when it was convenient, and are now trying to claim that there was no reasonable expectation of behavior that came with the support.
IMO, it's a dick move. analogies to fictional dick moves don't make it better.
You've addressed the normative question, but you don't really deal with what I read as the underlying assumption of this post, which is that you view feeling gratitude as a threat. That seems load-bearing for your argument to me.
At twenty years old, I recently gained my independence following a period of estrangement from my family. The heart of our conflict lies in my attitude toward the kindness they extend to me. I define all their favors as "actions of their own choosing," maintaining the stance that while I am grateful for their financial support, it remains their choice and not my responsibility. My family condemns this as an "inhumane selfishness" stripped of both gratitude and regret.
However, I believe my attitude is a rejection of the "Sixpence values" described in the novel The Moon and Sixpence. Much like the protagonist Charles Strickland, I have never solicited help from my family; they assist me simply out of their own altruism. Just as public opinion on Strickland remains divided, I find myself standing at the center of moral condemnation.
I seek to establish a logical foundation for these confusing convictions by invoking several classical concepts: the inevitability of betrayal in the "Prisoner’s Dilemma," the concept of "Superrationality" proposed by Douglas Hofstadter to overcome it, and the notion of "Strickland-esque Reciprocity" to supplement the limits where superrationality fails. I wish to explore whether my selfishness is an "optimization in a special circumstance" or a simple "logical error." This piece is not a definitive conclusion, but rather a question posed in the process of searching for an answer.
I. A Brief Summary of The Moon and Sixpence
To aid the understanding of this discussion, I will briefly introduce Somerset Maugham’s novel. The protagonist, Charles Strickland, was an ordinary and stable stockbroker in London. However, at the age of forty, he suddenly abandons his family and career to leave for Paris. Driven by a singular, mad artistic longing to paint, he utterly ignores the gaze of others, moral conventions, and even the devotion of those who help him.
Leaving behind worldly values (the Sixpence) to pursue the calling of his soul (the Moon), he feels not a shred of remorse even after destroying the family of a friend who cared for him. Eventually, he moves to Tahiti and immerses himself in art until his death from leprosy, by which time he had gone blind. Though his life was thoroughly selfish, the works he left behind gifted humanity a profound sense of artistic awe.
II. Hofstadter’s Superrationality: Resolving the Prisoner’s Dilemma
Douglas Hofstadter sought to break through the limits of classical game theory through "Superrationality." His famous "$20 experiment" illustrates this well. When twenty rational agents, who cannot communicate, are told that "the prize will be awarded only if exactly one person responds," superrational actors—following a symmetrical logic—simultaneously reach the answer: "respond with a 1/20 probability." Based on the belief that "others as smart as I am will reach the same conclusion," they choose system optimization over individual gain. This is the basis for cooperation proposed by superrationality.
III. Cracks in Superrationality: "Prisoner-ization" and the Time Horizon
However, I have identified two critical limitations in Hofstadter’s logic:
• Stakes: When the "stakes of life"—such as academic prestige, success, or survival—are involved rather than small laboratory sums, agents abandon superrationality and devolve into "prisoners" (Prisoner-ization) chasing immediate utility.
• Time Horizon: Superrational cooperation assumes a "long-term repeated game." However, for an actor like Strickland, whose internal desires are at a breaking point or whose life expectancy is short, "the long-term improvement of social capital" is not a consideration. For him, there is only the one-time game of "creation in this moment."
IV. Strickland: Between Legal Innocence and Kantian Guilt
Strickland stands at the center of this debate. As an adult, he merely exercised his freedom of movement and did not coerce kindness from others or inflict physical harm. Legally, he is innocent.
However, the result changes when applied to Kant’s "Categorical Imperative." If the maxim "I may ignore and instrumentalize the kindness of others for my own purposes" were to be universalized, the social system would collapse immediately. From the perspective of superrationality, Strickland is nothing more than an "irrational agent" and a "free rider" who destroys the system.
V. A New Perspective: An Ontological Transaction as an Intangible Cultural Asset
I have constructed a new frame through which to view Strickland. The interpretation is that he was not a simple free rider, but a "supplier of a special good."
He did not offer material repayment or kindness; instead, he paid with irreplaceable spiritual values: "awe," "primal vitality," and "unapproachable purity." Dirk Stroeve discovered artistic essence in him, Blanche gained an intense existential tension, and the Tahitians provided bread in exchange for protecting an "intangible cultural asset" that would preserve the soul of their island.
This is on a different level than simple egoism. Strickland was as harsh on himself as he was cold to others, and he left the transcendent value of "the Moon" to the world even as he destroyed himself. The relationship between him and those around him can be redefined not as moral exploitation, but as a "high-level exchange of values on different planes" based on their respective needs.
VI. Conclusion
Is it justifiable to pursue a life based on "Strickland-esque Reciprocity" beyond the mechanical cooperation of superrationality?
From the perspective of social overhead capital and superrationality, it is only right that I sacrifice some of my "high-level values" to restore my relationship with my family and function as a normal member of society. Yet, from the perspective of The Moon and Sixpence, there is room to interpret my situation as a reciprocal relationship where I provide my family with an overwhelming spiritual value (such as existential tension) that cannot be experienced in ordinary relationships, and receive material support in return—just as Blanche or Stroeve did.
In summary, Strickland possesses the following specificities:
• He provides overwhelming spiritual value in place of worldly value.
• He applies the same cold standards to himself as he does to others.
• The direction of his madness lies in the pure longing of the soul, not in a private ego.
Is the policy of such a "special actor" an "error" in the system, or is it another way of "optimizing" one's life? I am curious to hear your thoughts.
*Co-authored with Gemini.