Scholarship and the Future of Society

    Historians like to say that correlation is not the same as causation. But evidence of correlation is often the starting point for an inquiry into causation. Here is one such inquiry: How might the loss of humanistic thinking generally, and historical thinking specifically, be connected to the current dysfunction of American politics and to the erosion of America’s position in the world?

    In asking this question, I do not mean to suggest that the loss of humanistic and historical thinking is the only cause, or even most important one; clearly there are many causes. Some very important ones relate to form or structure, such as closed primaries and gerrymandering. But a quasi-mechanistic diagnosis of what ails the United States is inadequate. Something even more fundamental has gone wrong — a sickness of the soul, not just a sickness of the body. A sickness of the body calls for the sciences. A sickness of the soul calls for the humanities. The difficulty is that the humanities, as currently constituted, are in no position to provide a remedy, having themselves contributed to the illness in the first place.

    Properly understood, the scholarly humanities have both substantive and procedural commitments, which feed each other. The substantive commitment is that human beings are worth trying to understand in all their diversity and complexity. The procedural commitment is that there are certain rules, particularly concerning the use of evidence, that one must follow in attempting to understand human beings. These two commitments secure each other: we have rules to ensure that we are trying to understand people on their own terms, because it is so tempting to narcissistically impose our own humanity on others; and we see people in all their complexity because our rules encourage us to do so. The importance of rules is why the scholarly fields are called the scholarly disciplines, and not the scholarly do-whatever-you-wants.

    All the humanities enlarge our understanding of what it means to be human, but only the study of history does so by tethering that understanding to the largest store of facts (however they are interpreted) about real human behavior that we have, which is the past. This axiomatic realism is what distinguishes history from literature. While the other humanistic disciplines cultivate similar qualities of empathy and imagination, only the study of history subjects those qualities to the procedural requirements governing the interpretation of historical evidence. Unlike writers and poets and painters, historians must answer to those requirements: they are obliged to refrain from cherry-picking or inventing evidence, to consider alternative explanations, to test their hypotheses, and so forth, not only for the sake of intellectual rigor but also because we study real people, with no more or less human dignity than we ourselves possess.

    The complex interplay between the study of human beings who lived in the past and the rules governing that study are essential to the formation of a humane sense of self — one bounded by, and bounding, a sense of other selves. The historian and philosopher R. G. Collingwood called this interplay “re-enactment” and saw it as fundamental to self-knowledge and to the knowledge of others. From his perspective, re-enactment involves a delicate balancing act between self-surrender and self-assertion, passivity and activity, altruism and narcissism. On the one hand, it requires trying to set one’s own ego aside in order to see the world through someone else’s eyes. On the other hand, the only way to translate, or make sense of, someone else’s life experience is in the context of one’s own. This attempt at sense-making is active, not passive: the historian re-enacting another’s knowledge “criticizes it, forms his own judgement of its value, corrects whatever errors he can discern in it.” Hence, Collingwood reasoned, “it may thus be said that historical inquiry reveals to the historian the powers of his own mind.” Since people can gain these forms of self-knowledge and knowledge of others only through the historical method, it is as vital in the present as it is for the past: “If it is by historical thinking that we re-think and so rediscover the thought of Hammurabi or Solon, it is in the same way that we discover the thought of a friend who writes us a letter, or a stranger who crosses the street.” People who cannot think historically, in other words, are cut off from their own humanity and that of others, cut off from Milton’s “human face divine.”

    Much as historical thinking nurtures inter-subjective humility, so it nurtures inter-generational humility. If “re-enactment” of another’s experiences is how we establish our sense of self in space, then it is also how we establish our sense of self in time. The historian William Appleman Williams beautifully connected the methods of the historical discipline to its inter-generational substance:

    The method of history is neither to by-pass and dismiss nor to pick and choose according to preconceived notions; rather it is a study of the past so that we can come back into our own time of troubles having shared with the men of the past their dilemmas, having learned from the experiences, having been buoyed up by their courage and creativeness and sobered by their shortsightedness and failures. We shall then be better equipped to redefine our own dilemmas and problems as opportunities and possibilities and to proceed with positive rather than negative programs and policies. This enrichment and improvement through research and reflection is the essence of being human, and it is the heart of the historical method.

