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What if during this season (the 21st century) Elijah (Benamozegh) came to your table?

Posted by nouspraktikon on May 4, 2024

Elijah Benamozegh (1823-1900)

Rabbi and scholar Elijah Benamozegh is seldom referenced today, which is a pity, since he was above all both an exemplar and advocate of what was called civilization. Today we live in a world spiraling down into barbarism. The barbarism of today has many novel features, like the surrender of human freedom to technologically empowered oligarchs, as well as the recrudecence of archaic enmities, like antisemitism. This might explain why Benamozegh is out of style, in addition to his reputation as a syncritist, syncritism being a dirty word in many circles. Yet it might be argued that the best answer to antisemitism is an appreciation of those Jews, such as Benamozegh, who have taken seriously the mission of the Jewish people to be a force for universal moral uplift. Such an appreciation seems far preferable to passing laws against antisemitsim. After all, just as laws against fornication and narcotics result in increased sex and drug abuse, laws against antisemitism are only likely to beget more antisemites. While I would be hard pressed to defend all of Benamozegh’s ideas (which were many and complex) he deserves praise as the kind of thinker who was diametrically opposed to the ideologies of our times which have led to division and moral degradation. His vision was a vision of unification and hope for the entire human race. If today the vision seems antiquated and the hope naive, perhaps it is due to our own lack of faith rather than the alleged overwhelming foces of destiny. As a citizen of 19th century Italy, reaping the intellectual harvest of the Renaissance and enjoying the freedom of post-Enlightenment Europe, the problems of civilization in general, and the relationship of the Jewish people to their gentile neighbors in particular, seemed eminently soluable. In that regard, it is easy to pidgeon hole Benamozegh as a dreamer, the product of a belle epoque who’s shelf life was soon to expire.

Yet from a metaphysical point of view, the weather was already stormy in the mid-19th century. Materialism had burst out into a position of sudden dominance, and moral relativism was lurking just beneath the surface. Wilhelm Dilthey, Benamozegh’s near contemporary, writes about the general intellectual atmosphere of their generation, “One system excludes the other; one disproves the other; none can demonstrate its own truth; we find nothing of the peaceful discourse of Raphael’s School of Athens, which was the expression of the eclectic tendency of that [i.e., Renaissance] time.”

Contrary to this collective cognitive dissonance of modernity, already manifesting itself in the 1800s, Benamozegh was offering not just an ecclectic discourse, but pointed out a pre-existent synthesis which had already answered the question “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” before it was first asked. Contrary to widespread view of Judaism as an inward looking ethnoreligion, Benamozegh maintained that the creed which he called Hebraism contained the seeds of all future forms of ethical universalism. Hebraism was seen by Benamozegh as adapting itself to human diversity through the functioning of a priestly variation, Judaism, and a lay variation, Noachism. For the vast majority of humanity, the onerous duties of religion could be narrowed down to seven basic rules based on the oral tradition of the Jews, albeit induced from a reading of scripture. These are a simplified Ten Commandments, notably excluding any Sabbath obligation. To common sense there is nothing odd or exotic about the Noachide laws, they are simply a formula which makes explicit most normal people’s previous, albeit tacit, sense of right and wrong.

Yet the mention of the Noachide code raises understandable alarm in some quarters, in so far as it is associated today with a coversion or semi-conversion route to Judaism, unatractive to almost all non-Jews, or with a proposed legal hegemony of Torah law over other legal systems, rejected by almost everyone, Jew and gentile alike. Neither of these contemporary “Noahchide” initiatives is reflective of what Benamozegh called Hebraism. Benamozegh was not calling for conversion to Judaism, but for the grounding of the world’s religions upon a meta-ethical foundation, rendering them capable of united resistance against nihilism and relativism.

After Liberalism, in front of the Creator

Combining an erudite understanding of traditional Torah Judaism, including Kabbalah, with an enthusiasm for post-Enlightenment Western philosophy, Benamozegh was in some way the very archetype of a catholic (lower case!) thinker. Either of these two encyclopedic systems, notoriously jealous and supicious of one another, typically required a lifetime to master. In his audacity, Benamozegh not only mastered both but explicated them according to what he deemed their concordance. It seems that his view of Christianity was not one of scorn, but closer to what a philosophical contemporary (H. Cohen) had said with regard to neo-Kantianism, i.e., “…a religion of reason based on the sources of Judaism.” But the reconciliation didn’t end at the boundaries of the West, since Beanmozegh could also see in Islam a simplified and universalized application of Hebraism. Indeed, beyond even the orbit of the Abrahamic faiths, Benamozegh could see in the traditions of India and elswhere the sparks of living and developing truths. This breadth of reconcilliation among diverse traditions was not the outcome of a mere ecclecticism or tolerance. On the contrary, it was born out of a confidence in the sovereignty of Truth working itself out through the complex diversity of human souls and collectivities. Benamozegh’s insights in this regard were based on his understanding of Kabbalah. Kabbalah is well known to be a deep and daunting subject, and not neccessarily an approach salutary to the spiritual development of just anybody. However when someone of Benamozegh’s caliber subjects themselves to the discipline of Kabbalistic understanding, the result is an astounding mental flexibility and a capacity to see through the surface contradictions of human life into the deep unifying themes of existence.

But here is the catch! This artful capacity to untie the knots of life’s seeming contraditions cannot be purchaed at the price of the relativism characteristic of modernity, notably through an ideology which calls itself “liberalism” but which is as different as night and day from the Old Liberalism which championed the natural rights bestowed by a benevolent Creator. Rather, this mental flexability, which is required to cope with differences among peoples, between individuals, and even within an individual’s soul, must be alligned to the most complete moral intransigence. According to Benamozegh’s understanding of existence, this morally intransigent function is expressed through the Noachide precepts.

The separation of ethics from metaphysics

To be candid, I am not some sort of top rated scholar of Elija Benamozegh’s works. I have just tried to give him an honest and sympathetic reading. One might ask, why should anyone spend valuable time attempting to understand such a complex and seemingly antiquated thinker? I have come to a conjecture on this matter, based on a reading of Maxwell Luria’s translation of Israel and Humanity. It seems there is a tacit theme which underlies Benamozegh’s thought, which though unstated can be discovered through induction. That theme is the separation of ethics from metaphysics. Here is the take away, and the most important message that Benamozegh has to share with us today.

We live in a time when the specter of palpable evil hauts the world. All informed people of good will understand this. However these people, the people of good will, are divided by convictions on metaphysical issues. Some are religious and some are secular. Among the religious there are differences as to the nature of the divine and the spiritual world. Even among the secular there are metaphysical differences, some being purely naturalistic materialists and others believing that there is some level of autonomy which is proper to mind expressing itself through human nature. Furthermore, between these and other dimensions of metaphysical disagreement there are countless intermediary positions. Now neither I, nor (I think) Benamozegh, capitualates to metaphysical relativism or ontological pluralism. No doubt there is a single order of Being veiled behind the seeming complexity of our perceptions. However it is not so easily found out, and even the most sincere people can have honest disagreements as to its ultimate nature. The point is that the discovery process takes time, and the quest for metaphysical certainty seems like an ever receeding goal. We must grant individuals and nations time to arrive at that certainty. As someone once said, “Work out your salvation in fear and trembling.”

However with regard to the solution to the world’s ethical problems we have run out of time. If ethics were a problem like metaphysics, there would never be enough time. However an important message from Elijah (Benamozegh, though no doubt others have born the same message in different words) is that ethics is outside of time and can be both understood and applied immediately. Hence the Noachide code says “Don’t curse the Creator!” (even if you don’t belive in the existence of a deity), and “Don’t kill your fellow human!” (even if you think she or he is a soulless organism), “Don’t torture animals!” (even if you can’t proove that animals are intelligent), and so on and so forth.

Divided by metaphysics as they may be, people of good will are united by the intuition that ethics are absolute and not the outcome of an evolutionary, or even a discovery process. Everyone knows this, but it is hard to grasp without a sense of cognitive dissonance, since we cannot easily imagine thought which is independent of time, either psychological or historical time. Benamozegh and the Kabbalists cut through this cognitive dissonance by reassuring us that these precepts were “revealed on Mt. Sinai.” This is, of course, a nod and a wink for saying that the precepts are timeless. After all, the Sinai event took place so long ago that it belongs to mythic time, that is to say timelessness.

Even an atheist should be able to accept this. Indeed, all people of good will can accept and apply the “Noahchide precepts” which are nothing more than a cypher for natural law. Or rather, they are something less than that, they are natural law without historical development, natural law which is certain and immediately applicable by any individual with regard to their own life, or any concienciously conviened authority with regard to society as a whole. Even an atheist could live a life with human dignity on Earth if such a concept of immutable ethics were generally received on this planet. Then again, someone who really belived in a “Sinai event” might even get off-planet. Without a rocket, but thanks, at least in part, to Elijah.

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How to destroy a civilization: Alasdair Elder’s Trojan Horse makes a case against Cultural Marxism and (almost) succeeds

Posted by nouspraktikon on February 15, 2024

If you had to take one book on Cultural Marxism to a desert island…or the mental isolation of the postmodern world, would this be it?

For conservative and libertarian intellectuals writing books on Cultural Marxism has become a bit of a cottage industry. Needless to say, I haven’t perused more that a fraction of them, but my current favorite is Alasdair Elder’s The Red Trojan Horse: A Concise Analysis of Cultural Marxism. This is mainly because, short as the volume is at under 170 pages, it has more depth than other treatments of the subject which I have read. Yes, it covers the “march through the institutions” by the Frankfurt school, and yes it also reveals the sources of “progressive” mind control and left-wing bullying, but these histories are covered by numerous sources, and in greater detail. We know that Critical Theory has been successful in canceling out a great deal of what used to be considered the bedrock principles of Western Civilization. How did this occur, and are there historical reasons deeper that just the opportunism a left-wing intellectual collective? Elder’s book provides some good pointers towards an ultimate and satisfying answer, and I can recommend it wholeheartedly. However as a disclaimer, I should mention that I don’t know Mr. Elder, or really anything about him other than what appears in the back matter of the volume, i.e., that he is a business executive turned writer living in England. From internal evidence I would guess he was educated in Britain, and may even have a background in the history of ideas, possibly specializing in 19th century German or British Idealism, but that is just conjecture. 

Having said that, and as concise and grounded as Elder’s work is, I think it could be improved on, so what follows is not so much a review of the work itself as some contrarian meditations suggested by themes treated in the Red Trojan Horse. I will take three points into consideration. First, the books merits are its concision and relative depth for a work of its kind. Second, the reader is informed of how the psychology of Freud and the ethnography of Boas and his disciples provided themes (irrationalism and relativism) which were later exploited for purposes of forced social transformation. Third, in spite of readability, the reader may get the false impression from Elder’s work that the Freudian and Boasian scientific movements were manifestations of Cultural Marxism, but this would be anachronistic. Although Elder has some interesting things to say about the movement from logos to pathos as a tendency within early 20th century psychology and ethnography, I think the more troubling development, long term, was the general transition from objective to subjective science beginning in the 19th century and continuing apace up to the present. By “objective science” I do not mean positivism. I mean something closer to what Augustine and other traditional thinkers have hinted at regarding the cognition of reality according to the light of a transcendent and objective mind. My major criticism of Elder is that he exempts positivism from the treatment he dishes out to the softer, hermenutic, sciences as precursors of Cultural Marxism. In an age of “wokeness” Elder’s criticism of Freud’s reversal of the roles of pathos (feeling) and logos (reason) commands admiration. Yet even if we were able to escape the madness of post-Modern relativism, and restore the rule of reason, what would guarantee immunity against the deceptions of pseudo-logoi, such as positivism and other forms of scientism?

A possible answer to this dilemma lies in the possibility of mythos (deep narrative) in some instances pointing the way to objective truth better than science, as Elder’s use of the Trojan Horse (symbolizing deceit) illustrates. Ironically, Elder’s title from the Trojan cycle resembles the manner in which Freud drew from the Theban cycle, i.e., to alarm and sadden the reader. However, on a more optimistic note, the enduring popularity of Homer’s works is an instance of the truth-bearing relationship between narrative and eternal verities. Consider how we come into an awareness that the Greeks conquered Troy, from Greek, not Trojan sources. Yet in spite of an assumed bias towards “winners justice”,throughout the ages everyone reading Homer has understood, if only tacitly, that the narrative around Troy is a tragedy, not a comedy. Think how remarkable this is. After all, why should we not take the narrative as the successful outcome of cultural evolution, as the victory of a more efficient early iron age society over a late bronze age society? Fortunately our myths (including Homer’s) humanize us, and make us at least dimly aware that there are standards of morality, justice, and ethics which subsist in a realm outside of time and the iterations of power dynamics. Objectivity breaks through subjectivity in the last place one would expect it, not necessarily in logos, let alone pathos, but in mythos.

In our time, Cultural Marxism is currently in control of “the institutions.” None the less its status as a successful outcome can only be justified if one accepts the legitimacy of an alleged historical dialect, of a winner-take-all mentality in which the present has an automatic veto over the past. This is the opposite of an authentic, i.e. Socratic, dialectic in which mutable minds seek the immutable principles which sustain the world of appearances, a tentative endeavor which frequently involves a great deal of backtracking and revision. In contrast to the flat world of historical materialism, we can intuit both from deep narrative (Homeric, Biblical, etc.) and from dialectic (Socratic) the presence of an unchanging ethical realm which both transcends and ultimately renders judgment on the fluctuating world of power and valuation.

Quite appropriately, Alasdair Elder grounds his criticism of Cultural Marxism on ideas, in the spirit of Richard Weaver’s maxim “ideas have consequences.” This is a deeper basis than those who have mainly concentrated on the success of propaganda. Not that propaganda is unimportant, but rather, as Jacques Elul stressed, it is only technique, however powerful. It is a method of amplifying a message, whether this involves selling a commercial product or an ideology. The amplification of the ideology tends to obscure the question of whether it is true or false. The 20th century saw a dramatic rise in the effectiveness and application of propaganda. Perhaps the most successful application of propaganda to ideology was that of the Critical Theory/Frankfort School and its numerous offshoots, down to the present “woke” agenda. However propaganda was also employed by several other ideologies, either vaguely related to or antithetical to Marxism. Elder is not the only author to note this 20th century application and amplification of ideas, be they bad or good, commercial or political.

What makes Elders Red Trojan Horse a more satisfying treatment of its subject is its retrospective treatment of 19th and early 20th century developments in philosophy, anthropology, and psychology. These disciplines, perhaps in good faith, or perhaps not, provided much of the data, if not the ideological foundations, for the movement which would later be developed by the Frankfurt school now known as Cultural Marxism. Examining this involves a necessary step backwards into history, by which we can grasp the fundamental principles separating classical Western thought from Marxism, and classical Marxism from Cultural Marxism, and from there to judging which mode of understanding merits giving or witholding our assent. For without some underlying principle worthy of conviction we are lost in a subjective web of contesting ideologies.

