Abstract
In The Priority of the Other: Thinking and Living Beyond the Self, Mark Freeman offers a conceptual landscape to move from an egocentric conceptualization of self and experience to one that connects with the Other—thus, a movement to the excentric. By Other, Freeman not only references human others but also connection to relationality with the nonhuman encounters in our daily lives (e.g., art, poetry, animals). Drawing on works by Simone Weil, Martin Buber, Iris Murdoch, Emmanuel Levinas, and many others, the book is an existential and philosophical journey into understanding the polarization of the self and the Other and, most important, how we can narrow this divide. The purpose, however, is not to dismiss or minimize the self. Rather, as argued throughout, the self becomes “larger” and more fulfilled when finding “kinship with the world” (p. 2). As such, this book will be of interest to readers of the Journal of Language and Social Psychology as it challenges conventional approaches and perspectives on human relations while introducing a body of literature and scholarly works not traditionally associated with language, communication, and social psychology.
In the Introduction, Freeman outlines some of the guiding perspectives for the arguments laid out in the subsequent chapters orienting the reader to the idea that we must be mindful and open to the experience of others realizing that there may be something beyond our existence that, in some way, guides and shapes our lives. Freeman articulates a worldview built on the idea that achieving a higher sense of self, or the “betterment of self,” is contingent on our embracing and engaging the Other. As Freeman states, “Self is secondary; the Other comes first and is thus the primary source of meaning, value, and existential nourishment” (p. 5).
As the title of chapter 1, From Self to Other, suggests, Freeman builds on the introduction to further articulate the premise that there needs to be a movement toward the Other to more fully appreciate and understand the self and, thus, existence. Freeman relies heavily on Martin Buber along with other contemporary philosophers (e.g., Simone Weil, Charles Taylor). Freeman begins the chapter introducing the idea of disruption. Reflecting on a moment of losing oneself in music and sharing the experiences of prioritizing interactions with a mother suffering from dementia for the sake of bringing her joy even with its difficulties, Freeman demonstrates how moments, experiences, and relationships disrupt our inward orientation and allows us to find a self that exists in relation to an Other. In doing so, we experience a more “whole” self. It is this relationality to Others that gives us meaning. With the focus on a movement from self to Other, it makes sense that Freeman next tackles the Nihilistic thought of existence residing in self absent of an absolute or a divine. While recognizing the legitimacy of the claims, Freeman frames these arguments around the idea that there is inherently something bigger than us stating,
To put the matter more baldly and boldly, we are spiritual beings, with spiritual impulses, needs, and yearnings, and even if these impulses, needs, and yearnings lead us away from God and religion—as they frequently do—there nevertheless remains a very real sense in which they bespeak a kind of primordial religiosity. (p. 27)
In short, there is something in us all—divinely-inspired or otherwise—that seeks connections with Others.
The remainder of the chapter highlights the importance of an outward (i.e., Other-centered) devotion to the extrinsic in that if we truly focus on the relationship of our self to the “relationship of things,” we surrender to the idea that existence and understanding of self is dependent on our attention to the Other. Freeman then moves to a brief discussion of the role of aesthetics (e.g., beauty) in this Other-centered attention. Whereas a majority of the chapter lays out Freeman’s philosophical framework, he ends with a more pragmatic discussion as he critiques conventional approaches to psychology and therapy that spend unnecessary time and, thus, nonconstructive attention on the individual. In Freeman’s view, “Much of contemporary therapy is oriented toward the self, for in a great many situations, it is precisely the Other—the living, bountiful world—that most needs to be restored.” (p. 43).
In chapter 2, Oblivion and Attention, Freeman begins by exploring the intriguing paradox in our daily lives: although we know that caring and acting on behalf of or toward an Other betters our lives, we fail to “realize this betterness, this goodness, in action, day in and day out” (p. 57). Although Freeman relies more on compelling narratives than philosophical works in the early part of this chapter, he draws on the writings of Iris Murdoch to position centripetal–centrifugal forces as a way to understand our inward and outward attention and a priority of “unselfing.” As he states later in the book, “The centrifugal force of the Other gets swallowed up in the centripetal force of the self” (p. 180).
Following a brief discussion of art and aesthetics as a pathway to connection, Freeman introduces unsettling accounts of Nazi Germany primarily focusing on an officer at Auschwitz who is confronted with the gravity of human reality when finding a living 16-year-old girl on the floor of a gas chamber. In short, the general Other is given a “face” for this officer. In the end, he still carries out his cruel and evil orders. Thus, the point of this narrative is to demonstrate the challenge in prioritizing the Other in that we must be able to both see Others as part of our humanity and this must move us to act morally. In this, Freeman’s book has clear connections to other works on altruism and the Other such as Oliner, Oliner, Baron, Blum, Krebs, and Smolenska’s (1992) Embracing the Other: Philosophical, Psychological, and Historical Perspectives on Altruism. Whether referencing the horrors of World War II concentration camps or our dismissal and lack of attention to the everyday experiences of those in our community, we have an innate capacity to remain “oblivious” to the Other even though we have the capacity to understand and act.
Freeman concludes the chapter referencing some of the early narratives to highlight how tragic events such as illness of a relative or death of people in a community will shift our selflessness to (re)connect with Others. Turning to Seneca’s thoughts on the brevity of life, Freeman asks, “Is there a way to encounter the reality of death so that it infuses and energizes the reality of life?” (p. 69) and engages a discussion of identifying a process that allows us to attend and live for the Other without relying solely on the “attention-getting and life-jolting realities” of tragedies, catastrophes, and so on. Freeman concludes the chapter by offering avenues for reducing our self-interest and attending to Others absent of the “jolt to the system that affliction provides” (p. 74).
