On the Language of Blame and Causality

A certain tendency I've noticed is that, when we are confronted with a problem or a blunder, we first look to who or what caused it. If it's a person, we might spend time and energy castigating them for doing such-and-such, and then tasking them to fix it. This is especially present in situations where a hierarchical structure is dominant (e.g. relationships between employee and employer, student and teacher, child and parent, etc.). If it's a thing, like a machine or a force of nature, we might conclude that their "nature" is "inherently" malevolent, and their usage must be reduced.

Why is this so? One explanation is that this stems from the model of causality always used in our times: of explaining effects through their causes, and vice versa. This model of causality, of course, has its uses, and is indispensable in our understanding of the world. However, one should not limit oneself in only this one model, for there are also other ways of seeing how causes and effects are connected to each other.

The continued pigeonholing of our minds to this one mode of causality has caused us to be narrow-minded. We dwell in the mistakes of our past, we let the weight of our history determine the course of our actions. We often seek something (whether it be people or things) to blame, as if knowledge of that will magically resolve the problem at hand. This attitude has contributed towards the foreclosure of our future, and in extending our unbearable present into an interminable eternity of repetition.

One philosopher has outlined three models of causality present in the history of philosophy: linear, expressive, and structural. Linear causality is the way of thinking I elaborated earlier, of thinking that causes flow indifferently to their effects. The paradigmatic image of this is a billiard ball hitting another ball. A benefit of this model is that it is simple and true, for this is how things work in nature. A word of warning, however: empirical facts are the kind of truth most susceptible to ideological distortions.

The second one, expressive causality, is the mode of causality present in the thought of Hegel. Expressive causality posits that there is an unchanging essence buried in the ever-changing fabric of reality, and that the evolution and development of said fabric can be explained by its labor of bringing this essence to light, to making it actual. This model is useful in explaining the history of certain human societies. This model, however, is often prone to legitimating domination, coercive practices, and discrimination towards other races.

The third one, structural causality, is the most theoretically complex of the three. Thinkers who have preoccupied themselves in exploring it has yet to fully map its features. One thing is certain, though, in their investigations: structural causality concerns itself with effects and randomness. Effects, in themselves, are taken seriously and is considered to possess a logic peculiar to them; one must, therefore, avoid collapsing effects to their causes. Without the help of the concept of causes, however, the "threat" of randomness enters the fray. In our minds, randomness is considered a "threat" because it is the opposite of order, it is what defies prediction and repetition. Randomness, under structural causality, is not eschewed, but taken seriously.

The thinking through of structural causality is difficult because it is very alien to our usual modes of understanding the world. We cannot abandon this task, however, because it is only this kind of causality that can adequately grasp the machinations of capitalism.