The Dark Enlightenment

Posted on March 29, 2025 by antilogicalism under Philosophy, Politics, Science

The Dark Enlightenment, a reactionary movement that seeks to dismantle democracy and replace it with a form of authoritarian technocracy, presents itself as an intellectual alternative to modern liberalism. But upon closer examination, it is little more than a regressive, anti-humanist ideology wrapped in pseudo-intellectual justifications. It is a movement that fetishizes hierarchy, glorifies elitism, and dismisses human rights as naïve sentimentality. It is not merely wrong—it is dangerous.

At the core of the Dark Enlightenment is the claim that democracy is inherently flawed, inefficient, and destined to collapse under the weight of its own contradictions. This argument is neither new nor particularly compelling. Critics of democracy have existed since Plato, yet time and again, democracy has proven to be the most effective system for balancing stability, adaptability, and individual rights. The democratic experiment, though imperfect, has been the primary engine of human progress in the modern era. It has allowed for the peaceful transfer of power, the protection of civil liberties, and the empowerment of marginalized voices. The idea that democracy is a failure is not borne out by history; rather, history shows that democracy’s failures arise when it is weakened, subverted, or hollowed out by powerful interests.

Yes, democracy is messy. It is slow. It requires compromise and debate. But the alternative—authoritarian rule—inevitably leads to oppression, stagnation, and abuse. History is littered with the failures of autocratic regimes that, despite promises of “efficient governance,” ultimately collapsed under the weight of corruption, incompetence, and the unchecked ego of their rulers. From the Roman emperors to the feudal monarchies of Europe, from fascist strongmen to communist dictators, centralized rule without accountability has led to some of the worst atrocities in human history. The neoreactionary fantasy of a society ruled by an enlightened monarch or a technocratic elite is naïve at best and dystopian at worst.

The real problem is not democracy itself, but rather the way it has been undermined—by corporate interests, systemic inequality, and the erosion of public trust. If democracy struggles, it is not because democracy is inherently broken, but because those in power have deliberately weakened democratic institutions. The answer is not to abandon democracy but to strengthen it, making it more responsive, accountable, and participatory. The failures of democracy are not failures of the idea itself, but failures of its execution—failures that require more democracy, not less.

The Dark Enlightenment rests on the assumption that some people are naturally fit to rule while others are destined to be ruled. This is an old, discredited argument that has been used for centuries to justify monarchy, colonialism, slavery, and every form of oppression imaginable. The claim that certain elites—whether by birth, intelligence, or economic success—deserve absolute power is nothing more than a modernized version of feudalism. The movement seeks to return to a world where power is concentrated in the hands of a few, where the many exist to serve the elite, and where social mobility is nonexistent. This vision is not only unjust but also fundamentally unsustainable.

Human societies are not static pyramids where power must always flow to the “best.” Societies evolve through collaboration, mutual respect, and the acknowledgment that all people, regardless of background, deserve dignity and a voice in their governance. The idea that a Silicon Valley billionaire or a reactionary philosopher is better suited to rule than a democratically elected leader is both arrogant and absurd. The greatest achievements of civilization—from scientific discoveries to human rights advancements—have come from societies that foster participation, creativity, and pluralism, not those that concentrate power in the hands of a few self-proclaimed “geniuses.”

Neoreactionaries often talk about “exit” rather than “voice”—the idea that, instead of engaging with society to improve it, elites should simply leave and build their own enclaves, free from the “burden” of democracy. This is seen in their fascination with seasteading, private city-states, and techno-feudal governance models. The belief that elites can simply opt out of the broader social contract and create a utopia free from the “irrational masses” is not only a form of cowardice but also an utter misreading of history and human nature.

This philosophy is not only unrealistic but deeply anti-social. The great advancements of human civilization have come from engagement, cooperation, and collective struggle—not from elites retreating into their own bubbles. The world’s problems will not be solved by billionaires retreating to floating islands, nor will the creation of a corporate monarchy suddenly make governance more just. Societies are strongest when they build together, not when the powerful abandon the weak. Any attempt to create a parallel society for the elite would be doomed to failure, as history has shown time and again that even the most powerful are still dependent on the broader social fabric. The idea that governance should be based on the principle of “exit” rather than “voice” is nothing more than an excuse for evading responsibility.

One of the most chilling aspects of the Dark Enlightenment is its dehumanization of the majority of people. It sees individuals not as citizens with rights and dignity, but as a mass to be managed by their “betters.” This is why neoreactionaries admire autocratic regimes—they do not see oppression as a moral failure but as an efficient way to run a society. They believe that inequality is not only natural but desirable, that democracy’s attempts to level the playing field are futile, and that the strong should rule over the weak without interference.

The greatest atrocities of the twentieth century—colonial exploitation, fascist dictatorships, Stalinist purges—were all based on the idea that some people are less valuable than others and that centralized power should be given to an elite who “knows best.” The Dark Enlightenment is not an intellectual revolution; it is merely a recycling of the same authoritarian logic that has led to suffering and bloodshed throughout history. It does not offer a new path forward but instead seeks to revive the worst elements of the past under the guise of rationalism and efficiency.

Neoreactionaries fantasize about running society like a tech startup, where a “CEO-king” makes all decisions efficiently without public interference. This ignores a fundamental reality: even corporations are not immune to inefficiency, corruption, and failure. Tech companies have been responsible for some of the greatest disasters of the modern era—data breaches, monopolistic abuses, and exploitative labor practices. The idea that the same billionaires who cannot manage social media platforms without causing harm would somehow govern a society effectively is laughable.

Even if a technocratic dictatorship could function efficiently for a time, what happens when the ruler is incompetent, corrupt, or malicious? Without democratic checks and balances, there is no peaceful way to remove a failing leader. The result is either tyranny or revolution—both of which lead to unnecessary suffering. Any system that relies on the benevolence of a single ruler or a small elite is doomed to fail, because power without accountability inevitably leads to abuse.

The failures of modern democracy are not an argument for its abolition, but for its renewal. Democracy must evolve to meet modern challenges—economic inequality, misinformation, climate change—not be replaced with a dictatorship, whether by monarchs or tech elites. The solutions to our problems do not lie in authoritarian fantasies but in greater participation, civic education, and the restructuring of economic systems to benefit all people, not just the elite. We should be striving toward a more democratic, just, and inclusive world—not regressing to medieval notions of kings and subjects.

The Dark Enlightenment is not an intellectual movement. It is a justification for power-hungry elites to rule without accountability. It is not a bold vision for the future—it is a cowardly retreat into the past. It is the ideology of those who have given up on humanity, who see oppression as a virtue, and who mistake cynicism for wisdom.

For those of us who still believe in justice, equality, and the inherent dignity of all people, the answer to the Dark Enlightenment is clear: we reject it in its entirety.

Prison Notebooks

Posted on December 8, 2024 by antilogicalism under Culture, Economics, Philosophy, Politics

Antonio Gramsci, an Italian Marxist philosopher, politician, and revolutionary, stands as one of the most influential thinkers of the 20th century. His work transcends traditional Marxist thought, introducing nuanced theories of culture, ideology, and power that continue to resonate in contemporary political and cultural analysis. Born on January 22, 1891, in Ales, Sardinia, Gramsci’s early life was marked by poverty and illness, which significantly shaped his worldview. Despite these challenges, he excelled academically, eventually attending the University of Turin, where he was exposed to socialist ideas and became active in political organizing. It was in Turin, a hub of industrial activity, that Gramsci’s intellectual and political trajectory began to coalesce, informed by his observations of class struggle and the dynamics of industrial capitalism.

Gramsci’s contribution to Marxist theory is most prominently encapsulated in his concept of cultural hegemony. Unlike classical Marxism, which emphasized the economic base’s determination of the ideological superstructure, Gramsci proposed a more reciprocal and dynamic relationship between these spheres. He argued that ruling classes maintain dominance not merely through coercive means but also by securing consent from subordinate classes. This consent is achieved through the dissemination of ideologies that naturalize and legitimize the existing social order. For Gramsci, culture and ideology were not mere reflections of economic realities but active arenas of struggle where competing social forces vied for dominance. This insight expanded the scope of Marxist analysis, emphasizing the importance of intellectual and cultural work in revolutionary praxis.

Gramsci’s theory of hegemony also introduced the distinction between civil society and political society. Political society, comprising institutions like the state, law enforcement, and the military, represents the realm of coercive power. In contrast, civil society includes cultural, educational, and religious institutions that shape public consciousness and generate consent. For Gramsci, a revolutionary movement must not only confront the state but also transform civil society, challenging the dominant cultural and ideological frameworks that underpin the status quo. This dual approach necessitates the creation of what Gramsci termed a “counter-hegemony,” an alternative set of ideas and cultural practices that can inspire and mobilize the working class toward revolutionary change.