Concise but deep

In the eight slender chapters of the Red Trojan Horse you are likely to find as much about Cultural Marxism, Critical Theory, and the Frankfurt school as any non-specialist needs to know. But the distinctive merit of the volume is in the even narrower confines of the first two chapters, which deal with fundamental shifts in Western thinking in the late 18th and subsequent period up to the outbreak of the First World War. It was these transformations in thought which created an environment easily exploited by propagandists for Cultural Marxism. I will attempt to improve on Elder’s concision and posit an even deeper ground for what he is trying to convey in these two chapters. However in the spirit of a positive review I want to point out the strengths of Elder’s approach before I make my emendations.

One thing that sets Elder apart from run-of-the-mill conservative and (especially) libertarian thinkers, is his careful treatment of, and respect for, the thought of G. W. F. Hegel. To me this is a kind of litmus test. The anti-Hegel vitrol seems to have got its main impetus with Sir Karl Popper, who implied that this admittedly obscure philosopher was a buffoon whose works were a waste of any student’s time. Since then this giant of philosophy seems to have gotten into the rogues gallery of American conservatism, and even stigmatized as a godfather of Cultural Marxism, as if previous allegations that he was a proto-facist and a harbinger of Nazi ideology were not enough. These characterizations of Hegel have long since been been treated and largely refuted by scholars such as Shlomo Aveneri and Charles Taylor, but the bad reputation of “Heglianism” persists in the English speaking world, especially recently due to a legitimate preoccupation with the origins of Cultural Marxism.

Elder seems to have a better grasp of the historical nuances. Hegel’s thought is a monument to the shift in Western thought from the static idealism of Plato to a more evolutionary perspective. Nobody should be surprised that Hegel didn’t succeed in resolving the antinomy between eternity and the flux of history. In this respect his philosophy of history had a precedent in Augustine’s City of God, with the caveat that Augustine was by far the more authoritarian of the two, since he collaborated at the onset of church-state consolidation and persecution in the 4th/5th centuries, while Hegel’s state was the limited and constitutionally grounded ideal of the post-Napoleonic world. Augustine was perfectly aware of what the Roman emperors were up to and usually raised no objections, at least on libertarian grounds. In contrast, Hegel had no prophetic insight into the future trajectory of German authoritarianism. I suspect that he would have been rather alarmed at the excessive militarization, mechanization, and regulation of even its early, Bismarkian manifestation. Further historical debacles gave rise to the expression “Hegel died in 1933.”

Likewise Marx, having tried to turn Hegel “upside down” in his youth, abandoned philosophy entirely as the ground of his system and embraced Darwinian materialism. Later, when the Frankfurt school, Lukacs and others start to hatch Cultural Marxism, they tried to ransack Marx’s youthful works for useful insights, and this implied a limited rehabilitation of Hegel on the left. However Hegel was not a salient influence, rather, he along with the young Marx was just the kind of putative ancestor than even a revolutionary requires for symbolic purposes. Elder is atypical for a conservative scholar writing in the English language in that he seems to recognize this, and refuses to follow Popper’s gambit of throwing Hegel into the one-size-fits-all basket of “historicist” villains. The only thing Hegel can be blamed for is trying to do the impossible, and trying to square the circle of eternity with the flux of historical process. In this regard he is hardly unique.

Hence the origins of Cultural Marxism cannot be attributed to philosophy, at least if we are willing to limit what we call philosophy to the standard canon of thinkers who involve themselves with metaphysics, logic, and ethics. The worst that we can say about philosophy is that its failure to adequately address and resolve the concrete problems of human existence after the time of Hegel created a lacuna into which a plethora of one-sided sciences and ideologies intruded. These all had, to one degree or another, a mix of beneficial and negative consequences. Some of these became the basis, together with some flotsam and jetsam from the wreckage of Marx’s thought, the basis of Cultural Marxism. Elder identifies two sciences (it might more fair to call them “paradigms”) as the salient foundations of what later became Cultural Marxism’s “Critical Theory”…and still later what we call “wokeness.” These two are psychoanalysis and cultural anthropology.

Elder finds a Fraud in a Lagoon

Elder calls psychoanalysis the work of Sigmund “Fraud” and lampoons the cultural relativists of American ethnography as writers of “Blue Lagoon” romance. The stories behind the promotion of these allegedly scientific paradigms indeed contain several scandals that often read like cheap pulp fiction. Elder reveals enough of these steamy scenarios to show that these scientist-heroes of yore were unlikely candidates to be the conscience-bearers of modernity or the secular saints of a new humanity. However if we take a broader look than that provided by Elder, we can see something even more troubling than Freud’s questionable dealings with his clients or the disciples of Boas forsaking ethnography for romantic tale-bearing. 

If we step back and look at changes in the structure of knowledge during the half century prior to the First World War, it would seem that Western intellectuals had moved, post-Hegel, from failed completeness to intentional incompleteness. Freed from the great system builders, every branch of study was left to fend for itself and carve out its own empire. Granted there was some merit in this pragmatic approach which let the flowers of research bloom as they willed, or at least as far as the newly reorganized academic systems would permit. However to the extent that every paradigm went off on its own trajectory without considering any possible distorting effects which they might have on the interdependence of general knowledge, there was a tendency towards incoherence. No doubt it is sometimes reasonable to purchase an increase of knowledge at the cost of some temporary confusion, but then there are also seemingly brilliant ideas which are destined to function as spammers wedged into the gears of civilization. Freudian psychoanalysis and Boasian cultural particularism are prime examples of such highly insightful, but ultimately destructive paradigms. Unsurprisingly, they both provided source materials for what evolved into Cultural Marxism.

That said, the reader of Alister Elder and similar authors should recognize that neither Freud nor Boas nor any of their immediate disciples had any inkling that their work would later be appropriated and made to serve the purposes of a political movement. I say “immediate disciples” since there were eccentric figures who were soon eager to mix politics with the new psychology, e.g., Reich and “Orgone Theory”, Bretton and Surrealism, while ethnography initially found more application by governments (of various ideological persuasions) than by movement Marxists. The deceits of the “Trojan horse” would blossom somewhat later in time, and beginning in Frankfurt, not in Freud’s Vienna, or even in the still centrist Columbia University of Boas. Even so, psychoanalysis and cultural particularism were flawed from their outset, even before they became the instruments of political opportunism. Yet these flaws were not malicious, but rather characteristic of young, exuberant programs of research eager to take over and reorganize human knowledge without taking any responsibility for the effects of such a reorganization. I don’t think it would be going too far to praise both Freud and Boas as superb empirical investigators. If they had merely restricted themselves to the proposition that everything human…each action, artifact, and oddity…needed to be catalogued and curated, they would retained a deserved reputation for heroic discovery.

Rather, they took on the stature of virtually Copernican revolutionaries. For Freud this may have been due to his own hubris, but in the case of the more cautious Boas, due to the importune adulation of his disciples, especially the female ones. To say that a Copernican revolution had been effected is rather unfair to the humility of Copernicus himself, in so far as the author of the modern heliocentric theory never claimed that he was the world’s first astronomer. Yet by mid-20th century it was widely mooted about that the study of the mind began with Freud, and that “anthropology” had started with the beginnings of academic departments called such in Germany, the U.S., and the U.K.. This will look very familiar to 21st century intellectuals and even not-so-intellectuals, since we now have a common word for that kind of treatment. We call it cancelling. Somehow avant le mot, as it were, psychology and the human sciences before Freud and Boas had gotten cancelled, at least in many mainstream academic circles.

Again, we must be on guard not to give Alasdair Elder’s book the kind of reading which casts the paradigms of Freud and Boas as crypto-Marxist, for they were anything but such. Indeed, hardcore Marxists of the time would have seen both of these as reactionary notions, Freud’s work in its solicitous regard for the mind of the bourgeois individual, and culture theory as a reversion back to philosophical idealism. Whatever cancellation they entailed was the result of scientific hubris, not the political malice that we have come to associate with the word. In the Western world prior to the First World War, when material progress was rapidly being accepted as the norm, it was commonplace to assume that “out with the old and in with the new” was a safe promise in the realm of the intellect as well. Indeed, if Freud, Boas, or anyone else of their generation had managed to build up a new synthesis of knowledge, one which would inspire and reconsecrate the human race to higher levels of maturity, morality, and enlightenment, who would have begrudged them such an accomplishment? Who would have objected if new and more fitting approximations to truth were to supersede, not to say cancel, older and less adequate ones? Truly, all subsequent generations would have been blessed if that had been the case.

But in fact that was not the case. The effect of psychoanalysis and cultural anthropology was to shatter the mirror of human understanding, or rather to augment and continue a shattering process which had long since been initiated by other movements and paradigms. In some terrible way, the new sciences of that time seemed to reflect the human devastation of the Great War of 1914-1918. Whether this temporal coincidence indicates a relation between the sciences and the war which was purely accidental, or causal, or consequential, or perhaps what Jung called a synchronicity, must remain a moot point. Yet omens and innuendo aside, it is incumbent on any critic of Freud and Boas to specify precisely what it is about their respective sciences which made them, ultimately, delusive rather than enlightening, and as a consequence inimical to either individual or social well-being. Alasdair Elder has given us his version of this, and now I will attempt to be even more concise and axiomatic. Once we have specified the poverty of the these two human sciences, circa 1920, we will then understand how, in a separate action, the founders of Cultural Marxism were able to pick up the shards of incomplete and shattered knowledge, subsequently weaponizing them as instruments for social conflict.

The Madness is the Method

I would contend, and I suppose that Alasdair Elder would agree, that neither Freud nor Boas nor any other scientific founders of their generation were able to generate an “Philosophical Anthropology” in the same sense intended by those classical systems of thought which, whatever their failings, had once inspired some sort of normative ideal of what it meant to be human. Freud debased psychology by making mental illness the paradigm for understanding human nature. Boas held up ethnography as the basis of anthropology, which implicitly endorsed tribalism as the fundamental characteristic the of human species.

Alasdair Elder puts it somewhat differently,”The cultural determinism that Boas advocated would eventually become ‘multiculturalism.'(Trojan Horse p. 50) And further on “This is comparable to romantic nationalism…” (ibid.) However, multiculturalism (left) and romantic nationalism (right) are both political policies while in contrast to both, Boasian ethnography was simply a scientific paradigm. True, Franz Boas was a man of the left, but it was still the old liberal left which advocated cosmopolitanism and abjured nationalism. He could not foresee, that through some sort of malign alchemy, the scientific program that he initiated would be transformed into divisive policies which would undermine his own liberal creed.

Likewise, it is an oversimplification to designate Sigmund Freud as an instigator of the the sexual revolution of the 1960s in America and elsewhere. Whatever ad homium tales Elder and others may be able to regal us with, we need to beware of “casting the first stone” in the Christian idiom, or the lashon ha-rah, i.e., “wicked tongue” in Hebrew, especially when it comes to matters of sex. There is a certain type of conservative who would blame Freud for “putting sex into peoples minds” but in fact it was already there long before Freud. As his post-Modern critics have frequently noted with contempt, Freud himself advocated the subordination of the instincts to the governance of the ego, and not the free expression of desire which has subsequently been popularized.

Hence, if we view Freud and Boas as superb researchers who were also credible moralists, what fault can we attribute to them? When Alasdair Elder or anyone else blames them for undermining the foundations of civilization, is this an unfair accusation? No, it is a reasonable conjecture, provided we understand that they were not instigators of something called “Cultural Marxism.” Then what is it that we can blame Freud and Boas for? Or rather, what what it blameworthy in the scientific paradigms that they initiated?

These paradigms can be blamed for shattering the notion of a universal human science predicated on a universal human subject. Of course nobody would deny that empirically human knowledge is distributed among conscious individual human beings, or that it is aggregated within human groups corresponding to local, linguistic, and social differences. Nor would anyone deny that the nature, quality, and quantity of knowledge varies from person to person and from group to group. However in classical civilization, and not just the classical civilization of the West but in any society where people had enough faith in objective truth to contend over differences of opinion, it was assumed that there was a final court of appeal. One might say that all normal people tacitly recognized a kind of universal mind, a mind which, upon judicious observation, might determine that the Moon was either round or triangular, but not both at the same time. Of course the exact metaphysics of such a tacitly understood objective mind varied a great deal, again both among individuals and among groups. Some were bold enough to use the potent “G-word” and others preferring a more ambiguous agnosticism. Perhaps the most militant formulation of objectivity was that of the Spanish-Muslim philosopher Ibn Rushd, known in the West as “Averroes.” Averroes insisted that ultimately all human beings share in one universal mind, and that the peculiarities of personality and opinion are due only to the accident of embodied existence.

The axiom of universal mind can be reformulated as an idealized individual subject who is ultimately the singular knowing subject gazing upon an intelligible universe. Historically, this more humanistic formulation was somewhat more compatible to Western sensibilities than the noetic monism of Ibn Rushd.  The notion of a universal knowing subject was implicit in much of what the early Christian Fathers said about the “Christos” and continued down through history until we get to Freud’s junior colleague Carl Jung, who spoke about the “Anthropos.” However it was formulated, and in spite of sectarian odium, either religious or secular, the notion of a shared human project most famously called “Science” (amongst many other names) persisted in the West up until, and through, the 18th century European enlightenment. This Science needs to be distinguished from subsequent understandings of science which become the instruments of multiple knowing subjects in competition. Naturally there have always been different objects of knowledge, which range from a general knowledge of Being (ontology) down to the knowledge of, for example, one particular sub-atomic particle. These are all legitimate divisions of knowing within the ambit of the universal knowing subject’s activity in relation to the known world. 

This normal process of the refinement and specification of knowledge is not the same as what I have pointed to as the “shattering” of Science from the 19th century onward. Furthermore, this perennial Science of a universal subject gazing upon reality has always coexisted with instrumental sciences dedicated to promoting the ends of multiple subjects. There have always been sciences dedicated to gaining wealth or power, sciences of persuasion and deception, sciences of aiding friends and harming enemies. One may quibble as to whether to call such knowledge science or just cunning, but their main characteristic is that they presuppose the division of interests between multiple actors, often operating in competition for zero-sum goals. Like the noble Science of universal mind endeavoring to understand reality, these forms of cunning have been perennial and ubiquitous throughout human history. They did not suddenly pop up sometime around the end of the 19th century.

What, then, was the tragic course which was initiated during the 19th century, and has continued to intensify ever since? It was the abolition of Science in the noble, objective, sense and the assimilation of academic learning to the level of cunning. This is not to say that professors ceased to be gentlemen, and subsequently even ladies and gentlemen, but that in terms of epistemology the subject on who’s behalf they founded their projects of knowing ceased to be a unified archetypal mind, and knowledge became (here, and importantly, not just proximate but ultimate knowledge) the property of individual minds or of groups composed of individual minds. This was the shattering. It was not an act of conscious criminality, but it was a tragic blunder. Hence we might be justified in saying that the essence of Western civilization was unwittingly destroyed even before the onset of what is today is called Cultural Marxism.

