Alexander Nehemas correctly identifies the parity in reasoning between Plato’s rejection of Epic poetry (among other forms of art) and the proposed ban on violent video games in California. Both are justified in part by the underlying premise that certain forms of representation or art (if one allows violent video games to be classified within this category) pose a possible threat to society and its constituents. Art may reflect life, but according to Plato and certain legislators in California, it is also capable of debasing it, corrupting our attitudes and actions and thus the world in which we live. Prima facie, this similarity between the ancient Greek philosopher and the California governor seems legitimate. Nonetheless, it would be worth providing a sketch of Plato’s account of art to ascertain the extent to which he and Governor Schwarzenegger agree on its possible detrimental effect. It would also be worth considering an opposing view of another ancient Greek philosopher, viz. Aristotle, who would probably oppose the California law or at least reject the main premise of its justification. Finally, one might compare these thinkers to the relatively modern art theorist Clive Bell, who corroborates Aristotle’s suspicion of the importance of representational content in art and even goes so far as to completely renounce it as a determining factor in considering the quality of a work. After surveying all of these thinkers though, there still may remain an unspoken appeal of violent video games in society, which ironically consists in the same reason for which Schwarzenegger wants them banned: violent video games fill us with violent sentiments.
Plato equates the value of art with its utility. He posits that rather than possessing intrinsic value—being good in and of itself, art’s value consists in being good for something else. Within his teleological system of goods, most specific goods ultimately function as a means to obtain the ultimate Good, which for Plato is a specific kind of knowledge. In his Symposium, Plato suggests that art is also a means to this ultimate Good (39). The dialogue focuses not on art but its object, beauty. Beauty is defined as a peculiar form us desire; unlike most desires, our appetite for beautiful objects is not appeased by our acquisition of them. As a result of this insatiable quality, we learn that beautiful objects are not that which we seek, but rather, as Plato explains, the form of beauty alone and not specific instances of it is the appropriate object of our desire. Once we recognize the true nature of beauty, we are inclined to recognize its relation to knowledge and the Good, after which we realize that these final goods are what we truly desire. Art then is valuable as a guide in our search of knowledge and the Good. It is for this reason that Plato advocates censorship of certain art in the Republic (31). For ‘bad art’, which neither participates in nor directs us towards the form of beauty, will in turn be unable to aide us in our search of the Good. Indeed, ‘bad art’ will have the opposite effect on us, instilling us with poor virtues and preventing us from pursuing the good, leading us farther astray.
It’s questionable whether governor Schwartzenegger would commit to the view that violent video games inhibit us from pursuing knowledge and the ultimate human good. Nevertheless, he would probably assent to Plato’s claim that representations of improper ethical behavior dispose us to developing inferior ethical values ourselves. It may be asked, however, to what extent we are susceptible to the negative influence of representation in our culture. Nehamas himself poses the question but leaves it unanswered, or at least doesn’t answer explicitly. He expresses apprehension over the possibility that we might in fact be substantially affected by such influence. Yet he doesn’t elaborate, suggesting that he may feel this possibility is not actually the case. Indeed, some philosophers would overtly deny the underlying assumption of both Plato’s account of art and Schwarzenegger’s proposal to censor violent video games. Aristotle, a student of Plato, would deny the purported bleak consequences produced by negative representations in our culture.
Aristotle would reject this premise because, unlike Plato, he denies the significance of the representational content in art. That is, although he conceives of art as both representation and pedagogical accoutrement, as does Plato, Aristotle differs from Plato in his dismissal of the relation between the artwork and the object the artwork purports to represent. For Aristotle, bad representation in art doesn’t pose a threat to society because society isn’t or certainly shouldn’t be concerned about the content of the representation. Form, not content, determines the success or failure of art (Poetics 48). It is thus possible that an artwork depict vile characters performing acts considered anathema by the ethical community, but if these characters interacted in such a way within the framework of the story so as to reveal universal truth about life, one would rightly consider the artwork a success. To remark upon the deplorable qualities of the characters would be to misunderstand the noteworthy elements of the work. The characters are unessential let alone worthy of attention that might lead to an adoption of their traits. As a result, we would, or should only be (positively) affected by the plot, as this is what relates the most valuable or substantial element of the work. Specifically, it relates universal laws or principles. Aristotle recognizes that this kind of knowledge does not derive from particulars, but rather it derives from the relationship between particulars; the qualities of the particulars themselves are substantially less significant. This is how metaphor functions (52). We identify X as Y, not because they share identical traits but because they are united by universals in such a way that they seem comparable. Aristotle recognizes the role of metaphor in art, whereas Plato does not. Plato seems to believe that our knowledge of an artwork derives from the likeness of the representation to the object represented. Under this conception, we take our lessons not from the relations expressed within the content but the content itself. It follows then from this view that if the content of a work consists of moral turpitude, the knowledge we take from it will be tarnished in that light. Aristotle rejects this view.
