Eponymity and honesty

I have been publishing on this website since February 2011. I have written almost two million words across 1600+ articles. The word count is actually an underestimation of the work I do here, once we consider that many of my publications are in long-form video format. Plus, all this does not cover other extensive writings, such as the rich documentation I provide as part of my programming.

All this corpus has my name attached to it. I am always expressing my opinion eponymously. It means that I am both (i) prepared to stand behind my views and (ii) be held accountable for any errors therein. To me, the single most important virtue in a person is honesty, which presupposes courage and integrity. You cannot be honest if you do not have the courage to face your weaknesses, for example. And you cannot be honest if, say, you do not take other people’s criticism gracefully.

The Greeks call this parrhesia (παρρησία). There are no tricks, no gimmicks. You speak your mind in earnest, in a manner that is clear, and you recognise when you are mistaken. It is honourable to do so.

While I value anonymity as a right, which is especially important in combating tyranny (e.g. anonymity for whistleblowers or members of marginalised groups), I prefer to be eponymous in my public appearances throughout. This works as an accountability structure for myself. I have to think things through before I commit to them. I must express myself in a manner that gets the point across effectively, without engendering misunderstandings. In other words, I cannot afford to fool around.

This accountability structure keeps me honest by maintaining a high standard in what I do; high relative to my ability. In this sense, it conforms with an ethos of sportspersonship: to be competitive in a way that brings out the best qualities in a person. If I am lazy about it, such as by writing a short piece that I did not think through, then I am debasing the standard, lowering it well below the champion grade I aspire to be at.

Competitiveness in the form of sportpersonship is not the same as belligerence. It is not a kind of aggression, nor is it directed towards other people. The athlete commits to the long-term goal of trying their best and knowing when they cannot compete anymore. It is not about the results either, as it pertains to the intent and overarching behavioural patterns. The intellectual shares those qualities with the sportsperson. They, too, must live up to the standard they have set for themselves.

As a thinker, writer, and speaker, I consider freedom of expression to be integral to an honest society. If we cannot point out that the emperor has no clothes, we are collectively dishonest and shall suffer from our coyness accordingly.

Every freedom entails responsibility. Those who choose to exercise their liberty must be prepared to deal with the consequences of their actions. The person who is consistently free is, ceteris paribus, the one who is responsible and resilient. So if, for instance, someone who publishes an article cannot tolerate the fact that certain people will disagree with it, this individual is not prepared to exercise their freedom. It does not mean that their freedom is forfeit, but only that they have more growing to do as a person.

Parrhesia acknowledges adversity as part of life. The diversity in nature is also expressed as a plurality of opinions. The notion that we can please everybody in some way is but an illusion. Each thesis has multiple, potentially conflicting, antitheses. For as long as we stand somewhere (thesis literally means “position”), we do it in contrast to others.

Adversity has an impersonal form as well. To write consistently, for example, you must show the courage and determination to push yourself out of whatever inert state you are in. You have to work hard. There is no faking it.

While the law stipulates the age of adulthood for all sorts of good practical reasons, we must remember that this is not the same as someone being mature. There are plenty of adults who lack maturity and whose behaviour is indistinguishable from that of a child. They do not assume responsibility and will not acknowledge that their choices have consequences. Maturity is about sticking to something, doing it in earnest, and dealing with its aftermath. This goes for private projects, life style decisions, work obligations, and relationships. Where there is freedom, there is responsibility.

There is this conventional wisdom in my country that “the army makes you a man” (conscription for males is mandatory). I believe this is not the case. The army forces you to conform with rules, but this does not make you a disciplined person. It does not mean that you can set your own rules and live in accordance with them and, by extension, it does not guarantee you have consistency in accomplishing your tasks. At best, the army can inspire a boy to become mature by having to deal with adversity away from the comforts of his home.

A more reliable mark of maturity is what a person does out of their own accord. When they commit to something they like and try to do it as best they can without excuses. It is not about some objective high score of who is the greatest of all time at said task, but only how sincere and consistent the person is in the pursuit of it.

Eponymity is not a precondition for self-actualisation. It is but one of the many ways one can hold their self accountable. There is no right or wrong in how people go about expressing their individuality, within the scope of the law and common sense. What matters is that we understand freedom in its totality as rights to act in certain ways and to deal with the concomitant phenomena. Absent that, we will remain frivolous in our conduct and childish in how we eschew responsibility.