Picking up the shards, and refashioning them as propaganda

Science had already been rendered subjective long before the Frankfurt school began to pick up steam in the 1920s. Sane and reflective people thought that the disappearance of objectivity could be managed without negative consequences. It was thought that the scientific consensus traditionally guaranteed by objectivity could be finessed by the compromise position called “intersubjectivity”, and that the grounds of mutual understanding and tolerance could be muddled through on the basis of understanding (Gr. Verstehen) and sympathetic interpretation (hermenutics). Unfortunately there were already, on the political level, a variety of movements both “left” and “right” for which conflict, not harmony, was an ultimate value. For such movements the disappearance of objectivity, and the emergence of what is today called “multiperspectivalism” (tacitly, not yet as a slogan) among the sciences was a tremendous opportunity which was quickly grasped. The most successful of these movements was the Frankfurt school, together with its allies and offshoots. The fragmented sciences sowed, and the political/propagandist schools reaped. The latter did not add anything to the overall knowledge base of the sciences other than improved techniques of propaganda and behavioral modification.

Here is where I think Alasdair Elder misses a chance to take his criticism of Cultural Marxism to a deeper level. He seems to think that science, as it had developed by the beginning of the 20th century, would have been able to sustain a sane and just civilization if it had not been hindered by its Marxist nemesis. Having dismissed Freud and Boas, he spends the rest of his book, six chapters, in an accurate and readable chronicle of Cultural Marxism’s misadventures. However he starts off on the wrong foot by making a false dichotomy between the irrational doctrines of psychoanalysis and cultural relativism on the one hand, and the supposedly scientific doctrines of behaviorism on the other. Yet all of them together are only sciences in the sense of craft or cunning, not what might be be described as noble Science.

The relationship between Cultural Marxism and behaviorism can be clarified by understanding that Cultural Marxism is a form of propaganda and propaganda is in turn a form of behaviorism. Whether one calls any of these a “science” is beside the point. As I have been at pains to point out “science” is an equivocal term, and has historically been used to designate contrary modes of knowing. Once the ideal of objective mind is shattered, epistemology defaults from the questions of what is to be known to who’s knowledge is this? From there it is only a single step to ginning up a war between one class of knowing subjects against another class. That is precisely what the Frankfurt school and their allies did, they took the incoherence of the modern human sciences and put them in the service of a class war. To give them credit, they have been winning the war, at least so far.

However, as with the Greeks of Homer’s tale, the victory is only in the present, not eternity. Somewhere there is bound to be an Aeneas setting sail with a remnant of Trojans, and we will see what the future holds. In all events, truth will ultimately be judged by a dialectic which is more Socratic than historical, and in accordance with a deep narrative that we have understood since the beginning.

Posted in Anthropology, Culture & Politics, History, Paleoconservativism, Philosophy, Politics, propaganda, Science, Traditionalism, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

What Miss. Rand saw and why it still matters, Part 1: The anti-Kant hypothesis

Posted by nouspraktikon on October 19, 2023

Back to the foundations of morality

In a time of escalating crises, reflections on the foundations of human action and cognition seems almost like an unaffordable luxury. Yet in the present moment when the civilization/barbarism antithesis has made a sudden (perhaps short-lived) comeback, we who remember the 20th century recall the rhetoric of Miss Rand. Yes, that Miss Rand, the one with the deliberately provocative counter-feminist preferred pronoun. Call her what you will, a shallow philosopher, a bad novelist, or even someone who was jointly complicit in the formation a cult centering on herself. Yet she excelled as a writer of essays and manifestos, of which the most important was her “For the New Intellectual.” Leaving aside the validity of Ayn Rand’s other notions, the central hypothesis of her manifesto has yet to be either refuted or elaborated since its publication in 1962. Here I am reopening her brief on the Critical Philosophy of Immanuel Kant, and to that end I will proceed by further simplifying Rand’s already streamlined take on the history of Western thought.

The salient thought of the manifesto is epitomized by one bold hypothesis: The decline and ultimate canceling of Western Civilization was initiated by the popular reception of Immanuel Kant’s Critical Philosophy. On the face of it, this is an outrageous assertion, given Kant’s status as a pillar of the Western philosophical tradition together with his image as sublime moralist. Furthermore, Rand added fuel to the outrage by implying malicious intent on Kant’s part. None the less, it might be worth while to extract the core hypothesis from Rand’s ad hominum innuendo, with the purpose, not of condemning Kant, but of salvaging whatever might be its value to intellectual history. The core hypothesis is non-trivial, and indeed might be of great importance if it could identify (as Rand claimed) a root cause of civilization’s destruction. After all, we know plenty enough about the proximate causes, ranging from war to inflation to censorship to terrorism and so on and so forth. Let’s give the Rand vs. Kant case a hearing, not because we have any sympathy for the way Rand’s following degenerated into a cult (or cults), but because the hypothesis itself deserves testing. If Kant can be vindicated, then we will owe his historic memory an apology. On the other hand, if the hypothesis is substantiated, we will have a plausible answer to a seldom asked but important question: Why do we speak of “the European Enlightenment” as a period which has a tacit closing date around the beginning of the 19th century, nomenclature which seems to imply a following age of darkness? It would seem unlikely that the following age has duped historians into cloaking its decline under the attractive aliases of Industry, Democracy, Science and Romance. Furthermore, even if we grant the onset of spiritual and moral decline, this might be attributed to any number coincident factors outside the realm of philosophical discourse ranging from the French Revolution to the harnessing of the steam engine. However those of us who stubbornly adhere to Richard Weaver’s adage “ideas have consequences” are always gratified when an intellectual cause can be hypothesized for the progress or regress of civilization.

Now if the anti-Kant hypothesis, in some form or other, can be vindicated, then things become much more interesting, and much more constructive, since the hypothesis implies a corollary. If Kant is a wrong turning, then we can take up the thread of pre-Critical ideas and develop them in ways which were precluded after Western thought took a wrong turn at the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th centuries. Rand’s thought hints at what such a possible civilization might have looked like, and what it might look like in the future if the “war” (here a metaphor for intellectual struggle) for civilization could be won. Rand herself is a kind of unicorn, and while her thought was generally well intended and well articulated, it is incomplete and insufficiently robust to carry out the kind of renewal of civilization which she envisioned. Correcting this requires filling in the missing links in Rand’s history of rationalism, which may turn out to have many forgotten (or covered-up) items both in her sketch of intellectual history and among the people and ideas which formed her own views. Ultimately neither you nor I should be interested in the perpetuation or justification of Rand’s thought, but only in the nature of “what is” and how human life should proceed in accordance with that truth. Yet Rand remains significant even if the only thing she ever did was to alert us to a fatal flaw in the thinking of the West. Perhaps it is truly fatal, and the West cannot be saved, in which case all we will have is the satisfaction of knowing the cause. Or perhaps the ancient threads of rationality can be picked up again and extended into a brighter future. Frankly, I am much more interested in the corollary of the anti-Kant hypothesis than in the hypothesis itself. Yet exploration of the corollary will have to wait until the hypothesis has been reiterated with greater simplicity and lesser animus than in Rand’s initial presentation.

Problems in Rand’s articulation of the hypothesis

At the outset, to maintain that Immanuel Kant was operating out of bad will in the development of his Critical Philosophy is simply counterfactual. Nothing has brought more discredit to Rand’s hypothesis than her mischaracterization of Kant as an evil human being, as nothing could be further from the truth. Anyone who has even the slightest knowledge of the Sage of Konnignburg’s life and times will see the enormity of the slander. This is not to say that an “evil philosopher” is necessarily an oxymoron. I have my own misgivings about Frederich Nietzsche, Martin Heidegger, and especially J. J. Rousseau, the last of whom even the generally tolerant David Hume thought demented. More to the point, during her life and afterwards many people intimated that Rand herself was evil, and these included not just her predictable left-wing critics but fellow conservative Whittaker Chambers. Unlike Chambers I think that Rand was a passionate advocate for goodness and truth.

Indeed, perhaps she was too passionate, at least for a philosopher. My hunch is that she lashed out at Kant because she intuited a deep flaw in his thinking which she couldn’t describe with sufficient exactitude. The strong points in her anti-Kant manifesto are rhetorical, in which she links the splitting of reality into a noumenal world and a phenomenal world with a division of labor between priests and tyrants, whom she strikingly characterizes as the “Witch Doctor” and “Atilla [the Hun]” There are some problems with this from a historical point of view, primarily in that the categories of noumenal and phenomenal predate their adoption into Kant’s system. None the less, the reader gets a vivid impression that a “divide and conquer” scheme has been used to impose mental chains on whomever adopts Kant’s reasoning. So far so good, but when it comes to the analysis of Kant’s system rather than just its characterization Rand has trouble following through with her insight.

At first blush it would seem that Rand’s quest against post-Kantian thought is poorly aimed. For instance, in terms of his general moral tenor, Kant was neither a political nor religious apologist. On the contrary, Kant saw himself as an intellectual opponent of both tyranny (Atilla) and priestcraft (the Witch Doctor). Yet, significantly, he framed his dialectical inquiry not in terms of the tyranny/priestcraft doublet, but rather as a critical overcoming of the skepticism/dogmatism antithesis. Let us grant for the moment that Kant was successful in this endeavor of staking out a middle ground which in some sense incorporated the strengths of both skepticism and dogmatism while avoiding the weaknesses of either. But at what price? Did this overcoming of pre-Kantian thought set the stage for even deeper moral dilemmas in subsequent philosophy? This is a matter which must be considered before we move on to celebrate what Kant called his “Copernican revolution.”

Before we can answer this question we need to have a clear, succinct, and non-trivial definition of Kant’s Critical Philosophy. It is easy enough to dislike Kant for some non-essential reason. Rand herself falls into this trap when she lampoons Kant’s exposition as deliberately obscure. This has been a complaint of many others beside Rand, although the innuendo of bad faith is probably unique to her. More to the point, complaints about style sidetrack serious consideration of a writer’s salient thoughts. It is up to the reader to extract the essence of a complex body of thought.

Here I will go out on a limb and give my impression of Kant’s general movement of thought. At the price of raising academic hackles, I am striving for simplicity and clarity. It seems to me that Kant has overcome both skepticism and dogmatism at the price of grounding his philosophy in psychology. Now certainly, I realize that many Kant scholars take exception to the characterization of the Critical Philosophy as a form of psychologism, but here I am not trying to fine-tune my, let alone anyone else’s, understanding of Kant’s thinking, but rather attempting to elucidate what Rand sensed to be the terrible error in Kant which sent Western civilization down the path of destruction. I think she sensed right, but could not articulate the reason adequately, a painful irony for a thinker who valued explicit reason over what she called “sense-of-life.”

The Heart of the Matter: Unleashing the demon of Ethical Inventionism

If we define “ethical inventionism” as the arbitrary promulgation of values and ethical standards by human creators operating independently of either God or nature, then Immanuel Kant was, if anything, the opposite of an ethical inventionist. None the less, he may have opened the door for the rise of ethical inventionism in Western, and subsequently global, civilization. Arguably, this was the end result of the reception of Kant’s Critical Philosophy, first in Germany and later throughout all of Europe and its civilizational appendages. It was not, as Rand implies, a direct result of Kant’s metaphysics, but rather a consequence of the towering prestige attained by Kant’s formal ethics, which ostensibly surpassed all previous debates over substantive ethics. This movement towards a mental and formal ethics had as its unintended consequence, the eclipse of the lively debates over natural law, which had been the essential context within which European, and especially German, thought had developed throughout the 17th and 18th centuries. Whether or not we want to call Kant’s transcendental philosophy “psychologistic” or not, its ideal and absolute character had, as the first of many unintended consequences the rise of the German historical schools to fill the gap left by the diminishing of natural law discourse. This void could not be filled by Critical Philosophy due to its ideal, and in the realm of sociopolitical theory, utopian implications.

The movement from abstract theory to history as the context for thinking about politics, law, and ethics does not, in one fell swoop, take us from immutable ethics (proper to both divine command theory and its friendly rival natural law theory) into the chaotic world of ethical inventionism. Furthermore, the development of history as a field of understanding is nothing to be disparaged. None the less the shift from natural law thinking to historicism, (whether of German provenance or otherwise) is evidence of a transition from thinking which uses principles to using narratives, and from deductions founded on universal axioms to parochial us/them inductions, from humanism to tribalism, from enlightenment to romance. Parenthetically, the last term is viewed as compatible with rationalism in Rand’s philosophy, but here we are not pointing out potential contradictions in her thought, but only her anti-Kant hypothesis.

We see the above mentioned transitions at almost exactly the turn of the 18th and 19th centuries which is also the period of the initial reception of the Critical Philosophy in Europe. Coincidence is not proof of causality, but it gives some grounds for examining Rand’s claim that Kant was an irrationalist, despite the near-universal verdict that he was a rationalist, albeit a rationalist who’s works were obscure enough to generate endless disagreements among his interpreters. The grounds that Rand stipulates for Kant being an irrationalist are not cogent in so far as she implies the segmentation of reality into noumenal and a phenomenal spheres defaults on a supposed requirement of rationalism to encompass all being with a comprehensive explanation, or at least a set of explanations. Hegel, who did exactly that, does not escape her ire either. Most importantly however, Rand herself does not pretend to offer a comprehensive account of being, as if such were a requirement for a rational philosophy. On the contrary, she deliberately precinds from making any statements on cosmology, on the sensible observation that a philosophy attempting to provide its followers with stable standards of thought and behavior will be constantly undercut if it attempts to ground itself on a science which is in a continual state of revision. To her credit Rand is seeking an ethics which is reliable, stable, and objective. Furthermore, while she frequently uses the word “metaphysics” in her own ideosyncratic way, the heart of her philosophy manifests itself in her ethics, and that is where we should expect to find validation of her anti-Kant hypothesis as well, in ethics rather than in metaphysics or epistemology.

Highlighting ethics means bypassing the usual understanding of how the Critical Philosophy developed, seen as an attempt to overcome the logjam created by equally well-argued dogmatism and skepticism. In a sense Kant’s solution, far from being a compromise between rationalism and its doubters, resulted in a kind of hyper-rationalism. However it was a rationalism rooted in the mind rather than any exterior or even interior (psychology in the vulgar sense) reality. One might hail it as the third (after divine command and natural law theories) and vastly improved version of an immutable ethics. It should have stabilized civilization and set the bar for unlimited future moral progress. Yet within a hundred years Nietzsche was already hinting that the dark gods had returned. Translated into the language I am employing here, the era of ethical invention had arrived. Nietzsche could see that once ethics had turned into an expression of human creativity, it didn’t stop at a little stylistic dabbing, a custom here, a moral there, but rather painting with broad strokes, turning evil into good and good into evil, if only to satisfy the creators that they had the power to do so.

