I think the intention of the story is
supposed to be that arrogance (especially in authority) can lead to
tragedy. More specifically, that sometimes authority is not as wise
and strong as people may think. But as usual, I have a different
opinion. I don't think the story is really about justice for the
common folk, nor about being humble in every day life. I think the
story is about cruelty, which is sadly why it's so popular among
adults and children who read it.
On the one hand, I think there's a
predisposition in all of us to want be in conflict with others. This
has a wide range of expressions, but I think it's easily seen when
you remember your child-hood, and games like teasing or pushing or
play-fighting that you used to engage in. It's also apparent in the
way we do these things as adults, such as in everyday sport or
playful conversation. We tend to think that on some level, this
propensity to be mean is permissible, that it's normal, healthy,
innocent, and simply part of being human.
But on the other hand, I think there's
a part of us that actually enjoys hurting others, and this is
expressed in various ways throughout society. One of the most
striking, for me, is in our concept of justice. We tend to think, as
Nietzsche makes clear, that any injury consists of a right to
compensation. He writes:
“Let us make of the whole of the
equilisation process clear; it is strange enough. The equivalence
consists in this: instead of the advantage directly compensatory of
his injury (that is, instead of the equilisation in money, lands, or
some kind of chattel), the creditor is granted by way of repayment
and compensation a certain sensation of satisfaction—the
satisfaction of being able to vent, without any trouble, his power on
one who is powerless, the delight “de faire de mal pour le
plaisir de la faire,” the joy of sheer violence: and this joy
will be relished in proportion to the lowness and humbleness of the
creditor in the social scale, and is quite apt to have the effect of
the most delicious dainty and even seem the foretaste of a higher
social position. Thanks to the punishment of the “owner,” the
creditor participates in the rights of the masters. At last he too,
for once in a way, attains the edifying consciousness of being able
to despise and ill-treat a creature—as an inferior—or at any rate
of seeing him being despised and ill-treated, in case the actual
power of punishment, the administration of punishment has already
become transferred to the “authorities.” The compensation
consequently consists in a claim of cruelty and a right to draw
thereon” (Nietzsche, The Geneology of Morals, Part 2, Section 5).
In the story of the emperor, it seems
we're no longer playing an innocent game of teasing or pushing. It
seems instead that we're speaking about something grave in human
nature. Because the king treats others badly, he is now deserving of
a certain sensation of satisfaction. Everyday common people, his
servants and all those beneath him, can now delight in ill-treating an
inferior creature, to humiliate him by parading him naked in public.
This will be a lesson burned into his memory, to compensate everyone
for his kingly actions.
However, we might ask, as Nietzsche
does: “...why can suffering be a compensation for “owing”? -
Because the infliction of suffering produces the highest degree of
happiness, because the injured party will get in exchange for his
loss (including his vexation at his loss) an extraordinary counter
pleasure: the infliction of suffering—a real feast, something that,
as I have said, was all the more appreciated the greater the paradox
created by the rank and social status of the creditor” (Nietzsche, The Geneology of Morals, Part 2, Section 6). What results in the story of the
emperor, therefore, is a reflection of our deep desire for cruelty,
and the king's arrogance as a human and a person in his social
position becomes an excuse for that human desire.
You might think that if that's the way
it is, there's nothing wrong with the story. However, as with all
statements of fact and obligation, we should ask why that would be
so. As Hume once put, an ought doesn't follow from an is. So, I would
ask anyone who thinks that way to justify why every human desire
should be nourished. To me that simply seems counter-intuitive. For
instance, I may have a desire to defecate where I please, but it
would seem rather odd to say that I should be able to. It might be
that before I was indoctrinated with punishment not to express the
desires I have, this would have been permissible, and that it's only
that burning into my memory that makes me have intuitions about what
I should be able to do compared to the facts. However, I can imagine
a society where no such indoctrination based upon punishment exists,
but where you might still believe that not all your desires should be
expressed. It could be, for instance, that I understand that my
desire to want to murder a friend of mine, while something I feel
strongly now, would eventually cause me pain. I might realize that
after my feelings have passed, I would have a different desire and
long for my friend. So, while I can understand that perhaps a society based on
punishment forcibly prevents us from expressing ourselves as we would
otherwise freely, we are also rational beings.
This might show, therefore, that it's
at least not immediately clear that we should follow our propensity
to cruelty. If the emperor is doing something wrong, as rational
beings, we might also have to consider other possibilities. You might
think that the story is actually describing a type of rational
justice. It's not that people are being cruel, it's simply that every
harm deserves punishment. But this seems counter-factual to the
depiction in the story. Remember that the emperor is not simply
stripped of his crown and forced to work his life to give to others
(rather than take). Instead, the king is essentially humiliated. He's
tricked into believing falsehoods and into being displayed on those
pretenses in public. The wise servant in the story, therefore, is
actually being cruel, and the story basically says that this is funny
and permissible. What then would be a better ending to the story?
What would it have taken for there to have been a rational kind of
justice?
I think Nietzsche might disagree with
me that society can exist without punishment. Nevertheless, perhaps
as rational beings, this is something that might be entertained. For
instance, perhaps rather than parading the emperor naked through the
streets, it might be better if the king became enlightened. Perhaps
rather than having a rather wicked person who tricks him, a wise man
disguised as a servant begins talking with him. As the days go by,
perhaps the servant and the king become somewhat friends, and the
servant teaches the emperor how to be kind to others. In essence,
there are all kinds of endings that would be possible. But in all of
them, the presence of punishment would be absent. What the story
could teach us, in other words, is not that cruelty is permissible,
but that reconciliatory justice has merit. For instance, if someone
commits a crime against my body, perhaps justice entails all attempts
to heal it. Or if someone steals from my property, that I receive a
material equivalent. Of course, not all of us are kings, and not all
of us can provide the means for reconciliation. Nevertheless, perhaps
this is a goal for individuals that could be achieved as a society.
Perhaps, for example, laws are changed and funds are raised to pay
back my property.
There are other endings that would also
describe the more positive aspects of human nature. Perhaps rather
than yelling that the king is naked, the child in the story pulls a
robe from a store and hands it to the emperor. Perhaps the king, so
overwhelmed with the child's generosity, decides to be more prudent
with others. And perhaps the right to cruelty is no longer the
message of the story.
