I think Looper is a terrific little movie. It hints at real philosophical distress, and suggests a solution, but to what exactly is up to the viewer to decide. Suffice it to say, it puts the issue of moral choice, and identity, in far better perspective than most Phil 101 texts. Again, it offers no answers… which is itself an improvement over many Phil texts.

Having lately finished re-reading Barnes’ terrific Sense of an Ending, I couldn’t help (or could I? Perhaps that is the question…) but mash up the moral quandaries of the two protagonists to find answers to human problems. I remember reading some time ago that the 40s were the toughest decade for those living in early 21st century planet Earth. There are all kinds of reasons, most notably that many in their 40s are part of the so-called “sandwich generation”–pressed between the demands of aging parents on the one hand, and of their children’s turbulent adolescence on the other. Add to this the physical and mental changes of this stage in life, the generally growing stress caused by work/life imbalance, work issues, etc. and you have the makings of a generally difficult and often challenging period. It strikes me, however, that there is another cause of some real existential angst underlying all of this: the accumulation of our choices to this point, and the increased ambiguity we must confront in the many choices we now make. Because the choices we are asked to make now are anything but clear cut, and in considering them we can scarcely avoid the baggage we have acquired as a result of all of our previous choices. It’s this that I think is shared between Looper and an Ending: the difficulty, if not futility, of trying to make moral choices today when confronted with the consequence of past (future) choices. Will this choice achieve what I hope it will, despite a multitude of evidence that suggests otherwise? Is it possible for me to be a moral agent if I can’t foresee the implications of my action? How does one come to terms with it all?

Adolescents make difficult choices when compared to the choices they confronted as children. But it is rare for them to have baggage, and the complexity of their choices is nothing compared to later in life. It’s frankly impossible to explain the reasoning of a 60-year-old man to his 17-year-old son as if their understandings were similar. I understand my father’s insistence on exercise and character development. But I am now 48 years old. I had no clue why any of this mattered when I was 17. And that is another problem with moral choice: it’s already difficult to understand our own choices, but understanding the choices of others is a truly daunting prospect.