Gramsci’s emphasis on the role of intellectuals in this process marked another significant departure from traditional Marxism. He challenged the notion of intellectuals as a distinct class, instead categorizing them based on their function within society. Traditional intellectuals, such as clergy and academics, often serve to perpetuate the dominant ideology. In contrast, organic intellectuals emerge from within the working class and articulate its interests and aspirations. These organic intellectuals play a crucial role in fostering class consciousness and building counter-hegemonic movements. Gramsci’s nuanced understanding of intellectuals underscores the importance of education, culture, and leadership in achieving social transformation.

The prison years were a pivotal period in Gramsci’s intellectual development. Arrested in 1926 by Mussolini’s fascist regime, Gramsci spent over a decade in prison, where he produced his most significant work, the Prison Notebooks. These writings, smuggled out of prison, reveal a profound engagement with a wide range of topics, including history, philosophy, literature, and linguistics. Gramsci’s reflections on the Italian Risorgimento, for instance, offer a penetrating analysis of the limitations of bourgeois leadership and the failure to forge a robust popular alliance. He critiqued the passive revolution, a process by which social change occurs without significant popular mobilization, resulting in limited and compromised outcomes. This concept has been influential in analyzing historical and contemporary instances of reform and revolution.

Gramsci’s ideas also grapple with the question of historical agency and the conditions for revolutionary change. While he remained committed to Marxism, he rejected deterministic interpretations of historical materialism. For Gramsci, history is not an inevitable march toward socialism but a terrain of struggle shaped by human action and contingency. This perspective aligns with his broader emphasis on culture and ideology, which he viewed as integral to the dynamics of social transformation. Gramsci’s rejection of economic determinism allowed for a more flexible and context-sensitive analysis of power and resistance, making his work particularly relevant in diverse and complex social contexts.

Language and education were central concerns in Gramsci’s thought. He recognized the role of language in shaping consciousness and social relations, arguing that linguistic practices reflect and reinforce power dynamics. His analysis of the Italian language question, for instance, highlighted the cultural and political implications of linguistic standardization. Gramsci also emphasized the transformative potential of education, advocating for a system that fosters critical thinking and empowers individuals to challenge oppressive structures. His ideas on education continue to influence progressive pedagogical approaches, particularly in the tradition of critical pedagogy developed by scholars like Paulo Freire.

The legacy of Gramsci’s thought extends far beyond his immediate historical context. His theories of hegemony, civil society, and intellectuals have profoundly influenced a wide range of disciplines, including sociology, cultural studies, political science, and education. Postcolonial theorists, for instance, have drawn on Gramsci’s insights to analyze the cultural dimensions of imperialism and resistance. His work has also been instrumental in the development of neo-Marxist theories, particularly within the Frankfurt School and the Birmingham School of Cultural Studies. Scholars such as Stuart Hall and Raymond Williams have built on Gramsci’s ideas to explore the interplay between culture, ideology, and power in modern societies.

Critics of Gramsci have raised concerns about the potential for his emphasis on culture and ideology to dilute the materialist foundations of Marxism. Some argue that his focus on consent and civil society risks underestimating the enduring significance of economic exploitation and state coercion in sustaining capitalist dominance. However, defenders of Gramsci counter that his work does not abandon materialism but rather enriches it by incorporating a more comprehensive understanding of the mechanisms of power. Gramsci’s synthesis of materialist and cultural analysis represents a significant advancement in Marxist theory, offering tools to address the complexities of modern capitalism.

Gramsci’s life and work also serve as a powerful testament to the resilience of human spirit and intellect in the face of adversity. Despite the physical and psychological toll of imprisonment, he produced a body of work that continues to inspire and challenge. His commitment to social justice, intellectual rigor, and revolutionary praxis remains a beacon for those seeking to understand and transform the world. Gramsci’s insights into the dynamics of power and resistance offer a framework for analyzing the challenges of the 21st century, from the rise of authoritarianism to the persistence of inequality and environmental crisis.

Antonio Gramsci’s enduring relevance lies in his ability to bridge the gap between theory and practice, providing a nuanced and actionable understanding of social change. His work challenges us to think critically about the forces that shape our world and to imagine alternative possibilities. In an era marked by profound social and political challenges, Gramsci’s vision of counter-hegemony and transformative praxis offers a vital source of inspiration and guidance. His legacy reminds us that the struggle for a just and equitable society is not only a matter of economic redistribution but also a cultural and ideological battle that demands creativity, courage, and solidarity.

Liberation Theology

Posted on November 21, 2024 by antilogicalism under Politics, Religion

Liberation theology emerged as a significant movement within Christian thought during the late 20th century, particularly in Latin America. It represents a paradigm shift in the way theology is understood and applied in the world, emphasizing the importance of social justice, human dignity, and the liberation of oppressed peoples. This theological movement sought to address the deep-seated social, economic, and political inequalities that characterized much of Latin American society and has had a lasting impact on both religious and secular spheres. At its heart, liberation theology is a call to action for Christians to engage in the struggle for justice and human dignity, a vision rooted not only in theological reflection but also in a lived praxis that confronts oppression and seeks liberation.

Liberation theology emerged in the 1960s and 1970s as a response to the widespread social, economic, and political conditions of Latin American countries. The region was marked by extreme poverty, political repression, and social inequality, particularly affecting rural and marginalized communities. Many saw the traditional role of the Catholic Church as either complicit in or indifferent to these conditions. However, a new generation of theologians and clergy began to see the potential for the Church to act as a force for justice. Theologians like Gustavo Gutiérrez, whose seminal work A Theology of Liberation (1971) is often considered the foundational text of the movement, sought to reinterpret Christian doctrine in light of the realities of poverty and oppression. Gutiérrez and others argued that faith must move beyond a merely individual and spiritualized focus on personal salvation and embrace a theology of action aimed at transforming society.

At the heart of liberation theology is the “preferential option for the poor,” a principle that asserts that God has a special concern for the poor and oppressed, and that Christians are called to prioritize their needs in both personal and collective action. This idea is rooted in the biblical narrative, particularly in the story of the exodus, where God frees the Israelites from slavery, and in the teachings of Jesus, who stands in solidarity with those on the margins of society. Liberation theology suggests that the Gospel message cannot be fully understood without addressing social, economic, and political inequalities. This “option for the poor” demands that the Church’s mission extend beyond individual piety and personal salvation to actively challenge systems of oppression, injustice, and inequality. It recognizes that the Kingdom of God is not merely a future, spiritual reality but a present struggle for justice, equality, and human dignity.

The social gospel, another central theme of liberation theology, emphasizes collective liberation rather than individual salvation. It stresses that the Kingdom of God is not just a future reality but an ongoing struggle for justice and equity here and now. Theologians like Gutiérrez and his contemporaries argued that Christians must move from a purely individualistic focus on salvation to a broader, communal approach that includes the pursuit of justice. This involves not just a change of heart but a change of structures. Liberation theology calls for active engagement with the world, working alongside the poor and oppressed to dismantle systems of economic exploitation, political oppression, and social inequality. It insists that Christian faith should not be divorced from social action, and that the Church must be a community that stands in solidarity with the poor and works toward their liberation.

The emphasis on praxis, or action informed by reflection, is a key element of liberation theology. This involves not only understanding the conditions of the oppressed but also acting to change them. Theologians argue that faith without works is meaningless, and Christian action should directly confront unjust structures such as colonialism, racism, and economic exploitation. In this sense, liberation theology seeks to bridge the gap between theory and practice, grounding theological reflection in the realities of daily life. This praxis involves collaboration between theology and social sciences, as liberation theologians often draw on insights from disciplines like sociology, economics, and anthropology to understand the root causes of poverty and oppression.

A radical reinterpretation of scripture is another foundational aspect of liberation theology. Theologians emphasize that the Bible should be read through the eyes of the oppressed. They point to passages such as the exodus story, in which God frees the Israelites from slavery, as central motifs for understanding God’s ongoing work of liberation in the world. Jesus’ ministry, in this framework, is understood as one of radical inclusivity and justice for the marginalized. The story of Jesus feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and challenging oppressive religious and political structures becomes a model for Christian action. This reinterpretation of scripture not only uncovers a biblical mandate for social justice but also challenges the traditional interpretations of Christianity that often focus solely on individual salvation.

Gustavo Gutiérrez, one of the key figures in the development of liberation theology, has had a profound impact on the movement. His work A Theology of Liberation laid the theological and biblical foundations for the movement, urging Christians to recognize the material conditions of the poor and oppressed and to act to change them. Gutiérrez’s theology is deeply influenced by Marxist thought, particularly the idea of class struggle. He does not advocate for a purely Marxist approach to theology but argues that Christians must recognize the structural nature of poverty and oppression and work to dismantle unjust social systems. Liberation theology, in Gutiérrez’s view, is a way of engaging the world that combines faith with a commitment to social transformation. His emphasis on the importance of grassroots communities, such as the Base Ecclesial Communities (CEBs), became a powerful force for political activism and social change. These communities, which sought to read the Bible together and understand their lives through the lens of scripture, became centers of solidarity, education, and advocacy for the poor.

