Philosophy of Dents
What makes a choice worth making? When we confront damage—be it to our possessions, our habits, or our character—how do we decide what warrants repair?
The big damages command our attention. A crumpled bonnet demands action. But those small imperfections, the minor scratches and paint chips that accumulate over time, present us with a more nuanced philosophical challenge.
Joseph Raz, in his work on autonomy and perfectionism, argues that meaningful choice requires not just freedom from coercion, but access to worthwhile options. Yet what makes an option worthwhile? Raz suggests it's not merely about satisfying preferences, but about engaging with genuine values.
Consider the person who decides to live with small dents in their car. They might frame this as pragmatism—a rational focus on what truly matters. But Raz would challenge us to examine whether this represents genuine autonomy or a subtle form of resignation. Are we choosing our standards, or are we letting circumstances choose them for us?
The philosophy of perfectionism doesn't demand flawlessness. Rather, it asks us to engage meaningfully with excellence in human activity. When we choose to fix small dents and touch up scratched paintwork, we're not merely maintaining appearances. We're making a statement about our relationship with quality itself.
Yet there's a deeper question lurking beneath the surface: What happens when we normalise imperfection? "Living with dents" might start as a practical decision, but like a rusting chassis, it can corrode our standards entirely. We might tell ourselves we're being realistic, but are we actually surrendering our autonomy to choose excellence?
The heart of this dilemma isn't really about dents at all. It's about how we exercise our autonomy in setting standards. Do we actively choose our level of acceptance, or do we let it be dictated by the path of least resistance?
Some might argue that obsessing over minor flaws reflects a neurotic perfectionism. But there's a crucial difference between perfectionism as pathology and perfectionism as philosophy. The former paralyses; the latter propels us toward better versions of ourselves.
As we head into the New Year, it's worth considering how many small dents we've been living with—in our habits, our relationships, our work. Not because we need to fix everything, but because we should be conscious of what we're choosing to accept.
Every small dent presents us with a choice. Not just about repair, but about who we are and what we stand for. The true philosophy of dents isn't about maintaining pristine surfaces—it's about maintaining our autonomy to choose our standards thoughtfully, rather than letting them be eroded by the steady drip of acquiescence.
In the end, we get what we settle for.