The Ring of Gyges
A exploration of where our morals come from, the effect of unaccountability and a modern adaptation of ‘The Ring of Gyges’:
(Unidentified voice begins to speak, somewhat wistfully)
VOICE: Of course it started when I found the ring. I didn’t know that then. I don’t even really remember how the ring came to me. I think I saw it in front of me on the footpath, glowing in the sunlight. And I picked it up. At first I offered it around, but no one claimed it. So slipped it on. (sighs) I didn’t really give it much of a second thought. However, after a couple of days I started feeling that people were not quite noticing me. In the que people began ignoring me, which was quite annoying to begin with, but soon I realised I could slip in and out of the que without people realising that they’d lost their spot. The problem arose when I actually wanted to buy something and people seem to look straight through me (laughs). Again this was quite frustrating, but I was still myself, I was polite and moved on. I just shrugged and left the shop. But eventually I started leaving the shop with items in my hand, without paying for them. Initially I would go back, but I was still annoyed that they’d just totally ignored me. (voice is slightly indignant) Why should I go back and pay for something when they’d disregarded me? So I quietly continued. Eventually I realised I could do this for something bigger. (pauses, before continuing regretfully) That was the beginning of the end. Food, shoes or clothes, everything seemed to be there for the taking. I just walked in then out, no one would take any notice, or even seem to see me. That was when I really started to suspect the ring. (speaking defensively) But I could just start taking things that had always been denied to me. It was so easy. I would just go into a shop, a car dealership or an airport, to hop on a plane. (recounting reminiscently) The world was my oyster. But I couldn’t tell anyone, (voice sounds more sad) and I couldn’t share it with anyone. Having the time of your life is not so much fun if you can’t you it would someone. Of course I knew by this point that it was the ring. No one could see me. At all. I tried to remove the ring from my finger, but it wouldn’t budge. I rubbed my finger raw trying to get that circle of silver off (the frustration of the past is evident in the speaker’s voice). I had drifted so far from the core of ‘myself’ I just assumed I could never get back. And it was from this perspective that I started to question what the ‘core of myself’ really was. (voice begins to speak very speculatively,) Was it an intuitive set of beliefs that define me uniquely? Or were ‘my’ beliefs actually just a reflection of the society that surrounded me, a sum total of all the societal pressure I had experienced. Were my morals and beliefs really intrinsic to me? Or had they just been the product of constant judgement? Was a descent into immorality assured as soon as I lost accountability to the outside world? (pauses) It was clear I had a choice. Either I could remove my finger, finally ridding myself of the ring, and return to society. Or I could decide that the only ‘me’ there had ever been was one constructed by those around me, and live a life independent of society and its beliefs. The only remaining question was: Who am I if nobody is looking? The choice was mine to make. (voice fades away)