The impact of liberation theology extended beyond Latin America, influencing movements for social justice and human rights worldwide. In many cases, the movement inspired clergy and laypeople to engage in advocacy for land reform, workers’ rights, and the end of military dictatorships. Liberation theologians often risked their lives to challenge oppressive regimes, and figures like Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador became iconic figures of resistance and advocacy. Romero, who was martyred for his outspoken commitment to social justice, called on the Church to be a voice for the poor and oppressed, urging Christians to work for justice even at the cost of personal risk. Liberation theology provided a framework that connected faith with action, challenging the institutional Church to go beyond traditional forms of ministry and engage in political and social activism.

However, liberation theology faced significant criticism, particularly from conservative factions within the Catholic Church. The Vatican, under the leadership of Pope John Paul II and Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (who later became Pope Benedict XVI), condemned aspects of liberation theology, particularly its Marxist influences. Critics argued that liberation theology’s focus on political activism detracted from the spiritual mission of the Church and could lead to the politicization of religion. The Vatican expressed concerns that this focus might divert the Church from its pastoral mission and challenge the doctrine of papal authority. These critiques often centered on the perception that liberation theology sought to align Christianity too closely with Marxist ideology, though liberation theologians themselves emphasized that their focus was on justice and human dignity rather than political ideology.

Despite these criticisms, liberation theology has continued to evolve and inspire new generations of theologians and activists. It has adapted to various contexts, including feminist liberation theology, black liberation theology, and queer liberation theology, each of which applies the principles of liberation theology to address specific forms of oppression. These new strands of liberation theology highlight the interconnected nature of various forms of oppression and emphasize the importance of solidarity across different social justice movements. This pluralistic approach to theology remains a compelling vision of faith that is intimately tied to the realities of human suffering and the quest for justice.

In conclusion, liberation theology represents a powerful and transformative approach to theology that seeks to address the material conditions of the poor and oppressed. By emphasizing social justice, human dignity, and the preferential option for the poor, liberation theology challenges Christians to move beyond personal salvation and engage in the struggle for systemic change. While it has faced significant opposition and criticism, its influence on both the religious and political spheres is undeniable. Liberation theology remains a vision of faith that calls for active solidarity with the poor and marginalized, rooted in a deep commitment to justice and human dignity. It continues to inspire new generations of theologians, activists, and Christians who seek to live out their faith in ways that challenge oppressive structures and build a more just and compassionate world.

American Oligarchy

Posted on November 11, 2024 by antilogicalism under Politics

In an era when the United States is drifting dangerously close to oligarchy, voting for a third-party candidate is not only a strategic choice but a moral one. With corporations dictating policy, entrenched political elites hoarding power, and wealth disparity mimicking that of the late 19th-century Gilded Age, it has become impossible to ignore the stranglehold that money and privilege have over American politics. The two-party system has created a chokehold on democracy, silencing millions who dare to ask for a government that serves them, rather than the top 1%. Voting third party, then, is an act of resistance, a demand for accountability, and a refusal to perpetuate the corrupt system that is rapidly undermining democratic values.

The influence of corporations on U.S. politics is staggering. The Supreme Court’s disastrous Citizens United v. FEC decision in 2010 effectively legalized unlimited corporate spending in elections, handing the nation over to an elite few who wield unchecked power. This ruling ensures that elections are decided not by the will of the people but by billionaires and corporations funneling massive donations to their preferred candidates. Both the Democratic and Republican parties have accepted this money, turning campaigns into a war chest for the wealthy while everyday Americans struggle to make ends meet. This is not democracy; it is a corporate-controlled sham that rewards the powerful and crushes the powerless. Voting third party represents a clear rejection of this cycle, as third-party candidates are often far less reliant on corporate donations and far more committed to campaign finance reform that would put power back in the hands of the people.

We are living through a “second Gilded Age,” where economic inequality has reached alarming levels, and the American Dream is becoming nothing more than a cruel joke for most citizens. It is no coincidence that the wealth gap has ballooned in parallel with the consolidation of power by the two major parties. This wealth disparity is not just the product of a competitive economy; it is a deliberate result of policies that both major parties have supported for decades. Policies favoring deregulation, corporate bailouts, and tax breaks for the rich have created a class of ultra-wealthy individuals whose fortunes are protected at the expense of public welfare. The two-party system is complicit in perpetuating this inequality, cementing a reality where the richest Americans see their wealth multiply while the working class faces stagnation, poverty, and disenfranchisement. Third-party candidates, by contrast, generally advocate for progressive taxation, universal healthcare, and robust social programs. Voting for them is a statement that these issues matter, that wealth inequality is not just a statistic but a human crisis that requires urgent action.

The most immediate practical reason for voting third party is to help these parties gain 5% of the popular vote, qualifying them for federal funding in the next election cycle. With a larger base of resources, third parties can begin to mount competitive campaigns that challenge the duopoly of Republicans and Democrats. This access to funding is critical, as one of the greatest challenges third parties face is the stranglehold that money has on political viability. Major parties receive millions from wealthy donors, while third parties rely on grassroots support. By helping a third party achieve the 5% threshold, voters are laying the groundwork for future elections where third parties can truly compete, amplifying the voices that the two-party system has long sought to silence.

Those who say that voting third party is a “wasted vote” are perpetuating the very system that prevents third parties from gaining any traction. A vote is only wasted if it betrays your principles, not if it fails to result in an immediate victory. If the majority of Americans who express disillusionment with the two-party system actually voted third party, the landscape of American politics would be transformed overnight. By voting third party, citizens are rejecting the “lesser of two evils” narrative that keeps them trapped in a binary choice between candidates who both ultimately serve the same interests. Instead, a third-party vote demands that the entire political establishment be held accountable to the diverse values, needs, and aspirations of the American people.

The two-party system has fostered a culture where real solutions are sidelined, and innovative ideas are smothered in favor of the same stale, profit-driven agendas. This system locks out voices that challenge the status quo, leading to stagnation and neglect of urgent issues like climate change, wealth inequality, and healthcare reform. When third-party candidates bring these issues to the forefront, they force the conversation to shift. For example, the Green Party’s emphasis on climate action has pushed major parties to at least acknowledge environmental issues—something they likely would have ignored otherwise. Voting third party pressures the dominant parties to address ideas they would prefer to sideline or ignore. In this way, third-party votes create a ripple effect, challenging the narrow ideological boundaries that the two-party system imposes.

The structures supporting the two-party system are deeply entrenched and designed to perpetuate the illusion of choice while maintaining power within the same few hands. Winner-take-all voting, the Electoral College, and gerrymandering distort representation, discouraging third-party candidates and disenfranchising voters whose views do not align perfectly with either major party. These practices, upheld by both Democrats and Republicans, create an environment in which dissenting voices are marginalized. Yet, many third-party candidates advocate for structural reforms like ranked-choice voting and proportional representation. Supporting them sends a message that the current system is unacceptable and that the American people deserve a political structure that reflects their diversity and complexity, not a binary forced upon them by those who benefit from maintaining the status quo.

In a political landscape so dominated by corporate interests and entrenched elites, apathy has become a common reaction. Many Americans feel that their votes don’t matter, that their voices are drowned out in a system that caters to the wealthy and powerful. But this apathy is precisely what those in power rely on to maintain their grip. By voting third party, individuals reclaim their agency, refusing to accept that their only choices are to vote for candidates they don’t believe in or to abstain from voting altogether. Voting third party is a defiant declaration that the people’s voices will not be silenced, that they will not be pacified by the empty promises of two parties that have proven time and again that they serve wealth over welfare, power over principle.

In many functioning democracies, coalition governments and multi-party systems are the norm. These systems encourage negotiation, compromise, and accountability, fostering a government that is responsive to the needs of its people. The United States, by contrast, has settled into a two-party model that discourages cooperation and forces every issue into a partisan standoff. Supporting third parties is a necessary first step toward a multi-party system in which collaboration and genuine representation become possible. A third-party vote today is a vote for a different future, one where Americans are not forced into an endless tug-of-war but instead have a say in a truly democratic and representative government.

Voting for a third-party candidate is a moral imperative in a political climate marked by corporate control, vast economic inequality, and a lack of representation. It is an act of defiance against a political machine that has long stopped serving the interests of ordinary Americans. Voting third party is not just about supporting alternative candidates; it is about rejecting a system that has betrayed its democratic principles, that has given way to an oligarchy serving only the privileged few. The stakes are too high to settle for the illusion of choice between two parties that are more alike than they are different. By casting a vote that reflects genuine values and demanding change, Americans can help dismantle a system that serves the few and rebuild one that serves the many. In this second Gilded Age, voting third party is not just an option—it is an obligation for those who believe in democracy and justice.

