Good People Don’t Break the Rules or Cause Harm. Only Bad People Do.

 “There is a foundational belief here, at the Institute for Erotic Intelligence, that our own bodies and experiences can, and indeed DO, ethically guide us when and if we choose to trust them.” — Rev Teri. D Ciacchi, MSW, past participant

About halfway through our last round of Embodied Ethics (enrolling now and beginning on August 31st), we paused from our didactic learning to explore the intimate consequences of the carceral system as it lives uniquely within each of us. Specifically, we took some time to acknowledge what it feels like, as practitioners (teachers, pastors, parents etc) to be in a position of power and responsibility within a system whose definition and image of ethical behavior is unquestioned obedience. A system that invented the narrative that there are ‘good people’ and ‘bad people’, and that good people don’t break the rules or cause harm while, of course, bad people do. 

We acknowledged that for many of us within this system we have internalized this undermining narrative:  ‘it’s merely a matter of time before I am found out and the truth revealed: that, it turns out I am, afterall, a bad person.’ 

In this pause, we explored what it feels like to navigate the complex terrain of power and responsibility while living within this system of good versus bad, that relies on shame and the threat of exile should we make a mistake or unintentionally cause harm. We located, within the intimate terrain of our own bodies, where the fear lives most palpably: where that voice of ‘don’t let them see you! Just stay hidden and you’ll be safe!’ lives. 

Then, we slowed down even more, closed our eyes, took deep breaths and imagined...how would I feel and what might be possible, if I lived humbly and transparently within a community that encouraged me to explore and develop my own ecologically embedded ethical compass, guided by my unique place within the community and my authentic responses, curiosity and longing? 

‘Ethics is how we behave when we decide we belong to each other’ 

Even though we were meeting on ZOOM and spanning several countries, the weight of fear, grief, and rage that filled the room was palpable. And so was the excitement, possibility and creativity. For me, the guide for our ethics journey, this was a memorable moment. 

It flagged, arguably, one of the most fertile areas to place our attention as we explore what it means to cultivate our embodied ethics within a disembodied, remote system that relies on our unquestioned obedience and our fear of humiliation and exile as its primary means of control. It also identified a  conundrum: How will we discover our ecologically embedded, erotically intelligent Ethical Self within a system that actively threatens us with exile––the very thing we are most instinctively afraid of?

It turns out that, just like our prehistoric ancestors, the threat of exile continues to be the greatest threat imaginable to us as we navigate the complex terrain of our ethical behavior in our roles of great responsibility.

When I say ‘exile’, I’m referring to the threat of being labeled as a ‘bad’ person, and therefore irredeemable, because someone else feels harmed by us. Exile can take many shapes, from being de-licensed and de-platformed to being shunned by our professional and/or personal communities. As our group of 20 people contemplated the weight of exile as it lives uniquely in each of us, some of us found ourselves quietly crying, and some of us felt imprisoned and enraged, the urge to fight against the imaginary shackles that concepts like ‘good’ and ‘bad’ impose.

We didn’t solve anything in this embodied practice. But solving wasn’t our goal. In this quiet pause, we simply began to acknowledge our (often unconscious) embodied experience of ‘ethics’ as it has been taught and told to us. If we are to identify and nourish alternatives to the system of unquestioned obedience we currently have, this is a crucial first step: acknowledging the ways in which we are each shaped by the philosophies and practices of the carceral system. Acknowledging the fear, rage, and numbness, as well as the curiosity, longing and possibility.  

If you find yourself hungry for a safe(enough) community within which you might explore your intimate and unique embodied relationship to ethics, a place to explore what your embodied, ecologically embedded Ethical Self looks and feels like, please do join us for Embodied Ethics, beginning August 31st and running for 12 weeks.