All of this is far removed from Kant, who conceived of moral standards, like pretty much everything else, as being “hard-wired” into the human mind, and not susceptible to meddling. The will was empowered to comply with the standards, or ignore them, according to its choice, but it was not free to change the standards themselves. Kant’s ethics included and consolidated elements from previous exchanges among enlightenment and religious viewpoints and furthermore raised the bar of morality according to strict notion of duty. Generally speaking consolidation and high standards are good things. However the vicissitudes of human events often turn even the best of intentions into traps for the unwary.

It was the Roman emperor Caligula who said, “If only they had one neck!” [That he might chop them off, i.e., the Roman people as a whole, with one blow.] In a sense Kant, in his Critical Philosophy, provided the Enlightenment with one neck, a consolidated system which reconciled and extended much of the previous century’s thought. Furthermore it was too strong to be chopped off, even by the guillotine of dogmatic materialism emanating from France in its late form of “ideology” which declared human thought processes to be epiphenomena of biological and economic realities. Instead Kant’s system melted in a slow and insidious fashion which lasted through most of the 19th century.

It was the post-Kantian idealists themselves who initiated the metamorphosis of the immutable mental categories into dynamic historical processes. Taking advantage the Critical philosophy’s consolidation of rational categories into a mental/ideal framework, Fichte introduced the ego as a unifying principle, while Hegel integrated history into idealism. This introduction of the time element was, none the less, limited and ordered. But with the rise of materialism, with its implication of a strict determinism of laws exterior to the human mind, the radical aspirations for freedom which had been awakened by German idealism and romanticism were crowded into a displaced and disinherited mental realm. Thus limited, and in order to attain parity with the new evolutionary thinking of natural history, idealism had to lay claim to its own powers of metamorphosis. In this transformation of post-Kantian thought, ideas became the opposite Plato’s unchanging essences. Ideas now became fluid thought-forms, created and modified by the genius of human cerebration. The greatest consequence of this movement was an increasing tendency to see systems to morality as arbitrary constructs invented by human beings, these being either individual law-givers or groups acting in concert.

Conclusion

When we divide all possible ethics into either systems of immutable morality or systems of moral invention, it is clear that Kant’s ethics, whether we agree with it in substance or not, rests firmly within the former, immutable, camp. Kant’s “revolution” is not a revolution in the contemporary sense of an emergence of novel form out of a prior state of being. It was a revolution in the classical sense of a restoration of primordial form from the corruptions of time. Even something as seeming radical as his transcendental turn was only a movement in terms of a discovery process delving down into hitherto unexplored realities. It was not the promulgation of a new reality birthed by human thought. The freedom and autonomy spoken of so highly by Kant and his followers is only the disciplined freedom of moral attainment within an objective system of formal ethics. It is not the freedom to set one’s own standards of morality. So we must reject Rand’s characterization of Kant as “subjective.”

None the less, when Kant placed the location of an immutable morality into the mental, as opposed to the theistic or natural sphere, he opened the door to the possibility of moral inventionism. The major fruit of invented morality during the 19th century was the perfection of positive law, replacing natural or traditional law, and reflected in the consolidation of state power, signaled the rise of the various “gods” of sovereignty, popular, autocratic or otherwise. The minor though well-advertised counterpoint to this was the bourgeois decadence of celebrated individuals, attaining their own godhood through moral invention which characteristically involved inversion of norms. In the 20th century the first tendency intensified through the spread of universal state warfare, allegedly countered, but in fact complimented by universal revolutionary agitation on the part of revolutionary professionals. The 21st century has seen the combination of major (state) and minor (individualist) moral invention, with the public sanctioning of anomic behavior.

Assigning ultimate responsibility for this degeneration in civilization to Immanuel Kant seems rather unfair. None the less, in this modified form Ayn Rand’s anti-Kant hypothesis appears cogent. Left to their own devices, neither the rationalistic nor skeptical modes of thought popular in European philosophy prior to Kant would have been capable of birthing the moral inventionism of latter times. It took Kant’s static psychologism (or if you will “mentalism”) to suggest later dynamic roles for the human intellect in constructing novel moralities.

So much for the hypothesis. I hope at some point to comment on the possibility that Kant’s immediate predecessors shared much with Rand. It is always interesting to see if Rand, who denied any homage to other philosophers aside from Aristotle, was in fact influenced by unnamed sources. More importantly, if there are missteps in Kant, what can we learn by returning to the pre-Kantians? If we are able to pick up where those long abandoned trails left off then perhaps we will be, in Kant’s own words “…on the road to a true science.”

Posted in Ayn Rand, conservatism, Ethics, History, Libertarianism, Ontology, Paleoconservativism, Philosophy, Politics, Traditionalism, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , | Leave a Comment »

Thirteen good reasons why Ayn Rand’s works are salutary reading for non-Randians, and especially for youths

Posted by nouspraktikon on April 18, 2023

“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” Today, even as the clocks are striking thirteen for free societies all over the world, we still recognize this as the first line of 1984, George Orwell’s enduring dystopian novel. In contrast to Orwell, the reputation of Ayn Rand, even among the pro-freedom crowd, has not been nearly as fortunate. Perhaps this is because it is easier to ridicule utopias than dystopias, and unlike Orwell, who was simply a disgruntled leftist, Rand was trying to sketch out a system of positive ideals, a so-called “philosophy.” It is the usual fate of utopian writers to have their readership dwindle into small sects, while suffering the ridicule of mainstream opinion. None the less, even as a non-Randian, I feel there is something indispensable about Rand’s witness to the human spirit, and that her works should be assured a permanent place in the cannon of liberal (or at least conservative) arts. I can think of numerous reasons why this should be so, even for those of us who don’t go all the way with the so-called “Objectivist” philosophy. Some of these reasons you may find quite surprising, or even amusing…what follows are a bakers dozen of them.

The First Reason

Ayn Rand was an atheist. Now the excellent thing about atheists is that they cannot blaspheme God by using slanderous assertions predicated of an existent. Recently atheism has become more popular among young people in America. The reason for this is not that atheism has suddenly found better reasons, but because the religious world is in disarray and by and large has become a disgrace to its Creator. Those religious organizations which have not become fronts for left-wing or globalist agendas are blindly sectarian and more interested in scoring debating points than honoring the Author of Being. The ontological salience of Rand’s works (her novels and essays) consists in showing an ordered cosmos which human beings can improve or degrade depending on whether their actions are ordered in accord with a subsisting Reality or not. Such atheism is in fundamental agreement with genuine piety, and especially with apophatic or “negative” ways of thinking about the Divine. Yes, she says lots which is critical of religion, most of which is true. Yes, she never refers to God as a positive existent. Neither does the book of Esther. To get a theology out of such a book one has to triangulate back from the explicit to the tacit. In some ways this is easier to do with Rand than with Esther.

The Second Reason

Ayn Rand was not an individualist. That is, not by today’s standards. Today’s individualists think that they can alter reality through the power of sovereign and arbitrary choice. Rand’s fictional heroes are singular in their embodiment of ideals to which they offer total devotion. These ideals, in turn, must conform to the overarching realities of existence. If the ideals are true to reality and the character is true to the ideal, there is ultimate success. Granted this is fiction, but it is edifying fiction in so far as it encourages intelligence and creativity. Much of the so-called individualism of today reflects magical thinking, which differs from any kind of creative thinking which follows the contours of reality. The mythological unicorn is a thing of beauty, but only a fool actually wants to become a unicorn. Even if science were capable of granting such a wish the likely outcome would be a beast, not a beauty.

The Third Reason

Ayn Rand believed in the human soul. Her soul was not the ghostly soul postulated by the hylomorphic and supernaturalist schools of opinion. Such souls may, or may not, exist. Yet beyond all doubt, the soul predicated by Ayn Rand exists, although the understanding of its import is threatened by the nihilistic naturalism of post-modern thinking. If Rand was loath to invoke the “s-word” with any regularity, it was due to her aversion to religious jargon, but she followed Aristotle in his premise that the sum of human action and thought was greater than the total of its organic parts. The attainment of human ends through action in time cannot simply be reduced to instinct and motion. This may seem to many a very minimalist view of the soul, but it is sufficient to secure the greatest significance of the concept, i.e., the notion of human dignity. One famous psychologist contemporary with Rand actually wrote a screed entitled Beyond Freedom and Dignity. Rand understood that there was nothing beyond freedom and dignity except for slavery. Today’s technologically empowered social engineers understand that as well, which is why they are eager to limit the idea of humanity to a small bandwidth on the continuum of organic life.

The Fourth Reason

Ayn Rand did not believe in progress. She certainly believed in the desirability of improvement in the arts and sciences, and in the enrichment and refinement of human life. However she did not think that improvement was inevitable, or that civilization carried any guarantee that it was on some predetermined track towards utopia. Not believing in progress, still less could she be described as a progressive. She was not what Eric Voegelin would have described as a “gnostic” harboring a grudge against the present in hopes of a brighter tomorrow…indeed, any sort of eschatological thinking was completely alien to her. Perhaps this is why a genuine man of faith like Whittaker Chambers could misunderstand her so badly. Knowing that she rejected the left-wing Hegelian utopia of ever-increasing equality, he may have guessed wrongly that she endorsed a right-wing Hegelian utopia of ever-increasing inequality. Rand believed in an open future, the prospect of which contains both promise and peril, and where the burden of the outcome rests on human shoulders, not an inscrutable destiny.

The Fifth Reason

Ayn Rand believed in language. It still seems a bit odd to endorse someone for “believing in language” even though it is becoming alarmingly clear that language is in danger of reduction to a sub-department of engineering. Not just engineering in the sense of computer languages and coding, but more ominously, social engineering. Rand had the old fashioned habit of interrupting an essay to give a standard English dictionary entry of some word, the definition of which pertained to the issue at hand. In an age of logic chopping language analysis it seemed a naive procedure, perhaps an artifact of her having acquired her English facility as an adult. Yet it showed her faith in the meaning and rationality of language and that terms could express the acquired wisdom of a civilization. Her belief that words could represent ideas and objects unequivocally, so uncharacteristic of 20th century ways of understanding language, was in accord with the basic Aristotelian premise of knowledge as a form of identification and participation, not self-constructed isolation. It must be admitted however that she did have her 21st century sounding “preferred address” as Miss Rand, which she continued to use throughout her married life.

The Sixth Reason

Ayn Rand was not pornographic. Nor were the love-scenes in her novels simply “romantic” in the usual sense. They were romantic in broad, technical sense that Rand and other romantics have used for their school of art in general. To put this in somewhat non-Randian terms, the people and situations in a truly romantic novel should represent archetypes, not concretes. Of course erotic art, not to mention pornography, seeks to represent the concrete. Indeed, the “love scenes” in Rand’s novels were intended to shock, but the shock was not erotic, rather the scenes used sexuality as a symbol for a hierarchy of values and persons in a world where egalitarianism was rapidly becoming the sole standard of acceptability in all things, including relationships. Understandably feminists were scandalized by scenes which portrayed male erotic dominance. However enlisting conservatives into an anti-Randian front on the basis of a feigned horror of pornography is hardly credible. After all, it was Simon de Beauvoir, not Rand, who helped normalize the writings of the Marquis DeSade. Rand couldn’t even stomach Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, which perhaps stands to her credit.

The Seventh Reason

Ayn Rand did not believe in capitalists. She believed in the free enterprise system, which she joyously dubbed capitalism. At the time “capitalism” was an endangered term which seemed to be going the way of “fascism” as a pejorative. Rand played a big part in restoring it to respectable use, at least among conservatives. As for capitalists in general, she had no illusions. Her novels featured them as their worst villains, creatures of conformity who either gladly or under duress were willing to betray and destroy the very system which had lifted them and their peers to prosperity. Her praise was reserved for those few entrepreneurs who struck out on their own and created novel things and ideas. If Rand could see the world of contemporary “woke” corporations and their cooperation with nefarious policies and ideologies, no doubt she would exclaim, “I told you so!”

The Eighth Reason

Ayn Rand was optimistic about human beings. She did not believe that the human race was damned at its inception. On the other hand neither did she go along with J.J. Rousseau and his followers in their belief in pristine human innocence. Along with vindicating words like “capitalism” and “selfish” she labored hard to get moral relativists to reinstate “evil” as term descriptive of aberrant and harmful human behavior. However in the world-view of Rand, good was primary, while evil was a usurping shadow of genuine existence. In this regard she stood shoulder to shoulder with the best traditions of Western religion and humanism. While Rousseau saw the origin of corruption in the arts, urbanization, technology, and economic exchange, Rand saw all these things as beneficial. For Rand the origin of evil was intellectual, namely the rejection of reason, and its ultimate result was political coercion. She thought the deepest evil occurred whenever coercive agents were claiming to control their victims “for their own good.” This view is rendered quite plausible by today’s ethos of politicized victimization. More controversial perhaps, is Rand’s claim that the propensity towards evil is more than balanced out by the human potential for virtue and heroism. This is easy to ridicule, but then at heart, most people prefer a happy ending.

The Ninth Reason

Ayn Rand was no philosopher. In the context of 20th century academic philosophy this redounds greatly to her credit. While her unequivocally negative portrayal of post-Kantian philosophy seems sketchy and refutable, her gut reaction (or as she would say “sense of life” judgement) on modern thought and academic practice has been thoroughly justified. Today anyone who isn’t a member of the “guild” recognizes that academia has degenerated into an oppressive aristocracy in league with all the other elite sectors of society. Granted there is always a “saving remnant”…and in the case of academia some isolated researchers, and even whole institutions, may still be looking for truth, not conformity to politicized standards. This much everyone knows, and the causes are usually depicted as sociological, i.e., the incorporation of educational institutions into a vast conspiracy of irresistible power. Rand would have disagreed. She believed that the ultimate causes of corruption were intellectual, not conspiratorial. While this may or may not be the case, the advantages of Rand’s viewpoint is that it allows one to map out the points in intellectual history where false cognitive moves were made. Richard Weaver put the idea more succinctly when he said “ideas have consequences.” Weaver’s bogyman was Occam, while Rand’s was Kant, and there are probably numerous other villains waiting in the wings. Such disagreements aside, the intellectualist theory of history preserves the classical understanding of human beings as definitionally spiritual beings. For this reason if for no other Rand is disqualified for consideration as a modern, let alone post-modern, philosopher, in so far as all academically respectable schools, including but by no means limited to those influenced by neo-Marxism and neo-Darwinism, are implicitly anti-intellectual in the technical sense described above.