Index Librorum Prohibitorum

Posted on April 15, 2023 by antilogicalism under Culture, Education, Ethics, History, Philosophy, Politics, Psychology, Religion

Remembrance plaque on the Marktplatz in Neustadt an der Weinstrasse, reading: Where they have burned books, they will end in burning human beings. (Heinrich Heine, 1820) In memory of the book burning by the National Socialists on May 14, 1933

The Index Librorum Prohibitorum (“List of Prohibited Books”) was a list of publications deemed heretical or contrary to morality by the Sacred Congregation of the Index (a former Dicastery of the Roman Curia); Catholics were forbidden to read them.

There were attempts to ban heretical books before the sixteenth century, notably in the ninth-century Decretum Glasianum; the Index of Prohibited Books of 1560 banned thousands of book titles and blacklisted publications, including the works of Europe’s intellectual elites. The 20th and final edition of the Index appeared in 1948; the Index was formally abolished on 14 June 1966 by Pope Paul VI.

The Index condemned religious and secular texts alike, grading works by the degree to which they were seen to be repugnant to the church. The aim of the list was to protect church members from reading theologically, culturally, or politically disruptive books. Such books included works by astronomers, such as Johannes Kepler’s Epitome astronomiae Copernicanae (published in three volumes from 1618 to 1621), which was on the Index from 1621 to 1835; works by philosophers, such as Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason (1781); and editions and translations of the Bible that had not been approved. Editions of the Index also contained the rules of the Church relating to the reading, selling, and preemptive censorship of books.

The canon law of the Latin Church still recommends that works should be submitted to the judgment of the local ordinary if they concern sacred scripture, theology, canon law, or church history, religion or morals. The local ordinary consults someone whom he considers competent to give a judgment and, if that person gives the nihil obstat (“nothing forbids”), the local ordinary grants the imprimatur (“let it be printed”). Members of religious institutes require the imprimi potest (“it can be printed”) of their major superior to publish books on matters of religion or morals.

Some of the scientific theories contained in works in early editions of the Index have long been taught at Catholic universities. For example, the general prohibition of books advocating heliocentrism was removed from the Index in 1758, but two Franciscan mathematicians had published an edition of Isaac Newton’s Principia Mathematica (1687) in 1742, with commentaries and a preface stating that the work assumed heliocentrism and could not be explained without it. A work of the Italian Catholic priest and philosopher Antonio Rosmini-Serbati was on the Index, but he was beatified in 2007. Some have argued that the developments since the abolition of the Index signify “the loss of relevance of the Index in the 21st century.”

J. Martínez de Bujanda’s Index Librorum Prohibitorum, 1600–1966 lists the authors and writings in the successive editions of the Index, while Miguel Carvalho Abrantes’s Why Did The Inquisition Ban Certain Books?: A Case Study from Portugal tries to understand why certain books were forbidden based on a Portuguese edition of the Index Librorum Prohibitorum from 1581.

Emperor Constantine and the Council of Nicaea. The burning of Arian books. (Illustration from a compendium of canon law, ca. 825, MS. in the Capitular Library, Vercelli)

European Restrictions on the Right to Print

The historical context in which the Index appeared involved the early restrictions on printing in Europe. The refinement of moveable type and the printing press by Johannes Gutenberg circa 1440 changed the nature of book publishing, and the mechanism by which information could be disseminated to the public. Books, once rare and kept carefully in a small number of libraries, could be mass-produced and widely disseminated.

In the 16th century, both the churches and governments in most European countries attempted to regulate and control printing because it allowed for rapid and widespread circulation of ideas and information. The Protestant Reformation generated large quantities of polemical new writing by and within both the Catholic and Protestant camps, and religious subject-matter was typically the area most subject to control. While governments and church encouraged printing in many ways, which allowed the dissemination of Bibles and government information, works of dissent and criticism could also circulate rapidly. As a consequence, governments established controls over printers across Europe, requiring them to have official licenses to trade and produce books.

The early versions of the Index began to appear from 1529 to 1571. In the same time frame, in 1557 the English Crown aimed to stem the flow of dissent by chartering the Stationers’ Company. The right to print was restricted to the two universities (Oxford and Cambridge) and to the 21 existing printers in the city of London, which had between them 53 printing presses.

The French crown also tightly controlled printing, and the printer and writer Etienne Dolet was burned at the stake for atheism in 1546. The 1551 Edict of Châteaubriant comprehensively summarized censorship positions to date, and included provisions for unpacking and inspecting all books brought into France. The 1557 Edict of Compiègne applied the death penalty to heretics and resulted in the burning of a noblewoman at the stake. Printers were viewed as radical and rebellious, with 800 authors, printers and book dealers being incarcerated in the Bastille. At times, the prohibitions of church and state followed each other, e.g. René Descartes was placed on the Index in the 1660s and the French government prohibited the teaching of Cartesianism in schools in the 1670s.

The Copyright Act 1710 in Britain, and later copyright laws in France, eased this situation. Historian Eckhard Höffner claims that copyright laws and their restrictions acted as a barrier to progress in those countries for over a century, since British publishers could print valuable knowledge in limited quantities for the sake of profit. The German economy prospered in the same time frame since there were no restrictions.

Early Indices (1529–1571)

The first list of the kind was not published in Rome, but in Catholic Netherlands (1529); Venice (1543) and Paris (1551) under the terms of the Edict of Châteaubriant followed this example. By mid-century, in the tense atmosphere of wars of religion in Germany and France, both Protestant and Catholic authorities reasoned that only control of the press, including a catalog of prohibited works, coordinated by ecclesiastic and governmental authorities, could prevent the spread of heresy.

Paul F. Grendler (1975) discusses the religious and political climate in Venice from 1540 to 1605. There were many attempts to censor the Venetian press, which at that time was one of the largest concentrations of printers. Both church and government held to a belief in censorship, but the publishers continually pushed back on the efforts to ban books and shut down printing. More than once the index of banned books in Venice was suppressed or suspended because various people took a stand against it.

The first Roman Index was printed in 1557 under the direction of Pope Paul IV (1555–1559), but then withdrawn for unclear reasons. In 1559, a new index was finally published, banning the entire works of some 550 authors in addition to the individual proscribed titles: “The Pauline Index felt that the religious convictions of an author contaminated all his writing.” The work of the censors was considered too severe and met with much opposition even in Catholic intellectual circles; after the Council of Trent had authorized a revised list prepared under Pope Pius IV, the so-called Tridentine Index was promulgated in 1564; it remained the basis of all later lists until Pope Leo XIII, in 1897, published his Index Leonianus.

The blacklisting of some Protestant scholars even when writing on subjects a modern reader would consider outside the realm of dogma meant that, unless they obtained a dispensation, obedient Catholic thinkers were denied access to works including: botanist Conrad Gesner’s Historiae animalium; the botanical works of Otto Brunfels; those of the medical scholar Janus Cornarius; to Christoph Hegendorff or Johann Oldendorp on the theory of law; Protestant geographers and cosmographers like Jacob Ziegler or Sebastian Münster; as well as anything by Protestant theologians like Martin Luther, John Calvin or Philipp Melanchthon. Among the inclusions was the Libri Carolini, a theological work from the 9th-century court of Charlemagne, which was published in 1549 by Bishop Jean du Tillet and which had already been on two other lists of prohibited books before being inserted into the Tridentine Index.

Killing the Scholars and Burning the Books, anonymous 18th century Chinese painted album leaf; Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris

Sacred Congregation of the Index (1571–1917)

In 1571, a special congregation was created, the Sacred Congregation of the Index, which had the specific task to investigate those writings that were denounced in Rome as being not exempt of errors, to update the list of Pope Pius IV regularly and also to make lists of required corrections in case a writing was not to be condemned absolutely but only in need of correction; it was then listed with a mitigating clause (e.g., donec corrigatur (forbidden until corrected) or donec expurgetur (forbidden until purged)).

Several times a year, the congregation held meetings. During the meetings, they reviewed various works and documented those discussions. In between the meetings was when the works to be discussed were thoroughly examined, and each work was scrutinized by two people. At the meetings, they collectively decided whether or not the works should be included in the Index. Ultimately, the pope was the one who had to approve of works being added or removed from the Index. It was the documentation from the meetings of the congregation that aided the pope in making his decision.

This sometimes resulted in very long lists of corrections, published in the Index Expurgatorius, which was cited by Thomas James in 1627 as “an invaluable reference work to be used by the curators of the Bodleian Library when listing those works particularly worthy of collecting”. Prohibitions made by other congregations (mostly the Holy Office) were simply passed on to the Congregation of the Index, where the final decrees were drafted and made public, after approval of the Pope (who always had the possibility to condemn an author personally—there are only a few examples of such condemnation, including those of Lamennais and Hermes).

An update to the Index was made by Pope Leo XIII, in the 1897 apostolic constitution Officiorum ac Munerum, known as the “Index Leonianus”. Subsequent editions of the Index were more sophisticated; they graded authors according to their supposed degree of toxicity, and they marked specific passages for expurgation rather than condemning entire books.

