These days, I’ve been reflecting on the concept of “Dignity.” It started with the “National Dignity Day” and now with “Breast Cancer Awareness Day.” But to engage with this concept, we first need to put it into perspective, quickly and, admittedly, in a way that suits me, for now.
I’ll start with two opposing but equally fascinating and relevant ideas.
The first is from Kant—Yes, good ol’ Kant—who proposes that human beings possess intrinsic and unconditional worth, which he calls Dignity. This Dignity is inviolable and forms the foundation of moral obligations, including the imperative to treat others as ends in themselves, never merely as means to an end.
So, in the Western corner of Dignity, we have the 800-pound philosophical gorilla, Kant, with his compelling argument that demands respect for human autonomy and the ethical duty to defend the Dignity of each individual..
This is the understanding of Dignity most of us share—it’s what Google tells you and what the majority of dictionaries would say: Dignity is the recognition of a person’s inherent value just because they are human.
On the other side, we have Confucius! Yes, that Confucius, perhaps an unexpected pick, but I find his approach to dignity—or more precisely, what he sees as “worthy”—to be golden for this discussion.
Confucius doesn’t talk explicitly about “Dignity” like Kant, but his ethics emphasize ren (humaneness or benevolence) and li (ritual propriety), which dictate how people should behave with respect and moral integrity. In Confucianism, Dignity isn’t an individual’s inherent property. Instead, it arises from how one fulfills their duties and roles in society, especially within hierarchical relationships—between ruler and subject, parent and child, elder and younger.
Yes, I know it sounds a bit rigid with all those hierarchical structures and duties, which to our Western ears might seem contrary to the idea of Dignity. But bear with me because the idea takes shape when we think about morality. In both views, morality becomes the interlocutor, executor, and protector of Dignity.
Let’s cut to the chase: Kant doesn’t place much emphasis on emotion or personal feeling when it comes to making moral decisions. For him, Dignity is about rational duty. Meanwhile, Confucian ethics value emotional harmony and social rituals. For Confucius, moral behavior is motivated by benevolence and a sense of care for others, particularly within relationships, (which, I dare say, often involve power dynamics).
A key difference emerges here: while Kant insists that moral actions should be guided by reason and a sense of duty, independent of personal feelings or social expectations, Confucian ethics emphasize context. Moral conduct is shaped by a person’s relationship to others, and Dignity is tied to the fulfillment of societal roles, rather than abstract, universal moral laws. This means Confucian Dignity is more fluid, linked to responsibility within relationships rather than the rigid autonomy Kant promotes.
Of course, this introduces the thorny issue of subjectivity in Confucius’s perspective. And, as we know, subjectivity is generally unthinkable in modern understandings of Dignity, especially as a foundation for Human Rights.
And rightly so—this point is not up for debate. There are already far too many transgressions of what we consider “Human Rights” to allow demagogues or opportunists any pause to argue this or that action while continuing with their abuses.
But then a rather unsettling thought occurred to me: what if, in reality, Kant—and by extension, we, as Westerners—fell victim to our own good intentions?
For Kant, treating people with Dignity means recognizing and respecting their inherent value as autonomous beings. But what if this emphasis on autonomy, under the guise of promoting freedom, has inadvertently fostered a kind of individualism that undermines genuine Dignity?
Through time, hierarchies have persisted, perhaps under different names and power structures, but they remain present. And somehow, they seem to be exploiting this growing individualism in society to shirk communal responsibility. By promoting “independent thinking” and this modern, emancipated sense of self, they divide and rule. Yes, it sounds a bit conspiratorial, but it’s not entirely crazy—actually, it seems rather cliché, or perhaps, it’s being naturalized.
By focusing on personal freedom and self-interest over communal responsibilities, we become, whether we like it or not, more manipulable, more vulnerable, etc.
The mechanisms for manipulation are endless, and in the wildly consumerist, dangerously irresponsible, and compulsively distracted society we live in, the real question isn’t whether we’re victims of manipulation, but how many different ways we’re being manipulated.
What bothers me most is this disconnect from responsibility, the disassociation we feel, as citizens and individuals, between power and responsibility, between action and consequence. Seriously, let’s put power on a therapist’s couch and psychoanalyze it, so we can diagnose it once and for all and make it take responsibility!
For example, think of “Identity Politics.” I’ve heard Zizek or Chomsky criticize these movements harshly, and on the other hand, there’s the idea that personal freedom is expressed through individual choice (what to buy, how to live, which career to pursue, etc.). Concepts that are very trite but are sadly still current.
It’s common to hear about freedom and personal responsibility, which sounds fair. But maybe, when we ask power to be accountable, we also play the victim? Is it really as simple as that? Or is this a way to blame individuals for systemic issues—another excuse for those in power to wash their hands clean? If someone is poor, unemployed, or in jail, it’s easy to say, “They must be lazy,” or “They made bad choices,” while ignoring structural inequalities like access to education, healthcare quality or affordability, or fair wages. This allows those in power to dodge responsibility for systemic problems, maintaining the status quo.
This individualism might create the illusion that people act freely and independently, when, in fact, most of our choices are conditioned by our social environment, media influence, and the narratives and identities controlled by power structures—speaking of hierarchies, whatever form they take. The more isolated we are in our individualistic thinking—bouncing around in our happy (or dystopian) echo chambers—the easier it is to manipulate our decisions. We proudly think we’re independent and unique, when in reality, we’re herded like cattle.
So, while it seems I’ve wandered off topic, I actually haven’t (I’m just making it dramatic). The fact is, thinking about Dignity through Kant’s imperative has somehow led us to this mirage of individual rights, to this irrevocable —and possibly irresponsible— independence, as we claim to deserve Dignity without assuming any responsibility.
By focusing the idea of morality, dignity, and rights solely on ourselves, we’ve lost sight of the “Big Picture”—our responsibility to the community, to others (both past, present, and future), which in a mature relationship with others, and with the world around us, would obviously and inextricably include responsibility and the prioritization of the common good.
But instead, we’ve embraced this idea of entitlement from the immature, reckless stance of an adolescent—with the supreme authority of arrogance and the irrefutable argument of “because I deserve it,” dressed in a thousand different slogans.
So yes, we speak of Dignity, and we’re supposed to all deserve it, but I’m not sure we even recognize it in others, let alone take responsibility for it. As my grandmother used to say, “Good at demanding, aren’t we?”
While Confucian ideas of hierarchy might sound passé, for us westerners, I actually think Confucius, like anyone, was a product of his time. His perspective on hierarchy wasn’t anchored or subjugated to power; on the contrary, it was tied to the concept of responsibility inherent to it. With an objective and mature view, he saw that power structures and hierarchies are always present. To deny or ignore them is to disconnect power from responsibility, and in such a context, I think that to speak of Dignity is to deprive the word of its full and legitimate meaning.