The Tenth Reason

Ayn Rand believed in karma. Indeed, she could have made a bigger success of herself among the trendy influencers of the 1960’s if she had marketed herself as a guru who taught a strict doctrine of karma. Mercifully, she did no such thing, but in refraining to do so, she forfeited instant intelligibility for terminological autonomy. By the middle of the 20th century the European philosophical tradition had become so corrupt that many people, young and old, could only discover a moral law of cause-and-effect by studying the religions of India. Of course the Western tradition had once embraced the universal doctrine that good actions must (ultimately) result in good effects, and conversely bad could only result in bad. Such notions were vaguely recalled in surviving idioms like “as you sow so shall you reap,” and “measure for measure” but a pervading materialism had subsequently spread the notion that only efficient causes, such as the interaction between billiard balls, were valid. Accordingly, the moral consequences of human acts were random and devoid of meaning, at least at the level of individuals. Hence the results of human actions were at best unfair, or worse, according to the stylish authors of the existentialist schools, they were absurd. Against this Rand articulated an old-fashioned doctrine of just deserts, and she did this without resorting to the face saving doctrines of the traditional schools such as reincarnation, paradise, purgatory and all the other extensions of human effects into unseen regions of the cosmos. It was basically the notion of virtue being its own reward, fortified with some fugitive, and largely unattributed, borrowings from depth psychology about the damages inflicted by guilt. Whether such a system of ethics, enforced by something which Rand simply called “reality” and balancing out according to purely immanent principles, is really adequate or believable, remains a good question. Yet it is a notable recursion to the doctrine of natural justice and individual moral responsibility, things which seem good in their own right.

The Eleventh Reason

Ayn Rand was better as a person than a scholar. At her best, i.e., when she was not challenged by tragedies, including those of her own making, she seems to have exhibited a buoyant love of life, people, and even animals. Some might accuse her of slander and misrepresentation of her ideological adversaries, however the record of history has born out the validity of her testimony against collectivist totalitarianism. Rather, her reliance on “sense-of-life” judgements (which she would have scorned to call “intuition”) tended to blind her in the opposite direction, giving more credit than was due to her select pantheon of heroes. Thus the American founders (creatures of the eclectic 18th century) she depicted as deep Aristotelian philosophers, while Victor Hugo, being a fellow romantic, was of course greater than Shakespeare. More important was her view of Nietzsche whom she seems to have viewed, not as a grim nihilist who drove himself mad, but as a romantic poet who promoted an ethic of self-esteem. These private misrepresentations in Rand’s mind in turn lead to the public misrepresentation of Rand as a kind of monster, facilitated by her blunt rhetoric and heavy Russian accent in histrionic interviews before American audiences. In actuality, the various elements of her knowledge, whether well-grounded or fanciful, combined into an original mozaic, a gestalt which some viewed as heroic and others as horrible. Principally however, it was the “sense-of-life” which was producing the mozaic, and the “sense-of-life” was fundamentally optimistic and well intended.

The Twelfth Reason

Ayn Rand was opposed to tribalism. Naturally, like everyone, she had her own ethnic background. After all, she was a Russian emigrant (accent and all!) from a Jewish family. Unsurprisingly, the people she associated with were frequently from the same or similar backgrounds. Yet she would certainly have plenty of sharp observations on today’s ubiquitous “identity politics.” As to her own identity, for Ayn Rand it was simply “American.” Although a severe critic of governmental and political pretensions, she assumed the existence of a nation state (based on territory, not blood) as an essential presupposition of political life. Factions, notably those based on “identities”(ethnic, racial, sexual, religious) were inimical both to national cohesion and to the autonomy of the individuals subsumed within the “identities.” However at a deeper level of analysis, she opposed “tribalism” in the sense of arbitrary conformity to collective opinions, vis-a-vis “reason” as an abstract and even-handed understanding of reality, an understanding independent of the subjectivity and identity of the thinker. For Rand there was no adjudication of the claims or opinions of the “tribes” short of war. Subsequent history has done nothing to cast doubt on her conclusion.

The Thirteenth Reason

Ayn Rand is dead. This is liberating. I refer not to Ayn’s liberation from this mortal coil, but to “we the living’s” liberation from any involvement with sectarian movements continuing to claim a Randian legacy. Her significant works are now all publicly available. It is a table spread and ready for critical digestion. It can be taken up, examined, and if found lacking discarded. There is no need for an orthodoxy, just read and think. Rand, and most members of her immediate circle, are now figures of intellectual history. The time is past when people needed to divide up into little incestuous, gossipy groups, arguing that “Ayn said…” or “Nathaniel said…” the time of sects and sub-sects. For a while that sort of thing did indeed turn Rand into a monster of the public imagination. Now we have real monsters to cope with, and just possibly Rand’s works will provide a tonic, a stimulus for that struggle, especially for young people just entering the fray.

Those are the reasons, take them or leave them. However it is hard to imagine a world reborn in freedom not honoring Ayn Rand, of all people, with a place in its literary cannon.

Posted in Ayn Rand, conservatism, Conspriacy Theory, Culture & Politics, Fiction, History, Libertarianism, Novels, Paleoconservativism, Philosophy, Politics, Traditionalism | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

Libertarianism and its cultured despisers

Posted by nouspraktikon on February 18, 2023

A review of D.C. Schindler, Freedom from Reality The diabolical character of modern liberty University of Notre Dame Press, Notre Dame, 2017

A thoughtful philosopher with a worthy name has written an important book, perhaps one destined to become a classic of its type. That the type is narrowly sectarian, and that the book is likely to harm that hybrid thing Americans call “conservatism” is rather a shame. It is a learned work full of brilliant insights, the premise of which, however cogent and well developed, borders on the derogatory. This is evident even from the title. Schindler might have used “the diabolical nature of modern liberalism,” but if so he would have been pulling his punches. Schindler’s liberalism is, sadly, the genuine classical liberalism, not the spurious “liberalism” of media outlets attempting to navigate a progressive agenda through an ideological fog. Schindler’s demons aren’t Jacobins, they’re Whigs, and to nail down his point unequivocally, he structures his tome around a criticism of John Locke.

Locke, as demon-in-chief, becomes for Schindler the symbol for modernity’s unraveling civilization. Or rather, Locke, instead of being symbolic, is “diabolic” according to Schindler’s peculiar terms-of-art. Basing himself on etymologies drawn from classical philosophy, for Schindler “symbolic” means synthesis, while its antithesis “diabolic” connotes an anti-synthetic process. One is hard pressed whether to censure Schindler for slander or to admire the kind of rhetorical slam dunk which is seldom seen outside the poisonous pens of left-wing journalism. What makes his Anti-Locke (to bowlderize the title) cogent is its teleology. Yes, civilization is in a process of increasing fragmentation, seemingly heading towards an end-state of total dissolution. You don’t have to be a “conservative” to see that. The only item of contention regards what idea or force is the main solvent.

While Schindler’s culprit is liberalism, there are plenty of other factors which, arguably having played a positive role in the rise of civilization are now seen as its nemesis. Technology, the managerial state, and the rage for equality are among the leading contenders. Granted, these are sociological categories rather than ontological concepts, and Schindler, straining to be a pure theorist, sketches out his symbolic/diabolic with bare reference to history, or rather only such systematized detail as one might encounter in Hegel’s Philosophical Encyclopaedia. Indeed, Schindler gives one the impression of a Hegel who has been, not simply stood on his head (or feet, as per Marx) but turned inside out in order to generate a deconstructive dialectic.

Although this amounts to something of a tour-de-force, Schindler is hardly the first to suggest that (Western) civilization has been endangered by faulty ontological and epistemological presuppositions. The increasing alienation between the psychological subject and the objective cosmos was a persistent theme throughout 20th century. Perhaps the best example being Husserl and the classical (not contemporary) phenomenologists, although there have been many others as well. What makes Schindler unusual (at least among non-leftists) is the vehemence with which he assigns exclusive blame to “liberalism.” There may be some conservatives who will welcome this turn of thought, but it is fraught with danger, since there is in fact no such thing as a pure conservativism, at least in today’s world, and whatever “reality” it consists of is dependent on a synthesis of classical liberal and traditionalist persuasions. By threatening to undo this synthesis, Schindler seems to be, according to his own nomenclature, playing the role of the devil.

The plausibility of Schindler’s anti-liberalism rests on two pillars. The first is the vulnerability of Locke, and the second is the very ambiguity of liberalism itself. It should be conceded from the outset that Locke is an embarrassment. F. Hayek notes in The Constitution of Liberty, that the choice of Locke as eponymous ancestor of all Whig ideology was rather fortuitous, closer historical examination revealing the importance of other thinkers who are now considered secondary. Prolix, contradictory, and hypocritical, such qualities explain why Locke scholarship has become a contentious, and highly productive industry among American academics. If for no other reason, Schindler’s Anti-Locke is worth the read for giving one a birds-eye, and relatively painless overview of these Liliputian heroics.

Perhaps we (we being libertarians) are stuck with Locke as a “symbol” in Schindler’s laudatory sense, like a gestalt figure where you must either see John Locke or Karl Marx, even though both images are legends, not accurate historical depictions. However behind the symbol is the Whig movement itself, or what Hayek called “Old Liberalism.” Whatever its inconsistancies and failings, this movement represented a serious challenge to despotism, and a commitment to the rule of law. Such a broad historical phenomenon cannot simply be disposed of a priori as “demonic” by a clever dialectic, however trenchant and precise.

Now it is certainly true that a vast armada of ideas and movements have sailed under the ensign of liberalism, some tacking to the left and some to the right, and many continuing on in a direction contrary to that of the main fleet. There is classical liberalism, neo-liberalism, ordo-liberalism, cutural and economic liberalism. Schindler shies away from these significant differences, as well he might, since for him liberalism plays the role of the devil, just as for Hegel the Absolute plays the role of God. Hence it must all be of one piece. None the less, one gets the overall impression that for Schindler the worst liberalism is true liberalism, i.e., classical liberalism. There might be a certain logic to this, in that the enemy of the Good is the second-best, but Schindler’s demonizing rhetoric makes it hard to see any good at all in liberalism.

It is hard to respond to Schindler because, in a sense, the response has already been made by “liberalism” itself, in the form of the radical 20th century libertarian movement, a movement who’s most consistent 21st century advocates are called “paleo-libertarians.” Libertarianism was more than just a change in nomenclature from “liberalism” or even the “Old Liberals” of Hayek. It was an ideological purification of liberalism’s inconsistencies and embarrassments. Ironically, it took a page from Schindler’s book, a book that wouldn’t be written for another half-century, going behind John Locke’s back to that great fountain of science itself, Aristotle.

It would be interesting to show how the efforts of the great libertarians of the mid-20th century, whatever their mutual contentions (think Rand vs. Rothbard!), took the form of a Back-to-Aristotle movent, but this wouldn’t help much as a refutation of Schindler’s demonization of all things liberal, except to add that dash of irony. What is salient is the direction that the purification of liberalism took. The task was to close the era of Lockean pragmatism and restore fundamental principles. Obviously, this was not just one, but a virtual infinity of tasks, but there was one salient endeavor which bears mention as a preemption of Schindler’s critique of liberalism, and that is the critical distinction between the psychology of choice and the logic of freedom.

It is the psychology of choice which in Locke’s day would have been known as “libertarianism” but this is in fact not what the authors of the mid-20th century movement that called itself “libertarian” were up to. Austrian economics, which served as the scientific basis for much of libertarian thought, was explicitly non-psychological. In the formulations of Ludwig von Mises, human action had to be conceived of as an autonomous phenomenon understood through logic, a domain he termed praxiology. This non-psychologism did not amount to an anti-psychologism, in so far as consciousness and the unconscious realms of the human mind could be interpreted by a separate study which he called thymology. This is far from, indeed antithetical, to the kind of empirically based theories of choice-from-consciousness which seem to characterize John Locke, at least from the perspective of Schildler’s criticism.

But what, one might object, about the most famous publicist of libertarianism (albeit she eschewed the term) Ayn Rand? What about “the virtue of selfishness” and all that? Would she not be a good example of Lockean liberalism in an advanced and particularly degenerate form? Whatever Rand’s problems, and there were many, no, she did not exemplify the deification of arbitrary choice. On the contrary, her instincts were those of a determinist. Much to the irritation of psychological “liberals” her heroes tended to be embodiments of teleological principles. Bad literature perhaps, but not psychological/volantarist constructs of a Lockean ilk. Indeed, Murry Rothbard is reported to have talked her out of explict (rather than tacit) determinism.

Then what about Rothbard himself? Again, as a student of Mises he was a praxeologist, hence he made a distinction between logic and psychology. Just as Rand eschewed “libertarianism” Rothbard, who embraced libertarianism, eschewed Randian “Objectivism.” Yet in an ontological and epistemological sense Rothbard was fully objective in his orientation, even while promoting subjective-value as the correct method for understanding economic exchange.

In summary, liberalism was purified of psychologism and voluntarism by the radical libertarians of the mid-20th century (Mises, Rothbard, Rand and many others). This part of Schindler’s anti-liberal criticism does not apply in any sense to this movement or its founders. Rather, the subjective, antinomian exagerations of post-Lockean liberalism are characteristic of those tendencies which shaded into progressivism. This is the world of “I can remake reality into my image” which is correctly opposed, not just by Schindler, but by all right thinking people. Emphatically, it was these very tendencies which were opposed by the radical libertarians.

On the other had, the legacy of Whig radicalism, which Schindler demonizes, was upheld and continued by the 20th century libertarians, and by their disciples among today’s “paleo-libertarians.” If Schindler were to limit his criticism to an ethical (or more likely theological) refutation of arbitrary psychological choice, he would be in accord with many disciples of liberty. However when he attacks the core tradition (a bit of irony that…tradition!) which stood opposed to tyranny for centuries, one cannot simply concur on the basis of an elegant and ingenious dialectic. On the contrary there is danger in splitting the upholders of classical liberalism (now purified of “left-liberalism”) from the defenders of moral traditions. After all, what was Schindler’s precise etymology of “the diabolical” amount to if not just that…splitting!

Posted in Ayn Rand, Culture & Politics, Economics, Law, Ontology, Paleoconservativism, Philosophy, Politics, Theology, Traditionalism, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

A word to the wise: Materialism as the clear cause of Totalitarianism, demonstrated (at least) 2400 years ago?

Posted by nouspraktikon on October 7, 2022

Choose your world, choose your regime

Is the universe comprised of souls or composed of matter? If you consider that alternative an oversimplification, understand that it is only ventured in the hope of sparking some moral clarity. Perhaps you have no metaphysical inclinations, and are begging off from even having an opinion on the issue. That doesn’t matter and I’m not in the business of offering any definitive answers, although I have to admit, that its hard for me not to make a few passes in the direction of modern science, since in a cosmos now recognized as teaming with non-local forces, relativity, quantum mechanics, and other forms of weirdness, the philosophy I favor looks increasingly apt. But enough of that! Be a materialist if you want, but realize that your chosen ideology has consequences, grave consequences. Arguably, Materialism is the root of nihilism, but most patently, it is the route to tyranny.

This isn’t rocket science! I know materialists like to talk about something called “rocket science” as the acme of intellect, and we all have to respect that. No, you can be as dumb as dirt and understand this. It is a simple matter of A causes B, where A is materialism and B is tyranny. On the other hand, if you are wearing ideological blinders, you can happily ignore it. The choice is yours. But to illuminate that choice, it might help to have a genius point out the exact nexus between A and B by which the former causes the latter. Don’t worry, the proof has already been available for twenty-four centuries.