The Sacred Congregation of the Inquisition of the Roman Catholic Church later became the Holy Office, and since 1965 has been called the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. The Congregation of the Index was merged with the Holy Office in 1917, by the Motu Proprio “Alloquentes Proxime” of Pope Benedict XV; the rules on the reading of books were again re-elaborated in the new Codex Iuris Canonici. From 1917 onward, the Holy Office (again) took care of the Index.

Holy Office (1917–1966)

While individual books continued to be forbidden, the last edition of the Index to be published appeared in 1948. This 20th edition contained 4,000 titles censored for various reasons: heresy, moral deficiency, sexual explicitness, and so on. That some atheists, such as Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, were not included was due to the general (Tridentine) rule that heretical works (i.e., works that contradict Catholic dogma) are ipso facto forbidden. Some important works are absent simply because nobody bothered to denounce them. Many actions of the congregations were of a definite political content. Among the significant listed works of the period was the Nazi philosopher Alfred Rosenberg’s Myth of the Twentieth Century for scorning and rejecting “all dogmas of the Catholic Church, indeed the very fundamentals of the Christian religion”.

Abolition (1966)

On 7 December 1965, Pope Paul VI issued the Motu Proprio Integrae servandae that reorganized the Holy Office as the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. The Index was not listed as being a part of the newly constituted congregation’s competence, leading to questioning whether it still was. This question was put to Cardinal Alfredo Ottaviani, pro-prefect of the congregation, who responded in the negative. The Cardinal also indicated in his response that there was going to be a change in the Index soon.

A June 1966 Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith notification announced that, while the Index maintained its moral force, in that it taught Christians to beware, as required by the natural law itself, of those writings that could endanger faith and morality, it no longer had the force of ecclesiastical positive law with the associated penalties.

Pedro Berruguete: Saint Dominic and the Albigensians. A dispute between Saint Dominic and the Cathars in which the books of both were thrown on a fire and St. Dominic’s books were miraculously preserved from the flames.

Censorship and Enforcement

The Index was not simply a reactive work. Roman Catholic authors had the opportunity to defend their writings and could prepare a new edition with necessary corrections or deletions, either to avoid or to limit a ban. Pre-publication censorship was encouraged.

The Index was enforceable within the Papal States, but elsewhere only if adopted by the civil powers, as happened in several Italian states. Other areas adopted their own lists of forbidden books. In the Holy Roman Empire book censorship, which preceded publication of the Index, came under control of the Jesuits at the end of the 16th century, but had little effect, since the German princes within the empire set up their own systems. In France it was French officials who decided what books were banned and the Church’s Index was not recognized. Spain had its own Index Librorum Prohibitorum et Expurgatorum, which corresponded largely to the Church’s, but also included a list of books that were allowed once the forbidden part (sometimes a single sentence) was removed or “expurgated”.

Continued Moral Obligation

On 14 June 1966, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith responded to inquiries it had received regarding the continued moral obligation concerning books that had been listed in the Index. The response spoke of the books as examples of books dangerous to faith and morals, all of which, not just those once included in the Index, should be avoided regardless of the absence of any written law against them. The Index, it said, retains its moral force “inasmuch as” (quatenus) it teaches the conscience of Christians to beware, as required by the natural law itself, of writings that can endanger faith and morals, but it (the Index of Forbidden Books) no longer has the force of ecclesiastical law with the associated censures.

The congregation thus placed on the conscience of the individual Christian the responsibility to avoid all writings dangerous to faith and morals, while at the same time abolishing the previously existing ecclesiastical law and the relative censures, without thereby declaring that the books that had once been listed in the various editions of the Index of Prohibited Books had become free of error and danger.

In a letter of 31 January 1985 to Cardinal Giuseppe Siri, regarding the book The Poem of the Man-God, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (then Prefect of the Congregation, who later became Pope Benedict XVI), referred to the 1966 notification of the Congregation as follows: “After the dissolution of the Index, when some people thought the printing and distribution of the work was permitted, people were reminded again in L’Osservatore Romano (15 June 1966) that, as was published in the Acta Apostolicae Sedis (1966), the Index retains its moral force despite its dissolution. A decision against distributing and recommending a work, which has not been condemned lightly, may be reversed, but only after profound changes that neutralize the harm which such a publication could bring forth among the ordinary faithful.”

Changing Judgments

The content of the Index Librorum Prohibitorum saw deletions as well as additions over the centuries. Writings by Antonio Rosmini-Serbati were placed on the Index in 1849 but were removed by 1855, and Pope John Paul II mentioned Rosmini’s work as a significant example of “a process of philosophical enquiry which was enriched by engaging the data of faith”. The 1758 edition of the Index removed the general prohibition of works advocating heliocentrism as a fact rather than a hypothesis.

Listed Works and Authors

Noteworthy figures on the Index include Simone de Beauvoir, Nicolas Malebranche, Jean-Paul Sartre, Michel de Montaigne, Voltaire, Denis Diderot, Victor Hugo, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, André Gide, Nikos Kazantzakis, Emanuel Swedenborg, Baruch Spinoza, Desiderius Erasmus, Immanuel Kant, David Hume, René Descartes, Francis Bacon, Thomas Browne, John Milton, John Locke, Nicolaus Copernicus, Galileo Galilei, Blaise Pascal, and Hugo Grotius. The first woman to be placed on the list was Magdalena Haymairus in 1569, who was listed for her children’s book Die sontegliche Episteln über das gantze Jar in gesangsweis gestellt (Sunday Epistles on the whole Year, put into hymns). Other women include Anne Askew, Olympia Fulvia Morata, Ursula of Munsterberg (1491–1534), Veronica Franco, and Paola Antonia Negri (1508–1555). Contrary to a popular misconception, Charles Darwin’s works were never included.

In many cases, an author’s opera omnia (complete works) were forbidden. However, the Index stated that the prohibition of someone’s opera omnia did not preclude works that were not concerned with religion and were not forbidden by the general rules of the Index. This explanation was omitted in the 1929 edition, which was officially interpreted in 1940 as meaning that opera omnia covered all the author’s works without exception.

Cardinal Ottaviani stated in April 1966 that there was too much contemporary literature, and the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith could not keep up with it.

A member of the SA throws confiscated books into the bonfire during the public burning of “un-German” books on the Opernplatz in Berlin. In 1933, Nazis burned works of Jewish authors, and other works considered “un-German”, at the library of the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft in Berlin.

Wikipedia – Index Librorum Prohibitorum

List of Book-Burning Incidents

Book Burning

Internet Archive: Digital Library

Open Library

Project Gutenberg

Philosophy Should Care about the Filthy, Excessive and Unclean

Posted on May 28, 2019 by antilogicalism under Culture, Philosophy, Politics, Shared

Photo by Ayotunde Oguntoyinbo on Unsplash

Thomas White | Aeon Ideas

Philosophy traditionally has been about ‘higher’ questions: what is knowledge? What is the meaning of justice? What is the nature of ultimate reality? These questions soar above the petty concerns of the everyday and reach towards a realm of pure ideas. But can the ‘unclean’ – dirt, mud, bodily wastes, the grime of existence – be relevant to the philosopher’s quest for wisdom and the truth? Philosophers don’t often discuss filth and all its disgusting variations, but investigating the unclean turns out to be as useful an exercise as examining the highest ideals of justice, morality and metaphysics.

In his dialogue Parmenides, Plato gives us an inkling of the significance of philosophising about the unclean, which he names ‘undignified objects’, such as hair, mud and dirt. The young Socrates, at this stage but an entry-level philosopher, is discussing the foundations of reality with the venerable Parmenides. While this encounter between these philosophers about ‘undignified objects’ is brief, it is profound, for it shows how insightful thinkers use digressions and marginal comments to demonstrate that not everything is as clearcut as system-builders – including even Plato – might think.

Parmenides quizzes Socrates about whether the theory of ideal forms – the argument that particular material objects have correlated ideal patterns, which are the perfect forms of the imperfect things – can include mud and dirt. Can there be a perfect form of filth? Taken aback, Socrates confesses that he is troubled by this point because it seems to lead to nonsense: ‘perfect filth’ is contradictory. Instead, Socrates prefers to return to discussing the higher ideals of ‘goodness’ and ‘beauty’. Confronted by Parmenides with the unseemly facts of mud and dirt, he takes refuge in the beautiful – unlike Antoine Roquentin, the protagonist in Jean-Paul Sartre’s philosophical novel Nausea (1938), who, in confronting the ugly facticity of the world, obtains a glimpse of actual, albeit repugnant, reality.

Socrates’ puzzlement at how to explain the very lowest (dirt, mud) in terms of the very highest (ideal forms) suggests the limitations of the dualistic, two-world theory that has formed the basis of several millennia of Western thought. The unclean’s ‘undignified objects’ represent a kind of outer twilight zone – a metaphysical no-man’s land – that eludes overarching theories about the meaning of reality. The very resistance of filth’s inclusion into a master philosophical system serves as a cautionary note, and a lesson in Socratic humility, warning the ambitious and overeager intellectual to slow down. Do not try to assimilate every aspect of our diverse experience into grand explanatory narratives. The unclean’s raw existence is a great intractable that rudely interrupts a philosopher’s thinking when it fails to fit neatly into the theory of forms, thus forcing the philosopher to curb hasty, ambitious generalisations, and think even harder and more clearly. (The classicist Edith Hamilton, in her introductory notes to Parmenides, suggests that Plato attacked his own theory of Platonic ideas in order to know the truth, not to defend his own preconceived views.)