    Practicing the historical method cultivates, or ought to cultivate, a humble sense of our own temporal finitude, and along with it a sense of inter-generational stewardship. In effect, it extends the golden rule through time: do unto past generations as you would like future generations to do unto you. By treating past generations as subjects to be understood, rather than as objects to be manipulated for contemporary advantage, the present generation stakes its moral claim to be treated with the same respect by future generations.

    Indeed, one way to convey the social, cultural, and political stakes of the scholarly humanities is to say that they secularize the moral and epistemological dilemma at the heart of the Christian doctrine of original sin. The dilemma consists of being unable to have knowledge — of self and of goodness — without disunion from God and each other, and of being unable to be self-knowing and good without union with God and each other. This is the great theme of Genesis and of its finest exegesis, Milton’s Paradise Lost. Until Adam and Eve eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they live in perfect union with God and with each other, and their bliss is ignorance. God himself creates the possibility of disunity by giving them free will, because He understands that unity without freedom lacks faith and goodness (“Not free, what proof could they have giv’n sincere / of true allegiance, constant faith or love, / Where only what they needs must do, appeared, / Not what they would?”). Total unity is, in a sense, totalitarian. Adam’s and Eve’s decision to eat from the tree constitutes the first act of human freedom and the origins of knowledge — of good as different from evil, of humanity as different from God, of human beings as different from each other. In Paradise Lost, it also constitutes the beginning of history, which will end at the time of the Second Coming, when Milton’s God (as in 1 Corinthians 15:28) will once again be “All in All” — a state of perfect unity.

    During this period of history, humankind exists in a state of epistemological and moral dilemma. We cannot know ourselves without having a sense of otherness, but a sense of otherness easily transmutes into a sense of self-inadequacy (self-abnegation) or justifies a sense of self-superiority (narcissism). As Reinhold Niebuhr put it,

    Self-consciousness means the recognition of finiteness within infinity. The mind recognizes the ego as an insignificant point amidst the immensities of the world. In all vital self-consciousness there is a note of protest against this finiteness. It may express itself in religion by the desire to be absorbed in infinitude. On the secular level it expresses itself in man’s effort to universalize himself and give his life a significance beyond himself. The root of imperialism is therefore in all self-consciousness. 

    Here is expressed the basic dilemma of historical re-enactment identified by Collingwood. Historians can enlarge their self-knowledge only by acquiring knowledge of others. But that attempt to understand others easily transmutes into a loss of sense of self, whereby one becomes subsumed into the infinitude of evidence (and never publishes), or into a tyrannical sense of self, whereby one imposes one’s own selfhood on others (by cherry-picking evidence in support of one’s preferred thesis). The same dilemma exists across time as well as space. Historians can become so absorbed in the past that they cannot translate it to the present (antiquarianism), or they can become so dominated by the present that they refuse to try to understand the past on its own terms (presentism). Historical re-enactment is thus a constant toggling between what Martin Buber called “I-thou” relationships and “I-it” relationships, between empathizing with others as subjects through unity with their consciousness and studying them as objects through disunity with their consciousness.

    By accustoming people to live with this dilemma, the scholarly humanities tend to inoculate against humanity’s worst scourges: the perennial false promise of ideological absolutism, and the distinctively modern false promise of technocratic optimization. Both of these are forms of anti-politics, to borrow David Bell’s term in these pages, pretending to offer an escape from the world of dilemma, which is to say from the world of liberal-democratic politics — the world of compromise, of messiness, of choosing between bad and worse options rather than between good and bad options. Like Christian humanism, secular humanism teaches that the acceptance of dilemma is humane, while attempts to escape it lead to gross inhumanity. The similarities go farther still. Both Christian and secular humanism seek goodness rather than perfection, because both understand that perfection belongs to an inhuman realm, and thus that any human quest for perfection is hubristic. Both are anti-utopian. Both have a sense of limits, especially of self-limitation, as an ethical imperative, so as to honor the humanity of others and acknowledge the imperfections of one’s own. Both accept the impossibility of fully straightening out humankind’s crooked timber; both see that attempts to do so must lead to great evil. Both have a conservative streak, which does not prevent them from pursuing progress but does make them sensitive to its imperfections and downsides.