Plato’s choice

People raised on modern philosophy, tend to wince whenever Plato is mentioned as a political thinker. My intention here is not to make Plato out to be some sort of crypto-libertarian, but to show that his metaphysical-political argument in the Laws can be appropriated in the defense of liberty against modern totalitarianism, including, though not limited to, any and all contemporary Marxisms, which, however “Neo-“, or “Cultural” they may appear on the surface are grounded in the same materialist presuppositions as Classical Marxism. Granted, Plato is an odd friend of liberty. He was perhaps what we would call an authoritarian conservative today. Moreover, in his most famous dialogue Republic it seems that he even dabbels with the idea of a totalitarian utopia. Yet I sincerely doubt, whatever Karl Popper and others have opined on the subject, that Republic has been a major inspiration for latter day experiments in tyranny. The dialogue’s plot seems more like an elaborate thought-experiment than a serious manifesto. However for present purposes, these Platonic embarrassments are moot, including even the more realistic, but still very authoritarian, legislation in the Laws itself.

Before bashing Plato, one might consider from what direction comes today’s clear and present danger to human freedom and, indeed, to human survival. Is it, perhaps, from “religious fundamentalism” or perchance from crazed idealist sects, fanatically devoted to the likes of Plato, Spinoza, Leibnitz, or Malbrache? Even to the extent that they exist, I doubt that these are major threats. Rather it is a new form of intolerance, a kind of secularist “fundamentalism” which now haunts the entire world. And how did this come about? Through an unfortunate series of historical accidents? Through cunning plots and deceptions? Or has it been simply the concrete manifestation of an inevitable set of metaphysical presuppositions, which are finally bearing their bitterest fruits. If we are able to leave off Plato bashing, and disentangle the core metaphysical/normative nexus in the Laws from its half-baked cosmology and over-baked legislation, we may find ourselves in possession of an invaluable key for unlocking the mysteries of today’s moral crisis.

Chance, Art, and Nature

Though there are excellent translations available today, the core argument in the Laws for the metaphysical/moral nexus requires more than just a rendering into modern languages, it demands an imaginative clarification and restatement, to which I will now try my hand. On top of the usual distracting chit-chat of the interlocutors, this core argument is also obscured (perhaps deliberately) by heavy handed legislative suggestions, as well as disquisitions concerning the nature of the soul and rationality. These latter assume premises, such as that rotation in place is a more “rational movement” than locomotion, which are unlikely to persuade modern readers. Again, none of this really matters, because the core argument is only sketched out obliquely within the entire narrative section which ostensibly deals with “religion” and it doesn’t depend on any one or other of the assertions regarding particular metaphysical objects, e.g., “the soul.” That said, at least we are able to get some traction on the primary terms of the argument in the section following (889ff.) where the “Athenian” is illustrating the opinions of “the atheists” i.e., of materialists. (note)

“The facts show–so they claim–that the greatest and finest things in the world are the products of nature and chance, the creations of art being comparatively trivial. The works of nature, they say, are grand and primary, and constitute a ready-made source for all the minor works constructed and fashioned by art…They maintain that fire, water, earth, and air owe their existence to nature and chance, and in no case to art, and it is by means of these entirely inanimate substances, that the secondary physical substances– earth, sun, moon, and stars–have been produced. These substances moved at random, each impelled by its own inherent properties…and the consequent establishment of the four seasons led to the appearance of all plants and living creatures. Art, the brain-child of these living beings, appeared latter, the mortal child of mortal beings. But…there are in fact some techniques…that cooperate with nature, like farming, and medicine, and physical training…”

Thus far the Athenian has given an easily recognizable (both then and now) portrait of the materialist world-view. The world is the result of random interactions of substances, which accounts for the vast majority of the facts of the universe. However at some point living beings discover they can produce intentional works, which are different from the given works of nature. The appearance of “art” doesn’t require any revision of the overall materialist world-view, and the Athenian goes out of his way to indicate that the materialists (at least of Plato’s time) saw the human world as a small and superficial island in the vast ocean of matter and chance. Obviously this is not a particularly attractive world-view from the point of view of Plato, or other (religious, idealistic etc.) thinkers. None the less, it might be considered a virtuous point of view, if realism and tough-mindedness were the only points in consideration. However there is a further factor to be taken into account, the political dimension, which, after all, is the ostensible theme of the Laws. Hence the Athenian continues,

“This school of thought [materialism] maintains that government, in particular, has little to do with nature, and is largely a matter of art; similarly legislation is never a natural process but is based on technique, and its enactments are quite artificial.”

Immediately we can see a number of things. First of all, here we can find an obvious motive for adopting the otherwise uncongenial world-view of materialism, the promise of freedom. It may be a false promise of an illusory “freedom” which, on the contrary, will guide its advocates down a road to political subjection. Many, especially in modern times, will embark on this road to serfdom, ignoring the warning contained in the Laws. For example, in the 19th century Nietzsche will prefer Thucydides to Plato, an in the 20th century so will certain followers of Leo Strauss, not all of them, and perhaps not Strauss himself, but at any rate those who have had an influence on American public policy.

Plato’s argument against materialism (as opposed to the positive arguments concerning “rationality” etc.) is an argument from consequences as contained in 889ff of Laws. This argument revolves around three critical terms, chance, art, and nature. Chance (or chaos) and art (moderns prefer the term “culture”) are antithetical, and according to which of them is primary “nature” will take on either one or the other of two opposing meanings. These two meanings are not explicitly defined in the Laws, but from the gist of the argument can be clearly understood. The following sequences illustrate the contrasting structure of materialism on the one hand, and the opposing view, for which there is no single name, but which might be called “spiritual” or perhaps (since we are speaking of Plato here) “ensouled” or more simply just the “pious” world-view.

Materialism: chance–> nature (a)–> art(y) “Pious” world-view: art(x)–> nature(b) –> art(y)

Obviously, art (y) refers to human art in both cases, while art (x) refers to the action of a creator, in the case of Plato the demiurgos, or divine artisan. More interesting is the difference between the opposed concepts of nature. Nature (a) is a chaos, produced by chance, while nature (b) is an order, or a cosmos. Plato, through his interlocutors, is plugging for the “pious” view, against the popular materialism of his time, and adduces several arguments on its behalf. These kinds of arguments have continued down through history, and in its present form is generally referred to as the “argument for (or against) intelligent design.” As promised, I won’t delve into that argument here. Rather, we will remain focused on the ethical, and especially political consequences of accepting one or the other of these world-views.

Politics as Imitation vs. Politics as Creation

Granted, there are few libertarian delights to be found in the works of Plato. One especially erudite libertarian thinker has even advanced the contrary thesis that the pedigree of Western liberty should be traced back through Piere Gassendi (17th century) to ancient materialism. Yet whatever one thinks of Plato as a legislator or his pet projects involving “philosopher-kings” the core argument at the end of the Laws regarding the nexus between world-views and politics stands alone. Not only do I think it is valid, but would seem that it has assumed increasing relevance with the acceleration of modernity.

If we take the alternative versions of nature sketched above, and put them into graphic (or as per Plato “mythic”) form, we get the following. In the first world view we have a vast ocean of chaos, which after aeons of chance eventually manifests a small island of human rationality and consciousness which Plato calls “art.” In the second world view the cosmos is ordered and rational from its origin, and the only remaining task of human societies to reduce the disharmony and chaos of human nature by imitating the archetypes provided by a rational creation.

From Plato’s perspective, the worst possible outcome would be that the wanton drives of human passion would destroy society, leading to a state of anarchy. Needless to say, the anarchy of Plato’s imagination was no “anarchist utopia” where human nature is so perfected that laws are superfluous, but rather a sub-social war of all against all. Whether his fears were justified, and of course they were a product of his own historical experience, the modern imagination has generally tended to evaluate the liberties of Periclean Athens more highly than the puritanical legislation of the Republic, or even the milder Laws.

Unfortunately, Plato may have been more accurate as a prophet of modernity than as a critic of ancient society. The “worst case scenario” of today far exceeds the fears of Plato for the democratic Greek cities, because the modest “art” of Plato has developed into the Cyclops-like demigods which we call modern “science” and “technology.” Therefore we must extend the argument of the Laws to show how dangerous the metaphysics/politics nexus has become. In terms of the materialist world view, we find that the island of human rationality has expanded to continental size, and now it can be imagined that it will replace the ocean of pre-human chaos completely. In essence, although it is seldom stated so boldly, it is held that the task of the human species is to create a new universe.

The “pious” of the world object that this is madness, and that there is no need to recreate a world into which we were born and to which we owe our being. Or in the poetic words attributed to a certain ancient king, “It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves.” If the materialist were candid, which they are not, their rebuttal would be a restatement of their basic paradigm as outlined by Plato in the Laws. They would say “We are growing human freedom at the expense of the outer world of chaos. We are making the island of humanity larger in the void of space, or if you prefer a different metaphor, we are enlarging the clearing of rational consciousness by pushing back its perimeter against the forest of chaos.”

In fact, they ceased to make any such arguments long ago. If they had continued to do so, it would have exposed their true motives, and it would have made them vulnerable to the central argument against materialism which appears in Plato. Instead they have tried to out-pious the genuinely pious with misdirection and moral censure. Now total social and technological control must be maintained “to protect Mother Nature.” The piety seems to be for exoteric consumption, and the control for insiders.

Which, ironically, was always the big objection to Plato, elitism. However, with regard to the metaphysics/politics nexus he seems to have got it right. Materialism and tyranny go hand in hand, but more so in our age than in his. The authoritarianism of Plato was intended to limit his model human society within the bounds of nature, a nature conceived as a created order. In any case, the key word here is limit. Even the supposed adversary of Plato’s interlocutor “the Athenian” vaguely described as “the young atheist” was a creature of limited imagination. He might have wished to debauch nature (conceived as chaos) but he had not the means of actually replacing nature with a novel world of his own creation. Keep in mind that Plato lived in a world which was not only prior to the industrial revolution, but even prior to Archimedes.

In contrast, we live in a world were all limits have been removed to the possibilities of reality-creation. I am not speaking here of magic. The materialist does not seek to pull reality out of thin air. She or he does not seek to replace the Creator God of the Abrahamic faiths. Materialists don’t believe in such a God who creates ex nihilo. Rather, they seek to perform the work of the Platonic demiurgos, subjecting the matter of a preexisting chaos to their own intelligence. Not that they believe in Plato’s divine workman either, who might have endowed them with a cosmos worthy of imitation. Rather they, as the first intelligent beings born into a world of chaos, conceive themselves as having a free hand in the creation, not even a of “new order”, but of the first cosmic order to merit the name. The free hand given to the world-planners by technological advances allows them to restructure reality without limit. There is certainly no ethical limit, because modern materialists, like Plato’s “young atheist” but with greater salience, are working on chaotic matter of no intrinsic value, apart from the form which has been imparted to it by the planners.

If the “chaos” which the planners intended to replace was limited to physical things it would be alarming enough to genuine conservationists and natural preservationists, keeping in mind that the rhetoric has been inverted as a form of misdirection to portray the reality-makers as allies of all things “natural.” However the primary “chaos” which the materialist seeks to replace are “mental” (a.k.a., spiritual) things such as the “archaic” foundations of human mores and institutions. These things, above all others, serve merely as the raw materials for the creation of a new reality dictated by the whims of the planners.

Venturing out on seas of lemonade

In conclusion, we can see that embedded in the ontology of materialism is the eschatology of totalitarianism, since, given sufficient technological advancement, it generates a logic of autonomous reality-creation by human planners, themselves necessarily limited to a small group of like-minded people possessed of a coherent plan. Everything hinges on a prejudice against the existing cosmos, which is devalued a chaotic. Without a cosmos or a cosmic Creator, there is no standard of judgement apart from arbitrary human will, and in practice, of whatever group attains sufficient hegemony to become the world-planners. As unlovely as Plato’s legislation seems in retrospect, we can understand how both its authority and rationale was limited by unchanging archetypes beyond the reach of human manipulation. On the other hand, even the “young atheist” of Plato’s consternation was merely a bad boy in contrast to modern totalitarianism, the essence of which is unlimited and continuous expansion of authority in accordance with the dynamic of reality-creation.

All of this could have been easily deduced, minus the Cyclops-like coefficient of modern technology, by Plato’s 2400 year old distinction between originary chaos and originary creation, with the materialist drawing the “correct”, so to speak, ethical conclusions from the first cosmogony. Granted to speak of “reality-creation” as the actual teleology of materialist elites seems rhetorically overblown, and more in the province of those who go in for magic, fantasy, and the more speculative genres of science fiction. It is hard to imagine serious people thinking in such terms without being mentally deranged. Yet the attitude is profoundly salient throughout the development of modernity, usually in unconscious, or at least tacit forms.

Occasionally the attitude has broken through the surface of private opinion and into public forums, sometimes in very odd, even charming forms. For example two centuries ago the utopian socialist Fourrier, thinking himself to be a prophet, pronounced that after the revolution of the future the seas would turn to lemonade. Whether he was altogether serious about this, or whether he was simply alluding to the power to reality-creation which would be granted to a future version of humanity I cannot say. Significantly, he doesn’t seem to have pondered the toxicity of a lemonade ocean, or that the rapid replacement of the salt water bodies by sugar water would bring life on Earth to a rapid end. Whatever the value of Fourrier’s prognostications, he does seem to have understood the principle motive for materialist elites, at least in their modern forms.


(note) translation of Plato’s The Laws courtesy of Trever J. Saunders (Penguin, 1970)

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Homage to Andalusia: The brightest Enlightenment

Posted by nouspraktikon on August 17, 2022

The Intellect’s finest hour in history

I take it as a self evident that, whatever objections Hegel, neo-Darwinians, or the self-styled apostles of “progress” might claim, the latest nanosecond on the historical clock is not necessarily the pinnacle of some historical summa bonum. This means that we are allowed to ask ourselves the “what was history’s greatest age?” without “Now!” posing as the only acceptable answer. In recent years the self-evidence of this premise has acquired greater credibility, but I would still not disallow “now” as one valid opinion. For the historically minded, there are a multitude of plausible and implausible answers, plausible as Periclean Athens and the Buddhist empire of Asoka, implausible as Atlantis, Camelot, or the Kingdom of Prester John.

At the risk of seeming implausible, I would nominate Muslim Spain (al-Andalus) at least for some of its history, as the brightest moment in the history of the human intellect. Needless to say, it was not an era lacking in bigotry or oppression, and I am not defending it on all counts. However it may have been the best time in history to be an intellectual, at least a Muslim or a Jewish intellectual. Christians got into the act later, mostly as translators (into Latin) and sub-commentators on the overflow of rich scholarship written in, or at least passed down through, Arabic.