Parmenides’ concerns about the limits of the theory of forms presages the empiricist Francis Bacon. In Novum Organum (1620), he argued similarly for the limits of intellectual speculation, and about the dangers of creating idols out of promiscuously generated philosophical systems by exceeding speculative boundaries:

The understanding must also be cautioned against the intemperance of systems, so far as regards its giving or withholding its assent; for such intemperance appears to fix and perpetuate idols, so as to leave no means of removing them.

In our own day, Slavoj Žižek in his book Disparities (2016) echoes the Parmenidean point about how the unclean can disrupt our comfortable theories about reality: ‘[S]hit remains an excess which does not fit our daily reality.’ An experience of disgust in the presence of the filthy and unclean disturbs our sense of systems and order, causing a ‘disintegration’ of our metaphysical understanding of reality, ‘the very ontological coordinates which enable [us] to locate an object “out there”.’

Like Plato, Žižek uses allusions to the unclean to alert the reader to how repugnant, discordant facts can undercut a particular vision of reality. He also expands the use of the metaphor of filth to call our attention to something else closer to his heart: the failings of our modern political discourse. Bacon warned us of intellectual intemperance, but Žižek uses references to the unclean to warn us of modern political intemperance. In the cases of Plato, Bacon and Žižek, the philosophical issue raised is about boundaries and the implications of transgressing them.

In the unclean, Žižek finds the ultimate metaphor for the dumbing down of political thought and speech, a way of understanding the collapse of modern political discourse – itself an echo of Plato’s critique of the false, that is, ‘sophistical’ use of political language – in which ‘public vulgarity’ is used without shame.

He begins his argument with a scene from a surreal film from 1974 in which people at a dinner party defecate in public:

We probably all remember the scene from Luis Buñuel’s The Phantom of Liberty in which relations between eating and excreting are inverted: people sit at their toilets around the table, pleasantly talking, and when they want to eat, they silently ask the housekeeper: ‘Where is that place, you know?,’ and sneak away to a small room in the back.

Political figures today, Žižek argues, are committing the verbal equivalent of this public defecation. They are violating traditional, unwritten rules and boundaries that are used to guide public conduct by making outrageous statements that were once taboo. ‘They are a clear sign of the regression of our public sphere,’ he writes in Newsweek in 2016. ‘Accusations and ideas that were till now confined to the obscure underworld of racist obscenity are now gaining a foothold in official discourse.’ And citing Georg Hegel’s notion of Sittlichkeit – the ‘the thick background of (unwritten) rules of social life … that tell us what we can and cannot do’, Žižek further observes that ‘These [unwritten] rules are disintegrating today: what was a couple of decades ago simply unsayable in a public debate can now be pronounced with impunity.’

A discharge of verbal political filth has changed the public sphere into a kind of collective public toilet for language users – lurid speeches full of nasty ignorance, blatant vulgarity and raw prejudice. Plato and Žižek, with some tacit support from Bacon, use the notion of the unclean in similar ways to offer, implicitly, practical advice about how humans should conduct themselves: be wary of intemperately overstepping limits by chasing overweening ambitions, whether intellectual or political, which soil clear thinking and logic, and/or corrupt language, politics and ethics. Discussions of lowly filth, and all of its disgusting variations, are not merely the province of vulgarians, but seem to offer life lessons for everyone, not just philosophers.

Thomas White is a Wiley Journal contributing author, whose philosophical and theological writings have appeared in print and online.

This article was originally published at Aeon and has been republished under Creative Commons. Read the original article here.

To Avoid Moral Failure, Don’t See People as Sherlock Does

Posted on May 22, 2019 by antilogicalism under Ethics, Philosophy, Politics, Psychology, Shared

Suspicious minds; William Gillette as Sherlock Holmes (right) and Bruce McRae as Dr John Watson in the play Sherlock Holmes (c1900). Courtesy Wikimedia

Rima Basu | Aeon Ideas

If we’re the kind of people who care both about not being racist, and also about basing our beliefs on the evidence that we have, then the world presents us with a challenge. The world is pretty racist. It shouldn’t be surprising then that sometimes it seems as if the evidence is stacked in favour of some racist belief. For example, it’s racist to assume that someone’s a staff member on the basis of his skin colour. But what if it’s the case that, because of historical patterns of discrimination, the members of staff with whom you interact are predominantly of one race? When the late John Hope Franklin, professor of history at Duke University in North Carolina, hosted a dinner party at his private club in Washington, DC in 1995, he was mistaken as a member of staff. Did the woman who did so do something wrong? Yes. It was indeed racist of her, even though Franklin was, since 1962, that club’s first black member.

To begin with, we don’t relate to people in the same way that we relate to objects. Human beings are different in an important way. In the world, there are things – tables, chairs, desks and other objects that aren’t furniture – and we try our best to understand how this world works. We ask why plants grow when watered, why dogs give birth to dogs and never to cats, and so on. But when it comes to people, ‘we have a different way of going on, though it is hard to capture just what that is’, as Rae Langton, now professor of philosophy at the University of Cambridge, put it so nicely in 1991.

Once you accept this general intuition, you might begin to wonder how can we capture that different way in which we ought to relate to others. To do this, first we must recognise that, as Langton goes on to write, ‘we don’t simply observe people as we might observe planets, we don’t simply treat them as things to be sought out when they can be of use to us, and avoid when they are a nuisance. We are, as [the British philosopher P F] Strawson says, involved.’

This way of being involved has been played out in many different ways, but here’s the basic thought: being involved is thinking that others’ attitudes and intentions towards us are important in a special way, and that our treatment of others should reflect that importance. We are, each of us, in virtue of being social beings, vulnerable. We depend upon others for our self-esteem and self-respect.

For example, we each think of ourselves as having a variety of more or less stable characteristics, from marginal ones such as being born on a Friday to central ones such as being a philosopher or a spouse. The more central self-descriptions are important to our sense of self-worth, to our self-understanding, and they constitute our sense of identity. When these central self-descriptions are ignored by others in favour of expectations on the basis of our race, gender or sexual orientation, we’re wronged. Perhaps our self-worth shouldn’t be based on something so fragile, but not only are we all-too-human, these self-descriptions also allow us to understand who we are and where we stand in the world.

This thought is echoed in the American sociologist and civil rights activist W E B DuBois’s concept of double consciousness. In The Souls of Black Folk (1903), DuBois notes a common feeling: ‘this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity’.

When you believe that John Hope Franklin must be a staff member rather than a club member, you’ve made predictions of him and observed him in the same way that one might observe the planets. Our private thoughts can wrong other people. When someone forms beliefs about you in this predictive way, they fail to see you, they fail to interact with you as a person. This is not only upsetting. It is a moral failing.

The English philosopher W K Clifford argued in 1877 that we were morally criticisable if our beliefs weren’t formed in the right way. He warned that we have a duty to humanity to never believe on the basis of insufficient evidence because to do so would be to put society at risk. As we look at the world around us and the epistemic crisis in which we find ourselves, we see what happens when Clifford’s imperative is ignored. And if we combine Clifford’s warning with DuBois’s and Langton’s observations, it becomes clear that, for our belief-forming practices, the stakes aren’t just high because we depend on one another for knowledge – the stakes are also high because we depend on one another for respect and dignity.

Consider how upset Arthur Conan Doyle’s characters get with Sherlock Holmes for the beliefs this fictional detective forms about them. Without fail, the people whom Holmes encounters find the way he forms beliefs about others to be insulting. Sometimes it’s because it is a negative belief. Often, however, the belief is mundane: eg, what they ate on the train or which shoe they put on first in the morning. There’s something improper about the way that Holmes relates to other human beings. Holmes’s failure to relate is not just a matter of his actions or his words (though sometimes it is also that), but what really rubs us up the wrong way is that Holmes observes us all as objects to be studied, predicted and managed. He doesn’t relate to us as human beings.

Maybe in an ideal world, what goes on inside our heads wouldn’t matter. But just as the personal is the political, our private thoughts aren’t really only our own. If a man believes of every woman he meets: ‘She’s someone I can sleep with,’ it’s no excuse that he never acts on the belief or reveals the belief to others. He has objectified her and failed to relate to her as a human being, and he has done so in a world in which women are routinely objectified and made to feel less-than.

This kind of indifference to the effect one has on others is morally criticisable. It has always struck me as odd that everyone grants that our actions and words are apt for moral critique, but once we enter the realm of thought we’re off the hook. Our beliefs about others matter. We care what others think of us.