    Both also involve living with doubt about how well or badly one is doing as measured against a sense of the absolute, which is how Niebuhr defined religion. In Christianity, the absolute is God; in the scholarly humanities, the absolute is what Donne called “that library where every book shall lie open to one another.” For Donne, God, and only God, was the perfect scholar, whose hand was capable of translating the chapters of human life into a better language and re-binding the leaves that scattered with original sin. But Donne encouraged the pursuit of scholarship by heeding the message of the tolling bell, which calls us to read as many chapters of humanity as we can in our fallen state. Partial failure is guaranteed. Thus scholars who hear the tolling bell feel both a sense of the absolute and a sense of doubt about their proximity to it.

    Humanistic proceduralism, the imperative of method, which has the moral force of the biblical commandments, exists to calibrate scholars’ doubt. On the one hand, following procedure gives scholars confidence in the integrity of their work. On the other hand, following procedure prevents this confidence from transmuting into arrogance, a false belief in the definitiveness of their work. Procedure forces humanists to slow down, to be attentive to the complexity of evidence that narcissists, imperialists, and tyrants try to over-simplify. Scholars submit to the discipline of procedure, even — especially — when they would rather rush into print, in order to ensure that they treat their subjects as real people to be understood and explained, not as abstract projections of their own egos to be praised or blamed.

    This scholarly practice is also a political one. Understanding its politics is critical to defending liberalism against its opponents.

    The most common scholarly analogy for liberalism is science, and understandably, given that its historical instantiations have tended to believe in the scientistic trinity of rationalism, technology, and progress. In its scientific mode, liberalism is apt to be experienced as cold, lonely, and alienating. It lacks a sense of connection to other human beings as thinking, feeling creatures. But liberalism also has a humanistic mode, which cultivates empathy where scientific liberalism does not. Empathy need not lead to feelings of warmth — it can lead to revulsion, as indeed it sometimes should — but it is a precondition for friendship and love. How can any human union — marital, national, or otherwise — survive without friendship and love, without re-enacting at human scale what the religious mind understands as the communion between God and man?

    The strongest humanistic scholarship supplies the strongest possible basis for mutual understanding, and therefore for the strongest secular unions. Those bonds are humanistic bonds. In a wonderful essay in these pages, Michael Ignatieff correctly observed that rigorous scholarship, whether humanistic or scientific, has an “intransigently solitary” quality that places it “in radical contradiction” with “the ethos that liberal democracy encourages — civility, deliberation, compromise.” But as he himself notes, rigorous scholarship also “demands a difficult kind of honesty, a willingness to concede defeat when the evidence is against you, and enough resilience to resume the search for the answer that still eludes you.” Given that “the evidence” in the humanities consists of other human beings, scholarship has a profoundly social as well as solitary (or anti-social) quality. The willingness to concede when the human evidence gathered by the scholarly process fails to provide the outcome one wants — this is the essence of liberal democracy. If following the rules doesn’t get you the result you want, you don’t get to change the rules.

    Like liberal democracy, humanism, whether religious or scholarly, balances rights and obligations, self-assertion and self-restraint. The “post-liberals” on the right today err by reducing liberalism to the former and ignoring the latter. Liberalism evolved its balance of rights and restraints in reaction against the violence caused by political and religious absolutism. Liberalism diagnosed this violence as stemming, in a sense, from narcissism — from the monarchical or religious ego run imperialistically amok, as concerned with its own rights as it was unconcerned with anyone else’s. Liberalism did not oppose religion per se — if it did, it would not protect religious liberty alongside other liberties — but rather a particular kind of religiosity, one whose anti-humanism and inhumaneness made its earthly as well as heavenly ambitions totalitarian. Liberalism’s conceptualization of the rights-bearing individual as the proper locus of political order was indeed a major innovation, but so, too, was its insight that nothing, not even religion or kingship, licensed the abrogation of individual rights. All people, religious or otherwise, however convinced of their own righteousness, were obliged to limit the pursuit of their own perceived rights within the bounds of non-conflict with others’ rights.