Real unity, and real diversity

“Unity through diversity” has become so hackneyed and political that the slogan should be banned from polite company. The intellectuals of al-Andelus would have understood that civil society was something to be suffered and eulogized with varying degrees of sincerity. Yet within the world of the philosophers a creative tension between unity and diversity reigned in the kingdom of the mind. Like a twisting double helix, the two major streams of neo-Platonic and neo-Aristotelian tradition converged and diverged in the writings of the old Andelusians. There were no universities, which was just as well. Livelyhood was based on patronage, clerical posts within religious communities, or “day jobs.” I’m not saying it was easy, but it meant that the tensions between ideology and original thought were obvious rather than subliminal. Hence there were no professors, but there were professions, i.e., poets, doctors, astro-logers and/or -nomers, (al-) chemists, lawyers and preachers, just to name a few. While above and behind this plurality of gainful activities were, not departments of specialized sciences, but the twisting helix of knowledge inherited ultimately from the bivalenced Greek sources (Platonic-mystical/Aristotelian-rational), always struggling for unification, but never completely unified.

Nothing like it before or afterwards

If I am right, that for a happy few, the al-Andalus epoch was an island of rationality in the turbulent river of human ideology, I must contrast it with whatever came before and what came afterwards, at least in terms of the narrative of the West. In contrast to the past, it was the first time in history when the gates of philosophy were safely guarded by the gates of law. I don’t mean that the philosophers were protected from persecution by the law, which of course they weren’t, as could be instantiated by many a melancholy tale. Rather that the world was protected from the philosophers.

This seems a strange thing to say, but I rely of the work of Leo Strauss and his school in this regard. Whatever the merits and demerits of that school’s understanding of the post-Machiavellian world, they uncovered the secret of Andalusian philosophy, which constituted a solution to the conflict between Socrates and Athens, i.e., between the corrosive impact of dialectical thought and the stability of social norms. One is free to object to this thesis. However I think that the case for it is better today than it was when it was originally brought forward by Strauss in 1935. Or are we to think that the contemporary dissolution of Western societies into relativity and chaos is the result of some spiritual malady which has nothing to do with with teleology of dialectical thought?

What is unique to the Andalusian epoch is that the mystics and philosophers did not think that it was beneath their dignity to be jurisprudents, even though they could not exercise their philosophical creativity in that office, since there was only One creator (of law and all other things). In this respect they were different from Socrates, who was compelled by his daemon to probe into all matters, sacred or profane, in or outside the Areopagian legislature. Of course, even a Socrates was the soul of restraint in comparison to modern “law-makers” and the ranks of policy thinkers who guide their hands.

Before the onslaught of subjectivity and the irrational

Not only were the philosophers of old Andalusia pre-professional, (a good thing) they were also pre-psychological, which was an even better thing. Of course, I am painting with a very broad brush here, and I am certainly not implying that the ancients “didn’t have a subconscious” although that might be more reasonable than the Jayens hypothesis claiming the subconscious was the only mind they had. Certainly, the Andalusians had nightmares, but they had not yet come to the point of turning their nightmares into philosophy. In the world of the sages of al-Andalus, there was a relatively clean interface between metaphysics and physics, where logic (“the logos” if you will) operated directly on the substance of its investigation, without mediation. This didn’t mean that they were unaware of the problem of subjectivity, just that they were inclined to see it as more of an accident than an essence. This is true of even the more “pneumatic” schools, like ibn Gabirol’s hylomorphic philosophy, not to mention the neo-Aristotelians. The closest thing to a school which made psychology the basis of its world view might be the astrology of ibn Ezra, with its grotesque descriptions of zodiacal influences. Yet even ibn Ezra frames his work as an excursion into a technical science, a kind of psychiatry of astral accidents, not to be taken up as phenomenology of human consciousness in general. He begins his work with a scriptural quotation “The beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord.” (Ps. 111) as a kind of disclaimer against excessive entanglement with the lesser gods of the astral plane, or as we would say, the subconscious.

Hence the world view of the Andalusians might be likened to a person standing on terrra firma (the physical world) gazing up into a clear sky (i.e., metaphysics). In contrast the modern thinker is like a person standing on the bed of a ocean, looking up through the water (subjective mind) at the surface where, hopefully, an objective world commences. For the post-modern thinker there may not even be a surface at all, but an ocean of subjectivity extending to infinity.

After the deluge

Rene Descartes gets a bad press for initiating the epistemic ego, which is often confused with the “bourgeois” individual in the West, which again, may or may not be a good thing. What I consider to be an unqualified bad thing is the breach which opened up between the thinker and the cosmic order. This was rethought, but in some ways aggravated by Kant and his successors. Yet these johnny-come-latelys in the subjectivity game, were standing on the shoulders of the early medieval Scholastics who dismissed the essence of the Andalusian world-view, while adopting much of the latter’s insights and nomenclature. In a sense, the Scholastic claim to be “better Aristotelians” than the Andalusians was correct, for the Christian monks were more thorough in their application of what Aristotle called “turning towards phantasms” i.e., the use of the imagination in the human mind to build up ideas. Technically, this may even be a necessary aspect of concept-formation, but its emphasis opened up a Pandora’s box which would some day lead to psychology and sociology reigning jointly as “queen of the sciences”…an outcome which certainly would have been rued by the Scholastics themselves.

Granted that some anti-psychological thinkers might be too scrupulous in the other direction. For example Maimonides sometimes talks as if the imagination is a kind of vice, and that the worst noetic sin would be to mix up poetry and logic. Yet the modern social world, awash in imagery of a highly questionable, if not ruinous nature, testifies to the perspicacious, indeed prophetic, profundity of the Andalusian sages. It may be that, if indeed they were not as good Aristotelians as their monkish rivals to the north, perhaps they were, after all, better philosophers.

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I.M. Bochenski on Max Scheler’s breakthrough in values and ethics 

Posted by nouspraktikon on July 6, 2022

Compounding the difficulty of appreciating Scheler, is that he wrote voluminously, in German, and employed a highly technical vocabulary.  Now that we have good translations by M. Frings and others this difficulty is partially solved.  None the less, Scheler’s ideas require synoptic exegesis.  One such helpful synopsis is provided by I. M. Bochenski, who was respected as a logician, as well as a writer on the history of European philosophy and political movements.  Written in the mid-20th century Bochenski’s “A Note on the Author” which appears as an appendix to the English translation of Scheler’s Von Ewigen im Menschen (tr. Bernard Noble) is even more relevant today, since the damaging ideologies which Scheler criticized have continued to spread and intensify. 

Now, while the irrationalist trend associated with existentialism has continued to this day, just standing athwart the tracks of history and shouting “This is crazy!” seems to be of little avail.  One of the loudest and clearest shouters in this regard was the famous novelist and intellectual Ayn Rand, who’s purported rationalism has at least served as a counterweight to the prevailing social propaganda.  Interestingly enough, Rand’s thought bears some similarity to that of Scheler, although she was loath to credit any 20th century philosophers with influence, Scheler included.  Indeed, it may be that the similarities are no more than a mutual indebtedness to Aristotelian-style thinking.  On the other hand many of the differences are due to Rand being a novelist and journalist writing for an American readership while Scheler was a philosopher in the most technical sense of the word, working in Germany pre- and post-WWI..

Indeed, we could probably use the whole of Bocheski’s essay to organize and understand the voluminous and technical Scheler in a way similar to how scholastics once used ibn Rushid’s shorter commentaries on Aristotle to understand “the Philosopher.” No doubt Bochenski, who was a Catholic monk and expert on scholasticism, would have been pleased by the analogy.   However for present purposes let us just take one key passage showing the relevance of Scheler to the advanced state of nihilism and relativism in today’s global society.  This paragraph gives us a sympathetic and synoptic account of Scheler’s understanding of love as explained in his ethical writings.

“..[I]t was Scheler’s extremely radical theory of love which he first used to shake the complacency of nineteenth century thought.  In the first place love is not a sentiment because it is not a feeling at all; it neither presupposes a judgement nor is it an act of aspiration; it contains within itself no social element and can just as well be directed towards oneself as toward someone else.  There was a serious misunderstanding in regard to this at the root of all relativist nineteenth-century theories; they identified love with altruism, an absurd notion by which the other had to be loved as other; they made it into a love of humanity alone, love for something abstract, a fresh monstrosity; they identified it with the inclination to help or improve others, a feature which may certainly result from love, but which cannot account for its essence.  Scheler’s far reaching analysis proves that altruism and similar forms of sentimentality are based on resentment, upon hatred of the higher values and, in the last resort, of God. An attitude of envy towards those who are the bearers of higher values leads to egalitarian and humanitarian ideals and these are the fundamental denial of love”.

In light of the above summary anyone familiar with the works of both thinkers can see how the ethical theme of “love” in Scheler is congruent with Ayn Rand’s notions on the same, together with implications on related topics (altruism etc.).  Be that as it may, the two thinkers derive their ethical conclusions from quite different, indeed opposed, philosophical bases.  One might speak of a difference between objective emotions (Scheler) and objective reason (Rand).  Objective reason would seem to require less justification than objective emotion.  Oddly, the grounds for this are the mainstream rationalistic consensus created by the Kantian moment in Western history.  In contrast objective emotion seems like an oxymoron, and the required justification is only provided (successfully or not) by Scheler’s delicate parsing of all the questions taken up in his Formalism

It is interesting, whatever opinion one might have on the matter, to see how Scheler, though more politic in his treatment of Kant than the scathing Rand, in fact is more clearly opposed to Kant, both in methods and conclusions.

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Rethinking Girard and Gans in the light of secularist reductionism

Posted by nouspraktikon on June 27, 2022

A tale of two materialisms

Conventional wisdom would have it that Girard and Gans represent two iterations on the theme of society’s mimetic basis, one theistic and the other atheistic. Before launching into a criticism of this notion I ought to give a high commendation to Girardian mimetic theory (MT) and the generative anthropology (GA) of Eric Gans, both of which give superb explanations for the pandemic of envy and hatred which plague the undifferentiated state of society towards which (among other possible historical scenarios) the egalitarian imperative drives our (now post-) modern world.

In fact, here I’m not directing any specific criticism towards the internal mechanisms of either TM or GA as methodologies for understanding social coherence/conflict, even if such criticisms could be made. Rather it seems to me that there is a misunderstanding among what might be described as the “fan base” of these theories, at least with regard to TM. It seems to me that TM frequently sold under the assumption that it is kind of theology, para-theology, or supplement to theology. In fact it is none of these things, and I am sure that the late Rene Girard, if asked candidly, would have totally agreed. This is not to say that TM doesn’t have deep mythic resonances with Christian and other narratives, or that Girard was not sincere in his personal Catholicism. However MT was intended to be, and in fact found its niche, in the domain of secular sociology.

More than that, Girard’s MT, far from being ontologically agnostic, attempts to conform itself to the methodology of Darwinian evolutionism, which at least implies a commitment to ontological materialism. As LaPlace said to Napoleon, when asked where God was in his system of galaxies “I have no need of that hypothesis.” Likewise in Girard, “god” appears as sociological sign of sublimated sacrifice, but not as any category of transcendent substance. Such a god is apparently sufficient for Girard, for whom sociology and personal piety are ultimately distinct realms.

In contrast Eric Gans, author of the frankly atheistic offshoot from MT which he dubbed generative anthropology, broods deeply on the loss of the transcendent dimension after the (18th century European) Enlightenment. The paradox of GA is summarized by the conjunction of its slogan “The existence of Man (i.e., a distinct ontological level constituted by the human species) is contingent on the existence of God” and the methodolgical atheism which it (GA) inherits from post-structural French philosophy. Gans himself, in true 20th/21st century fashion, discovers his deus ex machina in the bare fact of human speech, and its capacity of forgoing mutual human annihilation through expressions of restraint and forbearance. Perhaps the uttering of a timely “No!” by some unknown Adam constitutes a persuasive theory as to the origin of human society, and in all fairness GA pertains mainly to the beginnings of humanity. However it is hard to see how language as a phenomenon can be made to do the work of a thing-in-itself, or that the edifying memory of society’s foundation (linguistic or otherwise) will hold back the floods of nihilism.

Substance and Covenant as requisites of Humanity

Both MT and GA try to negotiate around transcendental ontology in order to secure their position as respectable versions of secular social theory. Both are founded on purely immanent ontologies, which left to themselves are sure to default to materialism. MT is based on psychology, especially social psychology and the dynamics of groups, from which it is only a short journey to instincts and genetics. GA, being primarily based on language, bears a somewhat more “idealist” nuance. However language, for GA, is human, not divine, in origin and thus solidly immanent.

While it is hard to argue than a prejudice in favor of immanence is any more one-sided than a prejudice towards transcendence, it should be noted that neither MT nor GA, while edifying and insightful, provide much solace for the human future. Girard’s final work on Clauswitz and war sounded a grim warning about mimetic conflict escalation, while Eric Gans continues to brood over the plausibility of human self understanding providing a kind of placebo for the God which the Enlightenment absconded with. If I am critical of these two theorists, it is because they are among the noblest of those who have tried to salvage the human project on an immanent basis. Or to put it in scriptural idiom, the best among those who have “sought a salvation which doth not come from Zion.”

Now, if GA is correct in its assertion that “The existence of Man is contingent on the existence of God” we are faced with several tasks. First we must define the terms (Man, God) and then we must understand their relationship. Do we want order or chaos? That admittedly is an open and existential question, but I will proceed on the assumption that order is better than chaos. An ordered and stable thing may be called a “substance” while an ordered and stable relationship may be called a contract or a covenant. One could quibble about the nomenclature used here, but I mainly want to show that neither substance nor covenant provides for an adequate philosophical anthropology, not to mention a theology.

Both Girard and Gans are sadder and wiser versions of Jean Jaques Rousseau, famous for his writing on the “social contract.” Both of these theorists bring in a vast amount of literary, mythic, and ethnological material to reform Rousseau’s vision of human origins. For Girard this origin is sacrificial while for Gans it is socio-linguistic. In both cases there is a covenant among human beings. To be sure, in Girard’s version there is a distinction between the continuing members of the group and the sacrificed other who is then deified. However this sacrificed “god” none the less remains a member of the same species as the sacrificing community. The entire logic of mimesis would fail if the “god” were really of an alien species. In such a case there would be no possibility for envy, since the species-traits would be incommesurable, and the dynamic of MT operates primarily on the principle of envy. Girardian sociology doesn’t deal in metaphysics. More precisely, it doesn’t deal with the relationships between different substances, only with relations among individuals and groups of the same species.

Obviously the same holds true for the more explicitly secular GA. All the relations which GA tries to account for occur within a uniform (human) nature, without the introduction of non-human divinities or spirits. Indeed, the expulsion of the idea of a non-human dimension is a central theme of GA’s historiography, a historiography which might be characterized as rehashing the positivism of August Compte, seen from a vantage point subsequent to the “linguistic turn.” Again, the only difference between MT and GA in this regard is that the latter lacks the window-dressing of a Christian mythos to convey its message. Although MT and GA are both weighty with brilliant sociological “substance” and well worth the study, neither of them deals with the subject of substance in the ontological sense. Perhaps it is not too unkind to suppose they both assume a uniform substance, which might be called nature or even matter.