When we mistake a person of colour for a staff member, that challenges this person’s central self-descriptions, the descriptions from which he draws his sense of self-worth. This is not to say that there is anything wrong with being a staff member, but if your reason for thinking that someone is staff is tied not only to something he has no control over (his skin colour) but also to a history of oppression (being denied access to more prestigious forms of employment), then that should give you pause.

The facts might not be racist, but the facts that we often rely on can be the result of racism, including racist institutions and policies. So when forming beliefs using evidence that is a result of racist history, we are accountable for failing to show more care and for believing so easily that someone is a staff member. Precisely what is owed can vary along a number of dimensions, but nonetheless we can recognise that some extra care with our beliefs is owed along these lines. We owe each other not only better actions and better words, but also better thoughts.

Rima Basu is an assistant professor of philosophy at Claremont McKenna College in California. Her work has been published in Philosophical Studies, among others.

This article was originally published at Aeon and has been republished under Creative Commons. Read the original article here.

How do we Pry Apart the True and Compelling from the False and Toxic?

Posted on April 23, 2019 by antilogicalism under Culture, Ethics, Philosophy, Politics, Psychology, Shared

Stack of CPU’s. Shawn Stutzman, Pexels

David V Johnson | Aeon Ideas

When false and malicious speech roils the body politic, when racism and violence surge, the right and role of freedom of speech in society comes into crisis. People rightly begin to wonder what are the limits, what should be the rules. It is a complicated issue, and resolving it requires care about the exact problems targeted and solutions proposed. Otherwise the risk to free speech is real.

Propaganda from Russian-funded troll farms (boosted by Facebook data breaches) might have contributed to the United Kingdom’s vote to exit the European Union and aided the United States’ election of Donald Trump as president. Conspiracy theories spread by alternative news outlets or over social media sometimes lead to outbreaks of violence. Politicians exploit the mainstream news media’s commitment to balance, to covering newsworthy public statements and their need for viewers or readers by making baseless, sensational claims.

In On Liberty (1859), John Stuart Mill offers the most compelling defence of freedom of speech, conscience and autonomy ever written. Mill argues that the only reason to restrict speech is to prevent harm to others, such as with hate speech and incitement to violence. Otherwise, all speech must be protected. Even if we know a view is false, Mill says, it is wrong to suppress it. We avoid prejudice and dogmatism, and achieve understanding, through freely discussing and defending what we believe against contrary claims.

Today, a growing number of people see these views as naive. Mill’s arguments are better suited to those who still believe in the open marketplace of ideas, where free and rational debate is the best way to settle all disputes about truth and falsity. Who could possibly believe we live in such a world anymore? Instead, what we have is a Wild West of partisanship and manipulation, where social media gurus exploit research in behavioural psychology to compel users to affirm and echo absurd claims. We have a world where people live in cognitive bubbles of the like-minded and share one another’s biases and prejudices. According to this savvy view, our brave new world is too prone to propaganda and conspiracy-mongering to rely on Mill’s optimism about free speech. To do so is to risk abetting the rise of fascist and absolutist tendencies.

In his book How Fascism Works (2018), the American philosopher Jason Stanley cites the Russian television network RT, which presents all sorts of misleading and slanted views. If Mill is right, claims Stanley, then RT and such propaganda outfits ‘should be the paradigm of knowledge production’ because they force us to scrutinise their claims. But this is a reductio ad absurdum of Mill’s argument. Similarly, Alexis Papazoglou in The New Republic questions whether Nick Clegg, the former British deputy prime minister turned Facebook’s new vice president of global affairs and communication, will be led astray by his appreciation of Mill’s On Liberty. ‘Mill seemed to believe that an open, free debate meant the truth would usually prevail, whereas under censorship, truth could end up being accidentally suppressed, along with falsehood,’ writes Papazoglou. ‘It’s a view that seems a bit archaic in the age of an online marketplace of memes and clickbait, where false stories tend to spread faster and wider than their true counterpoints.’

When important and false beliefs and theories gain traction in public conversation, Mill’s protection of speech can be frustrating. But there is nothing new about ‘fake news’, whether in Mill’s age of sensationalist newspapers or in our age of digital media. Nonetheless to seek a solution in restricting speech is foolish and counterproductive – it lends credibility to the illiberal forces you, paradoxically, seek to silence. It also betrays an elitism about engaging with those of different opinions and a cynicism about affording your fellow citizens the freedom to muddle through the morass on their own. If we want to live in a liberal democratic society, rational engagement is the only solution on offer. Rather than restricting speech, we should look to supplement Mill’s view with effective tools for dealing with bad actors and with beliefs that, although false, seem compelling to some.

Fake news and propaganda are certainly problems, as they were in Mill’s day, but the problems they raise are more serious than the falsity of their claims. After all, they are not unique in saying false things, as the latest newspaper corrections will tell you. More importantly, they involve bad actors: people and organisations who intentionally pass off false views as the truth, and hide their nature and motives. (Think Russian troll farms.) Anyone who knows that they are dealing with bad actors – people trying to mislead – ignores them, and justifiably so. It’s not worth your time to consider the claim of someone you know is trying to deceive you.

There is nothing in Mill that demands that we engage any and all false views. After all, there are too many out there and so people have to be selective. Transparency is key, helping people know with whom, or what, they are dealing. Transparency helps filter out noise and fosters accountability, so that bad actors – those who hide their identity for the purpose of misleading others – are eliminated.

Mill’s critics fail to see the truth that is mixed in with the false views that they wish to restrict, and that makes those views compelling. RT, for instance, has covered many issues, such as the US financial crisis, economic inequality and imperialism more accurately than mainstream news channels. RT also includes informed sources who are ignored by other outlets. The channel might be biased toward demeaning the US and fomenting division, but it often pursues this agenda by speaking truths that are not covered in mainstream US media. Informed news-watchers know to view RT and all news sources with skepticism, and there is no reason not to extend the same respect to the entire viewing public, unless you presume you are a better judge of what to believe than your fellow citizens.

Mill rightly thought that the typical case wasn’t one of views that are false, but views that have a mixture of true and false. It would be far more effective to try to engage with the truth in views we despise than to try to ban them for their alleged falsity. The Canadian psychologist and YouTube sensation Jordan Peterson, for example, says things that are false, misogynistic and illiberal, but one possible reason for his following is that he recognises and speaks to a deficit of meaning and values in many young men’s lives. Here, the right approach is to pry apart the true and compelling from the false and toxic, through reasoned consideration. This way, following Mill’s path, presents a better chance of winning over those who are lost to views we despise. It also helps us improve our own understanding, as Mill wisely suggests.

David V Johnson

This article was originally published at Aeon and has been republished under Creative Commons. Read the original article here.

Ibn Tufayl and the Story of the Feral Child of Philosophy

Posted on March 26, 2019 by antilogicalism under Philosophy, Politics, Psychology, Religion, Shared

Album folio fragment with scholar in a garden. Attributed to Muhammad Ali 1610-15. Courtesy Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

Marwa Elshakry & Murad Idris | Aeon Ideas

Ibn Tufayl, a 12th-century Andalusian, fashioned the feral child in philosophy. His story Hayy ibn Yaqzan is the tale of a child raised by a doe on an unnamed Indian Ocean island. Hayy ibn Yaqzan (literally ‘Living Son of Awakeness’) reaches a state of perfect, ecstatic understanding of the world. A meditation on the possibilities (and pitfalls) of the quest for the good life, Hayy offers not one, but two ‘utopias’: a eutopia (εὖ ‘good’, τόπος ‘place’) of the mind in perfect isolation, and an ethical community under the rule of law. Each has a version of human happiness. Ibn Tufayl pits them against each other, but each unfolds ‘no where’ (οὐ ‘not’, τόπος ‘place’) in the world.

Ibn Tufayl begins with a vision of humanity isolated from society and politics. (Modern European political theorists who employed this literary device called it ‘the state of nature’.) He introduces Hayy by speculating about his origin. Whether Hayy was placed in a basket by his mother to sail through the waters of life (like Moses) or born by spontaneous generation on the island is irrelevant, Ibn Tufayl says. His divine station remains the same, as does much of his life, spent in the company only of animals. Later philosophers held that society elevates humanity from its natural animal state to an advanced, civilised one. Ibn Tufayl took a different view. He maintained that humans can be perfected only outside society, through a progress of the soul, not the species.

In contrast to Thomas Hobbes’s view that ‘man is a wolf to man’, Hayy’s island has no wolves. It proves easy enough for him to fend off other creatures by waving sticks at them or donning terrifying costumes of hides and feathers. For Hobbes, the fear of violent death is the origin of the social contract and the apologia for the state; but Hayy’s first encounter with fear of death is when his doe-mother dies. Desperate to revive her, Hayy dissects her heart only to find one of its chambers is empty. The coroner-turned-theologian concludes that what he loved in his mother no longer resides in her body. Death therefore was the first lesson of metaphysics, not politics.