In chapter 3, For the Other, Freeman continues with the narrative approach introduced in the previous chapter further elaborating on the experiences and coming together of his local community when a group of firefighters died in a rescue attempt. While Freeman acknowledges that the Other can be manifested in human and nonhuman forms (e.g., poetry, music, animals), he invokes Buber to propose that our most pure “dialogues,” or connections with Others, happen in our connection with human Others. In this articulation, Freeman also emphasizes that “community” is founded more on caring and devotion, or our relationship with Others, rather than mere association. Similar to other sections throughout the book, Freeman takes a brief foray into the relationship between the divine and our ability or desire to move beyond our selves. In this chapter, he specifically discusses a nuanced idea of faith that is not based on structured belief systems but on the idea that what we experience when engaging the Other actually represents something essential to our being. Following this, Freeman spends considerable space raising Emmanuel Levinas’ considerations about engaging the Other, comparing and contrasting to the ideas put forth by Buber and other philosophers. Central to this commentary is the question of whether the expected reciprocity in our dialogue (i.e., connection) with Others negates the “generosity,” or purity, of prioritizing the Other? Freeman next moves to introducing the notion of summons, reflecting the question of why prioritizing the Other is experienced so positively. As Freeman argues, “It takes a great and cynical effort to explain away the sympathy and fellow-feeling, the devotion and love, we often feel for others, especially those in need” (p. 101). Likewise, many of our most “transformative moments” are those experiences in connections with Others. Freeman concludes the chapter with a discussion of the divided self, again pondering the question of why we are often “dormant” and fail to see and attend to the Other.
The intention of chapter 4, Beyond the Human, is to emphasize that “it is not so much the object that defines what is the Other as the process” (p. 113). As such, the Other can take nonhuman forms—for instance, art and music—as it is the practice of attending to, embracing, and integrating the Other into our experiences that makes it a priority. The title and introduction to the chapter is in some ways deceiving as the focus is primarily a biographical account of Simone Weil and how her life experiences reflect the movement toward human and nonhuman Others alluded to throughout the previous chapters. Again, the issue of spirituality emerges in reference to Weil’s life and transformation but in the context of teasing out a new psychology—“one that avoids the (al)lure of reductionism and is able to deal appropriately with the spiritual” (p. 135). In this, Freeman emphasizes that the spiritual realm is not restricted to the domain of the divine and, thus, includes art and nature among other facets of existence.
Relying heavily on Iris Murdoch and William James, chapter 5, The Possibility of Transcendence, delves into the domain of mystical experience as part of the meaningful movements from a self to Other orientation. In other words, experiencing and prioritizing the Other may make us aware that there is something beyond the material and proximal that is real. As Freeman states, experiencing the presence of the Other “embodies a dimension of reality that is prior to the more mundane sphere ordinarily inhabited” (p. 152) and “carries within it the magnetic force of a realm that is felt and assumed to be transcendent” (p. 154). Freeman notes that transcendence is not a necessary condition to engaging the Other but, rather, a potential experiential outcome. As one might expect in a chapter on transcendence, issues of religion, spirituality, and mysticism are considered. In this, Freeman provides a landscape for us to consider how our experiences, caring, attentiveness, and devotion to the Other—both human and nonhuman—can move us to something beyond ourselves. The chapter concludes with a very brief critique of current psychological practices that do allow space for this “mystical” experience.
Chapter 6, Living Ex-centrically, provides Freeman with an opportunity to lay out the connections between the ideas of attention, devotion, transcendence, and remembering that have been introduced in a more in-depth manner in previous chapters. Freeman refrains—and explicitly states so—from a “how to live” orientation in this chapter. Rather, the chapter builds on propositions and existential questions put forth throughout the book. Once again, religion and God emerge in this chapter, and Freeman strategically dances around a position by refraining from declarative statements about absolutes while also dismissing claims that one should reject the idea of divine outright. In doing so, Freeman maintains an openness for the reader to engage the idea of living ex-centrically that fits with his or her spiritual or theological paradigm. One might expect this last chapter to outline a critique of normative psychological—and, for that matter, academic—approaches to understanding self. Freeman has saved this discussion for the Coda, A New Language for Psychology and Beyond. Even our contemporary views of Other-ness (i.e., altruism), Freeman argues, are infused and oriented around the “I.” Freeman articulates a vision for a new language of psychology. This language represents more than a new vocabulary and narrative for the domain of psychology. For Freeman, this language positions the experience of Other to be more readily accessible in our daily lives, lays the foundation for a new approach to research that ceases the tendency to categorize self and others into discrete categories and constructs void of depth of understanding, and introduces a new conceptualization of theory that allows for the possibility and inclusion of lived experience rather than narrowing the focus of inquiry.
Freeman’s book is incredibly engaging, interesting, and insightful. Furthermore, he articulates a clear vision for a paradigmatic shift in our understanding, conceptualization, and inquiries into self and the Other. Given the landscape of philosophical works and literature unpacked by Freeman, this text has appeal to a diversity of audiences ranging from clinical psychologists, academic researchers, and even clergy. But it is also in this broad appeal where one may find a limitation; specifically what to do with the thesis of this book? Using the language of Freeman, the book is meant to disrupt our normative approaches to understanding the relationship between the self and Other, the individual and the collective, the everyday experience and the mystical. But as Freeman points out in the final chapters, he does not intend to provide a “how-to.” Furthermore, his critiques on current paradigms in psychology are not matched with specific revelations on best practices for enacting this new paradigm, or language, of psychology. However, I do not believe it was Freeman’s intent to provide a detailed pragmatic (i.e., applied) partner to the philosophical and existential underpinnings of his argument. Rather, his goal is to direct us to this new perspective and allow us to decide how to incorporate it into our daily experiences, actions, orientations, and scholarly pursuits.