Mind expanding

The Idea of Justice by Amartya Sen; Penguin Books; Price: Rs. 695; 450pp

A debate about justice is at the core of this erudite and insightful book written by one of the foremost thinkers and seers of the contemporary world. Although it’s evidently written  for the global academic community in a discursive style to advance debate on the nature, characteristics, and philosophic concept of justice in an essentially unjust world, at least the introduction and some selected  chapters should be mandatory reading for members of the Indian establishment.

Individuals engaged in the conceptualisation and formulation of public policies for the advancement and development of nation and society will also find this work illuminating. Selective reading of this mind-expanding tome — which questions the dominant influence of renowned philosopher John Rawles (1921-2002) and his great 1971 book, A Theory of Justice — is particularly recommended to actual and aspiring politicians, front-benchers in Parliament, and their lordships of the higher judiciary, who seem inadequately aware that they are presiding over a legal system which is listing dangerously.

Expanding upon the philosophical treatises of European philosophers — Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, Rousseau and Immanuel Kant among others — who believed that justice is the consequence of a social contract between government and the governed, Rawles argued that it is possible to build just societies by establishing impartial institutions dispensing social and legal justice.  According to Rawles, the cause of  creating just social orders is best served if great institutions (parliaments, courts and universities) are built by individuals placing  themselves in a primordial “original position”, free of biases and prejudice. With such institutions a social contract would emerge, people would behave reasonably, and social and legal justice would become pervasive.

On the other hand, while acknowledging the importance of establishing strong institutions dispensing perfect justice, in this diligently researched book Sen challenges “institutional fundamentalism”. Offering a counterpoint, he argues that instead of vainly attempting to define and establish perfect institutions to deliver justice, social reformers should accord priority to the reduction, if not elimination, of glaring injustices such as chronic hunger, gender discrimination, education and health deprivation from their societies.

Yet perhaps the most refreshing feature of this widely-acclaimed philosophical treatise, is that it draws upon a vast cross-cultural canvas. In a sharp departure from the established practice of western researchers and thinkers drawing upon research and writing from within their own esoteric communities — Oxbridge and Harvard dons citing each others’ papers — to advance his argument, Sen augments the work of Rawles and fellow philosophers with input from the rich philosophic traditions of Indian and south-east Asian cultures. To illustrate the difference between transcendental institutionalism and social realisation of justice, he cites the concepts of niti and nyaya in the Hindu philosophic tradition.

Although broadly, both words denote justice, Sen explains the nuances. Niti is understood as “organizational propriety and behavioural correctness”, whereas nyaya “stands for a comprehensive concept of realized justice. In that line of vision, the role of institutions, rules and organizations, important as they are, have to be assessed in the broader and more inclusive perspective of nyaya, which is inescapably linked with the world that actually emerges, not just the institutions or rules we happen to have,” observes Sen perspicaciously. To paraphrase: the creation of just, equitable societies demands visible outcomes rather than good intentions and great institutions. To deliver “realised justice” to people, a better starting point might be the elimination of specific injustices rather than institutional reform.

With scholarly insight Sen expands the concept of justice far beyond its legal strait-jacket to illustrate the importance of freedom of speech, free media and ways and means to realise the ideal of global justice which necessitates the abolition of poverty, hunger, gender discrimination and other worst forms of deprivation around the world. In advancing his argument for realisation of true justice, Sen makes a powerful plea for democracy (defined as “government by discussion”) to achieve the ideal of dispensing real, as opposed to ritual, justice to humanity. In an uplifting chapter titled ‘Well-being, Happiness and Capabilities’, the author clearly states his belief that neither justice nor happiness is a realisable ideal without the pith and substance of democracy.

The importance of this absorbing and perceptive book for the Indian establishment is that for many reasons and ideological wrong turns, post-independence India has mutated into a republic of chronic injustice characterised by pervasive selfishness, greed, envy and lack of compassion for the huge mass of  population doing hard labour for pitiful reward. The Idea of Justice offers a practical prescription for righting the worst wrongs and excesses of contemporary Indian society, and for raising people toiling in the bottom half of the iniquitous social pyramid built by the self-serving heirs of the Mahatma.

