According to the Stoics, one must take responsibility for their actions and what is not within your power shouldn’t be of your concern. If my memory doesn’t fail me, Aristotle also said something similar about virtue, and own your actions guided by your own ethics, as did many philosophers I must presume. But what happens when you are a victim? What is the appropriate measure of responsibility, and how does it relate to culpability?
Let's suppose there's a child throwing a tantrum in the supermarket or the airport, or any place really, there is always one somewhere. While the child is the one misbehaving, the responsibility falls on the parents. But if the child is a victim of something a crime or abuse, the culprit is the perpetrator, and the responsibility still lies with the parents or guardians of the child—but until when? When do we start to be responsible for our actions and its consequences? Legal emancipation seems like the general rule.
Recently, a video surfaced of a distraught mother who, after calling the police, had to confess that she found a human head in her son's bedroom. Is that mother still responsible for her son after such an atrocious and unimaginable act? Something that no parent would endorse. Some act that, when it’s done, breaks their heart.
It's often distinguished that it's one's responsibility to protect their physical and mental integrity, as that is also extended to their assets and descendants. And any interaction from another agent that affects their integrity will be the fault of that agent. But to me, Stoic philosophy makes the dividing line between the two a bit more tenuous.
In Spanish and English, there's a saying: "la ocasión hace al ladrón" (opportunity makes the thief). That is, if I walk through a dark alley at night, if I leave the window open or the door unlocked, I'm inviting or inciting a crime to be committed. This experience and syllogistic logic is more common in Latin America than in developed countries, but it sure sounds like a fable from a vulnerable neighborhood, no matter where that is, that this way of thinking is ingrained.
You must take care of the little you have; if you neglect it, you risk losing it, and that's your responsibility. This refers to material violations—I have an object, and it's taken from me by force (robbery) or taken while my attention is focused elsewhere (theft).
It is my belief that Robbery is never the victim's fault. No matter how careful you are, if someone breaks your car window when you're stopped in traffic, to steal whatever is on the seat, there aren't many precautions you can take to prevent it. But when you leave the car parked and leave a valuable object, or sometimes nothing at all, and they break the glass to get something they've seen inside, like the car radio itself, the discourse changes.
There is an urge from poor people to not leave any opportunity to be stolen from, probably a consequence of another phrase “fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me”, so whoever has been a victim of a crime has the moral obligation of never becoming a victim of the same crime.
In matters of rape, the line is almost invisible to sexist people. If a girl drinks and dresses in provocative clothing, she's "looking for something bad to happen to her." But if the perpetrator drugs her and takes her to bed, I don't see what relationship there is to what she drank or how she dressed.
Let's blur the line even more: what happens when a woman pairs up with someone who abuses her, and not only that, but in order to keep the family together or due to the economic dependence that has developed, she decides to stay there? How responsible is that person for the events of her life when she is psychologically compromised? Some would say she is a victim of her own decisions, as if the one making the decision were another person. And in a sense, perhaps it is; neuroscience does its part in blurring the line between psychobiological predisposition and cognitive autonomy.
But the lesson behind it remains important. There is a point in the legal framework where a distinction is made between innocent and guilty, not between responsible and irresponsible. If I neglect my belongings, even for a second, that should not allow a third party to steal them. And the order of questions should be precisely that: first, who is to blame for the fact that it occurred—the primary agent, the perpetrator who carries out the incident. And then, the victim himself should determine the degree of accountability.
I add another paradigm: if a person has a biological or cognitive-behavioral predisposition to kleptomania, for example, which is something that has no cure, can they he, or she, be blamed for theft? And then the next question: can they be held responsible for what they do?
If the brain dictates our behavior, free will does not exist, and we have no real impact on our actions, could we determine with a degree of certainty that the crime was not committed by us, but by our biology, our genetics? Can we take responsibility for it? If we had no affections and/or if our childhood was filled with images of paternal figures or those we admired, whom we simply imitated, or people who commit the crimes we then try out. Can we blame video games and movies? Can we blame music or artists?
To finish this segment, I would argue the last examples can’t be. They have no relationship with the moral compass of a developing mind, as they do not belong to any psychological system. And that moral is shaped not by one system, but by systems, plural. According to the theory of Urie Bronfenbrenner, are these:
Microsystem: close relations; parents, friends, coworkers, etc.
Mesosystem: not so close; ex. relations between family and school.
Exosystem: the surrounding of you and your close ones; like politics and laws.
Macrosystem: sociocultural norms and values.
Chronosystem: historic context.
All of these systems add up to you being who you are, your relationship with each system determines what you think is right or wrong, from top to bottom. At the top, however, the microsystem includes not only parents, but also friends, coworkers, classmates. How many times have we done stupid things thanks to the influence of our close social environment, where is their responsibility as the social pressure figure?
“You're the average of the five people you spend the most time with”.
Jim Rohn
The Dilemma of Victimhood
This is the crux of the matter. Where do we draw the line between personal responsibility, as the Stoics would advocate, and recognizing genuine victimhood? When does the burden of responsibility shift from the individual to external factors beyond their control?
In a world increasingly aware of systemic influences, trauma responses, and neurobiological factors that shape behavior, can we still uphold the Stoic ideal of personal responsibility without dismissing the reality of victimization?
Perhaps the most important question we can ask ourselves: Is the Stoic philosophy of taking responsibility for our reaction to certain events, even when we can't control the events themselves, still relevant in our understanding of victimhood? Or does true Stoicism require a more nuanced view that acknowledges both personal agency and the very real impacts of victimization?
Each one of us have been a victim of something or someone, let’s recognize the true role of that position, let’s face the actual criminal and face our sensation of guilt with humility and space for forgiveness, let’s not kick the people while they're down, we must help them to get up because you never know when you might be the next one asking for help.