Gnostic and Christian substantialism

At the opposite end of the cognitive spectrum from the modern sociology of relations, would be those ancient systems of thought which, in their eagerness to escape from the travails of this world, disengaged completely from the study of social bonds and devoted themselves exclusively to the theory of substances. The pristine exemplars of such substance-theory sects are those movements which have been dubbed “the Gnostics” by modern historians. Parenthetically, I want to warn against confusing the historical gnostics with the much broader theory of gnosticism proposed by Eric Voegelin. Voegelin’s theory, like that of Gans and Girard, is excellent sociology. However what I am trying to show here is in some way the precise opposite of Voegelin’s project of showing similarities between the ancient gnostics and certain modern (nihilist) social theories. The ancient gnostics were uninterested in social theory, at least in so far as their thinking as leaders of sectarian movements was concerned. As far as ontology was concerned, the gnostics were exclusively preoccupied with their theories on substances. Unlike the Stoics they were not interested in human society, nor were they interested in the happiness of the individual within the context of nature, as were the Epicureans. In fact, they didn’t believe in a uniform nature, even a uniform human nature. They believed in a hierarchy of substances, with different entities populating the different levels of the hierarchy. This was all expressed in luxurious mythological language rather than with philosophical clarity. Unless one is interested in using, like Voegelin, these sectarians as a metaphor for certain contemporary movements, there would seem to be very little of modern relevance in the study of ancient gnosticism.

However, the surprising truth of the matter is that gnosticism had a major influence on Christianity, the religion which would go on to shape much of Western civilization. The ostensible roots of Christianity lie in Judaism, a unique teaching which proposes the capacity of intra-substantial contracting between divinity and humanity. However Christianity quickly became entangled with sundry gnostic ideas (just how quickly is a matter of scholarly debate) and as a result much of the deposit of faith which had been inherited from Judaism became embedded in notions from alternative traditions. In time, the concept of covenant, which was a key component of Jewish thought, became subordinated (or to use an old Hegelian expression “sublated”) to the notion of substance in the context of Christian theology. This can be seen from the parameters of discourse which prevailed within the early ecumenical councils. It can also be seen in the thought of Augustine of Hippo who, himself a kind of gnostic (Manichean) converted to Catholic Christianity and became the touchstone of orthodoxy for (at least Western) Christendom.

None of the above is particularly novel or controversial. However my single purpose here is to show the tendency of substance-theories and and contract-theories to fly apart, only to be combined with a difficulty akin to mixing oil and water. It is in the face of this difficulty that the project of framing a plausible philosophical anthropology needs to be considered. Is human nature a matter of having a common human essence? Or alternatively does humanity arise as a process of relatedness among individuals. Furthermore do social relations only obtain among human beings, or are we to consider social relations between humans and non-human beings. Penultimately, if we are so bold as to entertain social relations with a variety of beings, what are the possible ontological status of such entities? For at such levels we are faced with an abundant plurality, as with animals, spirits, extra-planetary intelligences, and artificial minds. Finally, beyond all plurality do we not confront an ultimate Other, or rather One beyond whom there is no other.

In light of this antinomy between substance-theories and contract theories, it might be proposed that the so called Enlightenment was a kind of course correction against a peculiar tendency in religion, which had regarded the sacred almost exclusively in terms of substance. Contracts and the stability of the human order was relegated to the pettifogging ministrations of minor clerks, however they might be ennobled through the scratching of their pens. Against this background Rousseau restored the concept of the contract as the sacred center of human nature. To be sure, the idea didn’t occur to him in a void, as there had already been a revival of covenant theory within offshoots of Reformed theology (Rousseau was from protestant Geneva) in turn inspired by Jewish sources. Yet by the time the tradition reached Jean Jaques, the skepticism of the enlightenment had wrought a sea-change in ontology, and the “social contract” had become an exclusively intra-human affair.

In time, mainstream Western society would neglect the possible ontology of different substances with a contempt similar to that with which the ancient Gnostics had treated the ontology of relations and agreements. After Rousseau, Kant threw separate others out of human consciousness and replaced them with ideas, with naturalism and positivism proceeding apace in a one-story universe. Conversely there was a great flourishing of sociology and social theory, although social scientists never quite managed to get the priestly ordination for them that Compt had planned. It is with wiser eyes that both Girard and Gans looked back at the human construction of human society. Equipped with deeper ideas concerning language, the individual and collective unconscious, and especially the mirroring quality of human behavior, the human sciences were revealed to them in both the major key of solidarity and the minor key of scapegoating and persecution.

While both Girard and Gans embrace a liberal humanism which is substantially superior (in this writer’s opinion) to the existential Marxism of Sartre, they can no more escape the consequences of a one-story universe than could Sartre, that “People are Hell.” To be sure, it is extremely difficult to argue people out of the idea that we live in an exclusively one-story universe, especially when one is dealing with human beings who are lacking in certain experiences of a spiritual nature. Yet even so, given the rather bleak trajectory of a universe populated exclusively by beings engaged in mimetic rivalry with their fellow species-members, it might behoove a human to go Pascal one better and make two wagers. First, that there is more than one story to the building, and further that there are communications, indeed promises, exchanged between their inhabitants.

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From Eternity to here: A brief note on the retreat from ontology and the rise of conventional norms

Posted by nouspraktikon on May 29, 2022

Before there was Post-modernism there was Modernism…and it was already too late

There is a general feeling among non-mainstream thinkers that the world has fallen victim to the wicked genius of certain philosophers, among whom Freidrich Nietzsche frequently gets top billing, but including many others among the thought leaders of the 19th and 20th centuries, and accelerating, both in awfulness and volume, into the 21st. While there is a certain obvious validity to this, it obscures the more basic point, which is that the Western intellectual tradition came up against a fundamental dilemma which eluded solution. That dilemma was the antinomy between the ontological and the epistemological modes of thought, and it was lack of a resolution to this problem which left the door open to all those notorious nihilist thinkers. This is hardly an original insight of mine, and if one studies the philosophical tradition closely you are likely discover that many greats of its cannon (Edmund Husserl comes to mind in this connection) struggled with the problem, albeit with limited success.

Now all of this may sound terribly abstract, but everything you see in media and read in the news, the multiple and accelerating crises, result (however ultimately, indirectly and at great remove) from the abandonment of an ancient form of thought which some modern philosophers have termed ontological. Ontological thinking grants, without question, the primacy of reality. However the dominant style of thinking today begins by doubting the existence, or at least the nature, of reality, and bringing it before the bar of human thought, reason, and feeling.

Our social reality has become the construct of epistemological thinking

One is tempted to shrug one’s shoulders, but here lies a key to understanding the justification for all of our institutions and our ways of life. In ancient times reality made human beings, but today human beings make (or at least attempt to make) reality. This empowerment of the human race, initially so attractive yet always threatening to turn into a nightmare, didn’t begin with the latest pronouncement of governments or international NGOs. It began in the quiet reflections of Western intellectuals during the 18th century “enlightenment” and even much earlier. Regardless of its origin, in substance was a shift to epistemological thinking.

The shift to epistemological thinking in the West (for here we are not speaking of traditional India or China or elsewhere, albeit today “West” is to some degree everywhere and everyone) lead to a kind of “metaphysical anxiety.” How so? Well, fundamentally, once the sphere of human knowledge replaces reality as the starting point of thinking, the thinker is no longer a grateful participant in a world of other beings. Instead the thinker becomes a pioneer pushing the back the darkness of the unconscious universe, dwelling in a clearing called “science.” Without the heroic efforts of the human thinker, the universe literally has no mind. Hence the anxiety of the classical “heroic” atheist, the disowned ancestor of the contemporary postmodern nihilist.

To be sure, metaphysical anxiety is only a major problem for metaphysicians, a small sub-set of humanity. However the subjectivist orientation to knowlege implies that human social institutions are also constructs of the human mind imposed on reality. Now, the nature and legitimacy of social institutions is of concern to everyone. Furthermore, it follows that, if knowledge is a human construct, then the constitution of human societies is a sort of poetry. Modern (subjectivist) thought informs us that human beings invent the laws of their societies. When the heroic virtues were more in style than today, the favored narrative was that great and wise elders invented the laws and imposed them on their communities. More recently, a less heroic and more collectivist theory has held sway. Social institutions are developed over long periods of time by incremental group experimentation. This is generally referred to as the theory of cultural evolution. Most recently, with the concentration of power and wealth in the hands of oligarchs, the heroic notion of conscious cultural revolution has made a comeback.

The people who call themselves conservatives tend to be those who are clinging to the model of gradual cultural evolution. With few exceptions both the conservatives and the progressives (or rather the oligarchs who mask their interests under the banner of progress) are agreed that human institutions are anthropogenic. If “culture” means human-made (anthropogenic) social forms, then conservatives want slow culture and progressives want fast culture. It seldom occurs to anyone that there is any alternative to anthropogenic social forms, or that human institutions originated out of a transcendental, supra-human root.

The Eternal Law and its cultured despisers

To lift a phrase from the deeply subjective Schelermacher, it is those who are “cultured” in the most profound sense who despise the idea of an eternal, objective, and universal law. Any such belief is dismissed out of the court of acceptable opinion as, at best eccentric if not dangerously fanatical. Indeed, the notion of an Eternal Law is easy to ridicule. The image which, under one guise or another, makes it claim on the imagination is that of Tablets suspended from Heaven, perhaps jade tablets engraved with unalterable letters. Such tablets can neither be amended not controverted, and the implication is that, if they ever existed, they would constitute an intolerable tyranny over the human mind.

The image symbolizes two weighty, but surmountable, objections to an Eternal Law, namely the existence of time and space. It is as if we are confronted with a block universe such as that posited by Parmenides. Now even Plato rejected the literal formula of Parmenides, but before we get to Plato and reflective thinking (note that I see no contradiction between reflection and objectivity) it might be better to make a detour around the philosophers, and look at the “vulgar” thinking of the human race, before it was affected by either Greek philosophy or Israel’s special contact with the Source.

It goes without saying that there was great diversity. Now the proponents of “culture” i.e., the anthropogenic theory, have made this their primary brief against the ubiquity of the Eternal Law. Now if we were faithful recorders of our local informants, in whatever century, sea or continent (excluding only modernity) we would never find a case (speaking in historical translation of course) such as “Ah yes, that man Ludwig Feurbach! That is exactly our theory too, since our gods are nothing but bad dreams brought on by indigestion, and as for our deepest moral principles, we devised them out of the cunning of our own intellects.” They would be, rather, what we call “naive.” We need not be naive ourselves, but at least we ought to make the data of consciousness our primary source for investigation of comparative world views. If we allow ourselves to do so, we find wide areas of agreement on fundamentals of right and wrong throughout history and across the globe. We find evidence, however incomplete and fragmented, of an Eternal Law.

What we do not find is uniformity. Indeed, why should we have expected uniformity in the first place? For the proponent of anthropogenic institutions, this is always intended to provoke a surprise. We, the lay public, are supposed to be amazed at the diversity of indigenous human customs, and devoid of any possible explanation for this remarkable fact. To rescue us from this plight the proponents of “culture” offer a spectrum of theories within the respectable bounds of immanent anthropogenic thought. The more spiritual thinkers (according to the humanist sense of “spiritual”) envision tribes of poets spreading across the planet, each inventing a new song. The more materialist thinkers see tribes of heroes, each wrestling like Hercules, with a different climate and environment and forging new technologies, the mental aspect of which can be designated, in shorthand style, as “culture.” These are vastly entertaining narratives, the plausibility of which have placed them among the officially sanctioned ideologies of modernity.

However there are severe problems confronting these ideologies, and the modernist world-view in general. The most severe of all involve our present situation, in which modernity has come to the end of its tether. However at the moment I want to concentrate on problems concerning the origination of human institutions. Note that all the anthropogenic theories bracket out any consideration of the supernatural, ostensibly invoking some sort of “Occam razor” notion of explanatory elegance, but as most people tacitly recognize, in fact projecting elements of the modernist political-theological program back into the historical and ethnological records.

The first thing to be recognized is that the anthropogenic claim to a monopoly on explaining human diversity is simply false. The true explanation is obvious and amply seconded by all accounts in the historical and ethnographic records of the human race. Diversity is the outcome of intermediating spirits of time and place. Now assuredly, there is no more precious treasure than ethical monotheism, such as we have received through the deposit of revelation. Yet as Maimonides himself would council us, the very brilliance of our monotheistic heritage has blinded us to those shady aspects of human origins, of which the ancients, in the darkness of their own minds had a surer intuition. Though the ancients (and here I mean in particular the ancient Greek philosophers) were not enlightened by revelation, they at least gave an honest accounting of reality as best as they could understand it. In this sense they are different from the moderns, at least the unbelieving moderns, those who are seeking to deconstruct the results of revelation and make diversity a cause for disbelief in the Eternal Law.

A second, and final objection to Eternal Law should be at least briefly mentioned here. We have seen how the obvious accounting for diversity is provided by a brief and economical admission of intermediary spirits into any comprehensive ontology. By “economical” I mean not getting sidetracked into a substantive concern with the nature of the spirits on the philosophical level, which would only deflect from the argument against the anthropolgenic theories. Yet even more important than accounting for human diversity is giving adequate consideration to human thought, choice, and action. If, in fact, the Eternal Law robbed humanity of its essential characteristic of rational action (praxis) then its critics would be correct in labeling it a tyrannical monstrosity. On the contrary, it would seem more likely that it is modernity, not the Eternal Law, which is transforming the human race into an aggregate of soulless robots.

While a comprehensive argument to that effect is beyond the scope of this writing, suffice to say that human praxis is part and parcel of maintaining the Eternal Law. The key point here is that the refutation of anthropogenic theses is not at all prejudicial to human freedom. Human beings must, if fact, exert themselves, if they are to play their proper part in the discovery, reception, and administration of the Eternal Law, since such a Law could only apply to humans (not e.g., angels) if it were adapted to the small-case “laws” of a human commonwealth. This, again, was easier for the ancients to see than for the moderns to grasp. Modernity, founded on a subjective basis, conceives of societal creation as human construction project, or in the case of post-modernity as deconstruction. The ancients, with their ontological bent, saw legislating for the community as a discovery process, and a search into transcendental principles.

Hence Plato, having stated the case for organizing human society on the basis of trancendent ideas in his dialogue Republic, reverts to more practical, action oriented prescriptions in his Laws. He even talks about the need to amend the laws of the commonwealth, and for active legislation in some cases. In what sense does this differ from modern, secular notions of positive law? It differs in the same way that metaphysics is different from poetry. Plato’s legislator never strikes out on his own, and his laws are never innovations, but rather reforms and returns to the primordial archetypes of the ideas. Even in a hypothetically normal world of “evenly-rotating” generations, this reforming of the laws of the commonwealth in the direction of Eternal Law would be a demanding task, due to the entropic quality of all existence, inclusive of human society. In our times, dominated by subjective, anthropogenic thinking, it would require truly heroic vigor.

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