Are our tastes subjective?
Is chocolate better than vanilla? Are apples better than oranges? Is spending time in front of the TV better than reading a book? Is poetry better than push pins?
The average Westerner likely believes he has an opinion, but that there is not a lot to it. For whatever reason, whatever cosmic forces of nature and nurture have intersected in his life, oranges are preferable to apples in his own mind. That preference just is.
The minority opinion, one that often appears stifling, callous, and abrasive, is that there is an objective truth to chocolate or vanilla. It bequeaths such a negative aura because, on its face, its auspices are of an arrogant, juvenile dismissal of a perfectly reasonable taste. This opinion is associated very much with “I don’t like vanilla because it’s stupid.” Such an argument does not inspire the trust of anyone but the easily bullied.
The path much less followed is somewhere in between. The definition of “subjective” is the problem. Concurrently, “subjective” may appear to mean both “different across people” and “arbitrary and meaningless”. The two definitions are often used interchangeably, and some may accidentally use arguments in favor of the “different across people” explanation of tastes to argue for “arbitrary and meaningless”. One may suggest that since one of the factors whereby we may enjoy good is nostalgia, and nostalgia is entirely dependent on an arbitrary set of experience, that taste in turn is arbitrary.
This argument only makes sense if you assume that subjective and objective are antonyms. Can we not say that the person who feels nostalgia feels something that is objectively true and real? That taste – effectively the chosen value of vanilla over chocolate – is something both rational and meaningful.
Stairs are only useful for people who are not confined to wheelchairs. At the same time, that does not mean stairs are only useful for society because people choose to desire stairs for no apparent reason. Ultimately, values are subjective across people and the innate differences people have are not at all subjective within the choices people make. Goods effectively “choose” the consumers. The consumers have little say in the arbitrary happenstance of their life. However, the wheelchair accessible ramp was able to provide value to the “taste” of the wheelchair-bound because the supplier of the ramp allowed it to, not because the presumably non-masochist wheelchair-user decided to use it over partaking in a Sisyphean journey up the stairs.
To take it one step further, who is to say that each of these bits and pieces of nostalgia and random occurrences of life (such as needing a wheelchair) are all the matters? Why can’t these factors be the noise that must be separated from some underlying signal? Most would agree that their distaste in dog feces is not based on their arbitrary experience in life. Chocolate ice cream, on some level, is truly “better” to eat than feces. It would take an especially strong “taste” in anthropological relativism to propose an alternative scenario, wherein one can seriously prefer dog feces. Can’t it be that there is an underlying truth to the usefulness and taste of chocolate over vanilla, or vice-versa, but that there is too much noise across individuals to figure that out? Perhaps the contrived anthropological hypothetical of some society or individual enjoying eating feces over chocolate is demonstrative of the extreme amount of noise required to cancel out the signal and truth of feces being a really bad thing to eat.
A difference in a taste for chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, blueberry, raspberry, or the myriad alternative desert flavors may be a simple random confluence of factors which caused you to choose one over another. It certainly is difficult to put words to that reasoning, and when people try to, it usually comes out as “blueberry sucks” rather than something someone can reasonably disagree with. It is virtually impossible to define. Going past such haphazardly defined taste, most of us are willing to accept the notion that Star Wars is a better movie than Gigli. Among aficionados, there is a general accepted continuum of the best movies, good movies, fair movies, and awful movies. There is the occasional, though infrequent, strong disagreement among experts, but tastes are by and large remarkably similar. It is true that certain times, the general audience disagrees with these experts, but in the long run, experts are either forced to come to terms with a demonstratively overlooked movie, or more often, the general audience allows a popular film to sift into obscurity. Each of these scenarios is consistent with the notion that the underlying values are difficult to discern yet there is still an underlying truth to the matter.
Take this another step forward, to the arena of religion, philosophy, and public policy. Socialism, wicca, agnosticim, intelligent design, affirmative action, analytical psychology, and whatever else you want to throw in there have zealous supporters and arguments their own. These are the “tastes” for which we can actually come up with rational arguments. It’s not nearly as simple to construct an argument in favor or blueberries as a dessert topping as it is to construct one against intelligent design. This does not mean that intelligent design is wrong, but one can state a reasoning against it.
Our tastes, and truly, our values, are neither subjective within individuals or undeniably true. They are indefinite. Knowing this, the only option is to understand our background, whether that be as a liberal, suburban Westerner, a Conservative Middle American, a Muslim, a Socialist Central American, or anything else, has partially induced our tastes and values, and that backdrop only serves to bias us against the underlying truth. Unintuitively, even a complete rejection of our background biases us in the opposite direction, as some of the truths taught by our background, or even all of them, may be real. It is a moral imperative to figure out what value is right, fairly weighed against others, before we start fighting for it.
The popular philosophical definition of both “subjective” and “objective” is wrong. They are not opposites. They do not defy each other. True subjectiveness lies in random tastes and experiences life has dropped on us, all of which is inexorably real. I only enjoy the mediocrities of failed comedies such as Dirty Work and Mafia! because I discovered them in my early teens, the breeding ground for nostalgia. True objectivity exists, but may only hope to begin when one is willing to rend one’s vestments of happenstance, genetics, and experience down past the clothing and to the naked, bare-boned truth, if I may complete such an atrocious metaphor. While it may be beyond humanity’s communicative power to elucidate the utility of strawberry ice cream over chocolate ice cream, we can perhaps hope to reach the day where we can inconvertibly argue for mixed market economies over planned economies, or vice-versa.