Hayy then observes the island’s plants and animals. He meditates upon the idea of an elemental, ‘vital spirit’ upon discovering fire. Pondering the plurality of matter leads him to conclude that it must originate from a singular, non-corporeal source or First Cause. He notes the perfect motion of the celestial spheres and begins a series of ascetic exercises (such as spinning until dizzy) to emulate this hidden, universal order. By the age of 50, he retreats from the physical world, meditating in his cave until, finally, he attains a state of ecstatic illumination. Reason, for Ibn Tufayl, is thus no absolute guide to Truth.

The difference between Hayy’s ecstatic journeys of the mind and later rationalist political thought is the role of reason. Yet many later modern European commentaries or translations of Hayy confuse this by framing the allegory in terms of reason. In 1671, Edward Pococke entitled his Latin translation The Self-Taught Philosopher: In Which It Is Demonstrated How Human Reason Can Ascend from Contemplation of the Inferior to Knowledge of the Superior. In 1708, Simon Ockley’s English translation was The Improvement of Human Reason, and it too emphasised reason’s capacity to attain ‘knowledge of God’. For Ibn Tufayl, however, true knowledge of God and the world – as a eutopia for the ‘mind’ (or soul) – could come only through perfect contemplative intuition, not absolute rational thought.

This is Ibn Tufayl’s first utopia: an uninhabited island where a feral philosopher retreats to a cave to reach ecstasy through contemplation and withdrawal from the world. Friedrich Nietzsche’s Zarathustra would be impressed: ‘Flee, my friend, into your solitude!’

The rest of the allegory introduces the problem of communal life and a second utopia. After Hayy achieves his perfect condition, an ascetic is shipwrecked on his island. Hayy is surprised to discover another being who so resembles him. Curiosity leads him to befriend the wanderer, Absal. Absal teaches Hayy language, and describes the mores of his own island’s law-abiding people. The two men determine that the islanders’ religion is a lesser version of the Truth that Hayy discovered, shrouded in symbols and parables. Hayy is driven by compassion to teach them the Truth. They travel to Absal’s home.

The encounter is disastrous. Absal’s islanders feel compelled by their ethical principles of hospitality towards foreigners, friendship with Absal, and association with all people to welcome Hayy. But soon Hayy’s constant attempts to preach irritate them. Hayy realises that they are incapable of understanding. They are driven by satisfactions of the body, not the mind. There can be no perfect society because not everyone can achieve a state of perfection in their soul. Illumination is possible only for the select, in accordance with a sacred order, or a hieros archein. (This hierarchy of being and knowing is a fundamental message of neo-Platonism.) Hayy concludes that persuading people away from their ‘natural’ stations would only corrupt them further. The laws that the ‘masses’ venerate, be they revealed or reasoned, he decides, are their only chance to achieve a good life.

The islanders’ ideals – lawfulness, hospitality, friendship, association – might seem reasonable, but these too exist ‘no where’ in the world. Hence their dilemma: either they adhere to these and endure Hayy’s criticisms, or violate them by shunning him. This is a radical critique of the law and its ethical principles: they are normatively necessary for social life yet inherently contradictory and impossible. It’s a sly reproach of political life, one whose bite endures. Like the islanders, we follow principles that can undermine themselves. To be hospitable, we must be open to the stranger who violates hospitality. To be democratic, we must include those who are antidemocratic. To be worldly, our encounters with other people must be opportunities to learn from them, not just about them.

In the end, Hayy returns to his island with Absal, where they enjoy a life of ecstatic contemplation unto death. They abandon the search for a perfect society of laws. Their eutopia is the quest of the mind left unto itself, beyond the imperfections of language, law and ethics – perhaps beyond even life itself.

The islanders offer a less obvious lesson: our ideals and principles undermine themselves, but this is itself necessary for political life. For an island of pure ethics and law is an impossible utopia. Perhaps, like Ibn Tufayl, all we can say on the search for happiness is (quoting Al-Ghazali):

It was – what it was is harder to say.
Think the best, but don’t make me describe it away.

After all, we don’t know what happened to Hayy and Absal after their deaths – or to the islanders after they left.

Marwa Elshakry & Murad Idris

This article was originally published at Aeon and has been republished under Creative Commons. Read the original article here.

Climate Strikes: Researcher explains how Young People can Keep up the Momentum

Posted on March 24, 2019 by antilogicalism under Ethics, Politics, Science, Shared

Harriet Thew, University of Leeds

As part of one of the largest environmental protests ever seen, over a million young people went on strike on Friday March 15 2019, calling for more ambitious action on climate change. Inspired by Greta Thunberg, a Swedish school girl who protested outside the Swedish parliament every Friday throughout 2018, young people in over 100 countries left their classrooms and took to the streets.

The previous #YouthStrike4Climate on February 15 2019 mobilised over 10,000 young people in over 40 locations in the UK alone. Their marches, chants and signs captured attention and prompted debates regarding the motivations and methods of young strikers. Many were criticised by those in the government and the media for simply wanting an opportunity to miss school.

My PhD research explores youth participation in climate change governance, focusing on the UN climate negotiations. Between 2015 and 2018 I closely studied the Youth Climate Coalition (UKYCC) – a UK based, voluntary, youth-led group of 18 to 29 year olds – which attends the international negotiations and coordinates local and national climate change campaigns.

My research shows that young people are mobilised by concern for people and wildlife, fears for the future and anger that climate action is neither sufficiently rapid nor ambitious. Young people need to feel as though they are “doing something” about climate change while politicians dither and scientists release increasingly alarming projections of future climate conditions.

The strikes have helped young activists find like-minded peers and new opportunities to engage. They articulate a collective youth voice, wielding the moral power of young people – a group which society agrees it is supposed to protect. All the same, there are threats to sustaining the movement’s momentum which need to be recognised now.

Challenge misplaced paternalism

The paternalism that gives youth a moral platform is a double-edged sword. Patronising responses from adults in positions of authority, from head teachers to the prime minister, dismiss their scientifically informed concerns and attack the messenger, rather than dealing with the message itself.

You’re too young to understand the complexity of this.

You’ll grow out of these beliefs.

You just want to skip school.

Stay in school and wait your turn to make a difference.

Striking may hurt your future job prospects.

The list goes on …

This frightens some children and young people into silence, but doesn’t address the factors which mobilised them in the first place. These threats are also largely unfounded.

To any young person reading this, I want to reassure you, as a university educator, that critical thinking, proactivity and an interest in current affairs are qualities that universities encourage. Over 200 academics signed this open letter – myself included – showing our support for the school strikes.

Don’t ‘grow up’

Growing up is inevitable, but it can cause problems for youth movements. As young people gain experience of climate action and expand their professional networks, they “grow out of” being able to represent youth, often getting jobs to advocate for other groups or causes. While this can be positive for individuals, institutional memory is lost when experienced advocates move on to do other things. This puts youth at a disadvantage in relation to other groups who are better resourced and don’t have a “time limit” in how long they can represent their cause.

Well-established youth organisations, such as Guides and Scouts, whom I have worked with in the past, can use their large networks and professional experience to sustain youth advocacy on climate change, though they lack the resources to do so alone. It would also help for other campaigners to show solidarity with the young strikers, and to recognise youth as an important group in climate change debates. This will give people more opportunity to keep supporting the youth climate movement as they get older.

Grow the climate justice movement

Researching the same group of young people for three years, I have identified a shift in their attitudes over time. As young participants become more involved in the movement, they encounter different types of injustices voiced by other groups. They hear activists sharing stories of the devastating climate impacts already experienced by communities, in places where sea level rise is inundating homes and droughts are killing livestock and causing starvation.

The climate justice movement emphasises how climate change exacerbates racial and economic inequality but frequently overlooks the ways these inequalities intersect with age-based disadvantages. Forgetting that frontline communities contain young people, youth movements in developed countries like the UK begin to question the validity of their intergenerational injustice claims.

Many feel ashamed for having claimed vulnerability, given their relatively privileged position. Over time, they lose faith in their right to be heard. It would strengthen the entire climate movement if other climate justice campaigners more vocally acknowledged young people as a vulnerable group and shared their platform so that these important voices could better amplify one another.

With my own platform, I would like to say this to the thousands who went on strike. You matter. You have a right to be heard and you shouldn’t be embarrassed to speak out. Have confidence in your message, engage with others but stay true to your principles. Stick together and remember that even when you leave school and enter work – you’re never too old to be a youth advocate.

Click here to subscribe to our climate action newsletter. Climate change is inevitable. Our response to it isn’t.

Harriet Thew, PhD Researcher in Climate Change Governance, University of Leeds

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Antilogicalism

The Starry Sky Above and the Moral Life Within

Category Archives: Politics

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Ibn Tufayl and the Story of the Feral Child of Philosophy

Marwa Elshakry & Murad Idris | Aeon Ideas

Climate Strikes: Researcher explains how Young People can Keep up the Momentum

Harriet Thew, University of Leeds

Challenge misplaced paternalism

Don’t ‘grow up’

Grow the climate justice movement