The very first sentence of this cerebrally stimulating magnum opus is drawn from 19th century novelist Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. “In the little world in which children have their existence, there is nothing so finely perceived and finely felt, as injustice,” says Pip, its memorable protagonist. This compelling observation suggests that a radical upgrade of the country’s 1.25 million ramshackle government primary schools — in which the children of the poor majority are enroled by force of circumstances — would be a good starting point for eliminating the worst injustices that contemporary India so glaringly manifests.

Dilip Thakore

Self-discovery odyssey

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert; Bloomsbury; Price: Rs.510; 348 pp

As a 30-something writer Elizabeth Gilbert had everything: A vocation which took her all over the world, a handsome husband, and apartments in Manhattan and suburbia. Yet in the prime of her life, this author of three novels hits a mid-life crisis of epic proportions. Money, status and experience of the wider world fail to bring her relief, and she is overtaken by panic, sadness and confusion, prompting her to divorce, deep depression, and a doomed love affair which drives her to the edge.

Unwilling to give up, Gilbert took a bold and life-changing step. In a spirit of abandonment, she sold all her property, quit her job and proceeded on a solitary journey of rejuvenation and self-discovery. Eat, Pray, Love is a pacy account of a momentous year and her travel through Italy, India and Indonesia.

In Rome she studies Italian with passion, eats gelatos for breakfast and adds 12 kg to her fashionably emaciated frame. In India she lives in a remote village ashram, scrubs temple floors and with the help of her spiritual guru and a sharp-tongued Texan cowboy, embarks upon an expedition of spiritual exploration. And finally, in Bali she studies the art of balance between worldly achievements and spirituality with a toothless medicine man. She makes friends for life and also  unexpectedly falls in love.

Early in the book Gilbert gives the reader an honest and humorous portrait of herself. The self-described lazy blonde with the ability to make friends wherever she goes, Gilbert is also bereft of research skills and stands out in crowds because of her height (5 ft 10 inches), which scares Chinese children in particular. And to make matters worse, her digestive system is not the strongest.

This travelogue — in which the author makes a journey of the mind to discover and heal herself — is divided into 36 tales about the “pursuit of pleasure” in Italy, India and Indonesia. But readers expecting tales of sex romps in these countries renowned for lotharios, sexy swamis and shamans will be disappointed.

In Italy Gilbert stops at fantasizing about her ten years younger ‘tandem exchange partner’ (he teaches her Italian conversation, she teaches him English). “I have finally arrived at that age where a woman starts to question whether the wisest way to get over the loss of one beautiful brown-eyed man is indeed to promptly invite another one into her bed… this is why, in fact I have decided to spend the entire year in celibacy,” she writes in the very first chapter of the book.

She easily maintains her celibacy resolve in India, where suave and charming males are as rare as lilies in the desert. In the village ashram of her female guru (both deliberately unidentified), Gilbert studiously attempts to meditate while struggling with past memories and wrong turns.

By the time she reaches Indonesia, the author believes she has reached a point of mental equilibrium and needs rest and recreation. Renting a small house in Bali, she settles into a blissful life where days are spent languidly between learning with a toothless medicine man — who teaches her how to “smile from the liver” — and hanging out with a Balinese medicine woman and her children. She even manages to raise $20,000 — not a small sum in third world countries — by e-mailing her friends back home to purchase a home for the woman and her kids. In this state of serendipity, she finds love with a Brazilian 18 years older, who doesn’t mind that she owns only “one nice dress”.

With every wish fulfilled and every desire reciprocated with her new love, Gilbert avoids mentioning her life back in New York and the inevitability of returning to deal with unfinished business and loose ends.

Ending her story with a humorous yet eccentric touch, Gilbert narrates the history of a life less ordinary, and while her journey of self-discovery embodies the potential and ruin in each individual, it also offers hope and solutions to all those battered by life’s inevitable vicissitudes.

Neha Ghosh