The other day I was thinking about the idea of property and how it pertains to my life. What do I own, and what does the typical college student own? During my moment of pensiveness, the song Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros came on my IPod. This prompted me to think about the idea of home; is the house that my parents live in still my property, still my home? Was it ever my property to begin with? And, when do I become a visitor in my parent’s house? We all know it happens to everyone as they move towards adulthood. In the movie Garden State the main character, Andrew, addresses this mysterious transition. Andrew suggests that this loss of property, loss of home, is a “right of passage.” As college students we are in a time of transition where the definition of property in the context of our home becomes very vague as we start to approach this right of passage.
Professor LaVaque-Manty defines property as a claim against other people about a right to the continued use, possession, and disposal of some object, whether such object is currently in the possession of or in use by the owner or not. This definition allows us, as college students, to still claim our parent’s house as our property, since we have the right to continually use the house…well really just the washer and dryer. But when does this claim against other people, being mainly our parents, run out? Is it when, heaven forbid, our parents turn our childhood bedroom into a guest room? Or when we start to pay for our own living space with our own money?
That's how I feel when I think about that possibility.
What is even scarier to think about is the right to our “home” in the context of how Locke views the prerogative to one’s property. Locke asserts that if one puts labor (work) into something, that he or she therefore has the right to own it; it becomes his or her property. If we apply this theory to the typical modern day household, the right to its ownership is as follows: Dad and Mom have the right to the house because they work and therefore earn money to pay for the house, which transitively implies the work they put into the house. Additionally, they both do their respective chores around the house, actually known as putting labor into the house.
In analyzing Lockes definition of property, I realized that there is an problem with claiming ownership over my home in the first place. Legally, I have no ownership of my house; I never paid for it, or signed a mortgage. Yet, I still have a very strong moral claim over my house. The fundamental nature of growing up in a household creates this sense of ownership over my childhood home. My parents constantly referred to my childhood house as "our home," implying that I too had ownership of the house. More importantly, there is an intrinsic logical understanding that I too own my childhood house. The logic behind my claim yields to Professor LaVaque-Manty's definition of property; I continually used my house and therefore I have ownership over it. Clearly, there is an inherent disparity in claiming ownership over my childhood home. It questions the validity of the legal definition of property versus the validity of the moral implications of ownership. It's curious that most parents seem to regard their house as our own without question. They present an authorization of ownership over our childhood house. It seems that having a child automatically imbues a moral obligation on parents to allocate ownership of the house, among other things, to their child. Therefore, filial relationships create exceptions to the rules of property. This makes me wonder what other contexts or special circumstances prompt exceptions to the rules of property?


Excellent post! I strongly agree with your logic throughout, and find myself wondering the same thing you conclude with: what other contexts outside of the "home" does the line get blurred between moral and legal ownership. And why?
ReplyDeleteIn one sense, you could say the more one becomes emotionally tied to something, the more there is a "moral ownership." Along these lines, for something like a home - where legal ownership is exclusive - there would need to be an inherent consent for something to be 'owned' by a child and his/her parents.
In a different sense, you could point out said house was partially for the purpose of becoming a home of the child. For everyone involved, there are institutions involved in defining who has a right to what. A child granted their own room has a deep emotional investment in not only the home as a whole, but a unique appreciation for a part of the house. They may not have invested the money, but they invested time, experienced a wide plethora of moments within, and will forever have associations with that room.
It's a very interesting thing to ponder, both in the context of a home (especially at this time of our lives) and in the context of property as a whole. Thanks again for sharing Dante.
Awesome post! I would like to add my own feelings about the matter & also question some of the issues you brought up. I found this extremely relatable. Like you said, we are all going through the transition period you described.
ReplyDeleteI would like to propose the idea that calling something your “home” doesn’t necessarily imply that you are claiming ownership of the property. Being away from the place I grew up in, my idea of what is home to me has been constantly challenged. For example, my dorm is on North Campus but the only time I’m ever there is when I’m getting ready for the day. I typically sleep on Central, go back to shower (if I’m showering that day), go to class, then go to the library until it’s late. I live close so I go back to my hometown every so often to sleep there and have a meal with my family. If one were to make a pie chart of my time, a large chunk of it would be on central campus, the next largest at my boyfriend’s place, and the smallest in “my” dorm. A small sliver would go to my sorority’s house, where I go for meetings and sometimes to sleep. So where exactly is my home?
Living here for a while now, I’ve realized that “home” doesn’t have a solid definition. All of the possible definitions I’ve thought of are problematic. My time is equally divided between multiple places. Last week, I didn’t sleep in my dorm room once, and I rarely got ready there. If we define home as where I consistently spend most of my time…I’d live at the Ugli. I think everyone can see the problem in that.
This mindset takes the scare factor out of the idea that your “home” never really was your “home,” as it was never your property (as defined by Locke, or Prof LM). Locke doesn’t necessarily make any claim about the concept of “moral ownership.” As far as I’m concerned, what you choose to define as your home, or what you claim moral ownership of, is entirely up to you. To one person, their home might be where they grew up. Another person might’ve had a rough childhood or moved around a lot, so that definition doesn’t work for them. Someone might say home is where he or she sleeps, but not everyone consistently sleeps in the same place. To Edward Sharpe, home is “wherever I’m with you.” But clearly that definition is not universal; as I’m sure most people don’t feel that way about Edward Sharpe’s love.
I very much agree that the concept of both a home and property can be very difficult to define. On one hand, if we assert that a property can be owned when we put labor into it (Locke), then what happens when something/someone TAKES it (the property) away?
ReplyDeleteI have a very relevant example: Hurricane Sandy. This devastating natural disaster has caused people to lose their property, without a fair fight. In many places, all that’s left is remnants of what use to be their property. Do these people still own anything anymore? Aside from the devastation and sadness related to this event, it still illustrates a concept about stealing property and what that means for the original “owner.” This very much ties into Dante’s idea about our parents claiming over “our home” once we leave. And in the case of the hurricane victims, I guess Hurricane Sandy “took” over their homes too.
I think the biggest issue is entitlement that people have towards property. I mean, if you work for it, then you should own it, right? But when we go to define what “work” constitutes as or what it means for someone/something to take away your property, situations because speculative and hard to define. I think that’s why the concept of property is such a vital idea for understanding politics, especially because property begins to become defined as our rights to metaphysical things as well. And our overall definition of property determines our overall action to politically “act” to preserve it.
I would like to first say that I really enjoy reading your blog post because you tell a story that we all can definitely relate to, that is the idea of home. What exactly makes the place where we stay "our home"? Is it only a place where we can find our closest relatives? Or is it wherever we feel safe and at ease? Also, I agree that the moral sense of belonging does not necessarily translate to legal ownership of things as you have mentioned in your post.
ReplyDeleteAgain, being so far away from home, sometimes one question pops up in my mind: Will I ever be able to have a SECOND home? If so, does it undermine the very notion of home being one and only? Home as a place that is special and irreplaceable? Although I believe that having a second home is possible, I am more inclined to believe that there is only one place where you feel truly belong. And that is what I will consider home. Obviously, calling a place your home does not automatically entail the ownership of it. However, I think it is worth noting that the notion of ownership is not just about what is considered legal. More often than not, you grow an attachment to the things you own. Even after you no longer own it, you may still feel as if you do.
Overall, I think you have raised a really interesting point. Keep up the good work!