Coinciding with the Renaissance era was a time of exploration by countries of Europe. In particular, Portugal and Spain pioneered the oceans for "God, gold, and glory", or in other words, for the sake of missions, economic prosperity, and global influence/political dominance. Naturally, their European neighbors followed suit. Today, we often discuss their adventures with a heavy grain of salt and a disdainful tone as we remember the harrowing exploitations that took place. But upon reading French explorer Michel de Montaigne's Of Cannibals, I've come to consider that not every adventurer sought to prey upon third-world countries.
A view of the outside world molds the lens in which we view our own. Just as Montaigne saw cannibalism as less savage than aspects of punishment in his home country, travel can lead us to question our morals and mannerisms. This shapes our identity-- and perhaps most of all,
with whom we identify.
While living in Japan last August, I did more than just appreciate their culture-- I adopted it. This isn't meant to sound boastful, but to simply express how I related to certain aspects of their culture more than my own. Dignity, modesty, respect, diligence, politeness, kindness... all inherent parts of Japanese custom, and all values which I prize highly. I felt like a sound wave that had been tuned-in to the correct frequency.
This leads one to ask: did the conquistadors ever relate to the cultural ideals of their captive country better than their homeland? Did explorers ever long to live "tribally", or feel like a fish-out-of-water upon arriving home? Looking forward to the Enlightenment, it seems that the explorations of Europe paved the way for a new humanist empathy to take root in Europe.
Perhaps we'd do well to rethink our assumptions about the explorers. Maybe they, too, became strangers to their homelands, and in turn, propagated tolerance across Europe for the indigenous world.
In Sumner’s work, What
Social Classes Owe to Each Other, he passionately argues that “every effort
to realize equality necessitates a sacrifice of liberty.” He sees many people working diligently and
seeing success, yet the fruits of their labors are laid at the feet of those in
poverty. There is no motive to rise
above that condition when “social doctors flock about him, bringing the capital
which they have collected from the other class, and promising him the aid of
the state to give him what the other had to work for.” With these circumstances, the social
reformers and philanthropists, A and B, dictate what C will do for the poor,
D. And what does he call C? The Forgotten Man. 
