Yoshimichi Saito: Everyone Is an "Individual"

Perhaps due to the enforcement of "social distancing" during the COVID-19 pandemic, I have found myself doing things "alone" and away from others more often. When eating out, large group gatherings are out of the question; if possible, we are told to eat "alone" in silence. Maybe because of this, the concept of being "alone" seems to be attracting attention. We Japanese, in particular, have a strong sense of group consciousness and always feel uneasy unless we are in line with others, so we are at a loss when told to do something "alone." What should we do? If that is the case, there is a peculiar breed of people called philosophers who are always detached from the group, muttering something incomprehensible "alone." It might be interesting to ask one of them. Thus, it seems a request for a manuscript landed on the desk of someone like me. The idea being that I might say something interesting.

However, I am sorry to disappoint. It is not that simple. There is nothing particularly interesting to say. It is only natural that everyone is an "individual," and there is not a single thing to make a fuss about now. If everyone's awareness has finally turned toward that obvious fact, then I might go as far as to say, with a bit of spite, that the spread of COVID-19 wasn't entirely a waste. In other words, whether COVID-19 is spreading or not, the fact that everyone is an "individual" remains unchanged. But if we notice this and face this unshakable fact once again, that is surely a good thing. This is because if it is an undeniable fact that is inescapable for everyone, then how one deals with that fact will undoubtedly have a decisive impact on how one lives.

So, what does it mean that everyone is an "individual"? The easiest examples to understand are birth and death. You were certainly born somewhere, at some time. That is why you are living like this now. Can you have someone else take your place in the event of your birth? Of course, countless people have been born since ancient times, and many newborn cries are being heard at this very moment. But those are all other people's business; mine happens only once. It is obvious. Moreover, since no one is born because they intended to be born, I suffered it without knowing, and by the time I realized it, it had already passed. In other words, I have never experienced it in the present. I have never been present at it. Even though it is unmistakably about me and cannot be replaced by others (if it could, it would simply be that someone else was born), isn't it strange that it lies outside the framework of my own experience? If it were something I experienced, I might be able to do something about it, but if it is outside that scope, there is nothing I can do. That is how unshakable the fact is that I am "alone."

My death is the same. It will surely come, but since it seems to be equivalent to my own disappearance, I cannot experience it as my own event. Some might say that, unlike my birth, there is still room to do something about my death. Certainly, I can choose the time and place of my death. Suicide is the typical example. I can also choose how to die to some extent. Whether to die in a hospital with tubes inserted all over my body or at home surrounded by loved ones is not entirely beyond my choice. However, the fact that death will surely come and that no one but me will undergo it remains unchanged. It is possible for someone to die in my place in a certain situation, but that does not exempt me from eventually undergoing my own death. Suicide only hastens the time of death; it cannot lay a finger on the fact that I have no choice but to undergo that death myself.

But if the beginning and end of life are such that no one but me undergoes them from start to finish, then perhaps this life sandwiched between those two ends is also something that no one but me can undergo. Moreover, unlike the two ends of life, I can unmistakably experience it as my own. If so, isn't that something rare? I might be the only one experiencing it "vividly" exactly as it is, here and now. Others may be doing so in their own way, but it is not "vivid" to me in this way. This is what it means to be an "individual."

One last thing. I could never touch that "vividness" that others might be experiencing. Carrying all of that "alone," others are also born and will die. I cannot help but feel a sense of awe toward such others and their experiences. It is like a cheer sent from one "individual" to another. Doesn't the possibility of an invisible "connection" through things that can never be shared begin to show itself here? If the COVID-19 pandemic has reminded each of us of such obvious things, then that is probably a good thing. Thus, the philosopher muttered to himself, "alone."