Aristotle, though, probably wouldn’t extol violent video games. He might not label them as hazardous to the moral education of our youth, but he also (probably) wouldn’t recognize these video games as good art. In evaluating them, rather than inquire about the violence conveyed within, he would consider the plot. Do the stories of these games reveal the universal laws and principles that govern us? An affirmative answer seems unlikely. However, there are examples of violent stories that are successful in this regard. The title character of Shakespeare’s Macbeth is bloody and ruthless, as are a number of other characters in this macabre play, and yet the universal themes contained within the work (e.g. the corrupting power of unchecked ambition) render it a successful piece of art. If the video games were able to establish plots to similar effect, Aristotle would not reject them as ‘bad art’, but he would do so with one qualification. That is, consummate weaving of plot may qualify them as ‘good art’ but they would be better art if they achieved this and the content within the plot was non-violent. Aristotle thus concedes that representation does hold some importance, as virtuous or otherwise positive representation content qualifies a work as that of a higher form (55). There is, however, at least one modern aesthetic theorist would take issue with this qualification.
Clive Bell shares Aristotle’s view that form conquers content in determining factors of good art. Yet he would insist that representational content is completely inconsequential. Art moves us because its form possesses ineffable yet universal qualities that evoke an aesthetic sentiment in us (266). This is the only (albeit monumental) effect art enacts upon us. Representational content, like a violent character for instance, simply lacks the power to influence us the way that form does. Like Aristotle, Bell would probably doubt that video games could possess the appropriate form required to move us in this specific way, but it is possible. He differs from Aristotle in that, it were conceded that video games did in fact possess such form, he would be required to grant these video games the same artistic status that he would any other objet d’art whose excellence of form was paramount.
What all of these thinkers (and the proponents of the California ban) seem to clearly dismiss is the possibility of art having a detrimental yet legitimate effect upon us. Plato and Aristotle posit that art can (or should) only affect us positively. That is, art educates us, which is proper and good. Bell lends credence to art as a catalyst of emotion so positive he relates the sentiment to experiencing ecstasy. And of course, Schwarzenegger wants to ban video games because they might be detrimental to youth. But can some good art affect us negatively; can its goodness be derived paradoxically from how it makes us bad? I don’t think we should immediately dismiss an affirmative answer to this question. Searching for a corroborating example, I’m inclined to think of certain works by Jean-Michel Basquiat, the Brooklyn-born painter and graffiti artist who came to prominence in the early 1980’s in New York. The crass scribbling of his naïve expressionist paintings and murals might qualify as art in a few ways. They represent, with eerie precision, a certain malaise present amid the New York under-class culture at the time. In this way they are educational (under Aristotle’s view), relating certain universal laws about class, modern urban life, and the human condition. But the truths these works reveal are dour if not devastating. Instead of inspiring sentiments of ecstasy (as Bell would demand), what one gathers from the works moves her to hopelessness and despair. And yet, no one appreciative of art would want to be displaced from a Basquiat, despite or indeed because of its powerful negative influence. Perhaps this shows that we don’t necessarily require art to move us to good, but simply that is moves us. The proponent of violent video games might make such an appeal. Perhaps video games do fill us with a passionate destructive rage, but this is precisely what we want from the representations we surround ourselves with in daily life. We may well want to be moved to be good, but this doesn’t mean we don’t also want to be moved to be bad.
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