    Liberalism thus evolved as an antidote to authoritarian libertinism, not as a license to it, contra the post-liberals. Its innovation of the rights-bearing individual was necessarily accompanied by the innovation of the obligations-bearing individual. The bearer is individual, but the obligations are communal. This dual innovation so closely mimics the logic of Christian humanism as to call into question whether it was any more an Enlightenment innovation, which is how some of its defenders as well as its opponents understand it, than a religious bequest. In effect, liberal democracy, like scholarly humanism, has the functional equivalent of the doctrine of original sin.

    This functionally religious logic helps to explain why liberal democracy attracts opposition not only from religious absolutists but also from neo-Nietzscheans, with whom the religionists sometimes make strange bedfellows. If liberal democracy had no restraints, if it were truly a system of libertinism and licentiousness, neo-Nietzscheans would have nothing to complain about. They could pursue meaning and authenticity however they wished; they could be supermen, and beyond good and evil. But liberal democracy does not permit them to do so. It demands that they, like everyone else, balance their self-assertion with their self-restraint.

    Historically, liberal conceptions of self-restraint have extended from the political to the sexual realm, and this extension helps to explain why the counter-reaction to liberalism so often focuses on gender and sexuality. A defining characteristic of the premier liberals of the nineteenth century, the Victorians, was their ethic of sexual self-restraint (which disappears in post-liberals’ account of liberalism as libertine). This ethic had a strong norm, however honored in the breach, against men having sex outside of marriage; it sought to domesticate testosterone, so to speak, and thus can be seen as feminizing. Unsurprisingly, some particularly trenchant critics of liberalism have been men — such as Nietzsche, Foucault, and Costin Alamariu (a.k.a. “Bronze Age Pervert,” a prominent thinker on the “new right”) — whose sexuality has not conformed to Victorian norms.

    These men, whose politics do not fall neatly on a left-right spectrum, take liberalism’s bourgeois sexual repressiveness as a metaphor for liberalism as a whole. For them, liberalism is simply a mask for power, one that in some profound sense alienates humanity from itself. The queer theory of Foucault’s disciples, the gay aestheticism of Diaghilev, and fascism’s “aestheticization of politics” (to borrow Modris Eksteins’ borrowing of Walter Benjamin) all owe an intellectual debt to this neo-Nietzschean tradition. Wokeness is the political project associated with the intellectual tradition of queer theory, a branch of critical theory; fascism is the political project associated with that of Nietzscheanism. Although the historical instantiation that dominates our image of fascism — Nazism — was deeply homophobic, fascism need not be; indeed the homo-sociality of the trench spirit that the Nazis sought to recreate, as well as the homo-eroticism of Nazi art, reflect the neo-Nietzschean influence. Fascism may be understood as a toxically masculine response to what fascists regard as the toxic femininity of liberalism.

    The point here is not that reading Foucault makes you woke or reading Nietzsche makes you a fascist, any more than reading Marx makes you a communist. The intellectual traditions of critical theory, Nietzscheanism, and Marxism are complex; reading in them can deepen and enrich one’s commitment to liberal democracy no less than overturn it. The political projects with which these traditions have historically been associated cannot be reduced to them.

    But that said, these traditions lend themselves to certain political projects. What unites woke queer theorists and fascist neo-Nietzscheans with post-liberal religious believers is a shared opposition to liberal-democratic humanism. Woke queer theorists don’t like that this tradition has restraints. Fascists and post-liberals don’t like that the restraints in this tradition operate against them. Gay fascists and post-liberals may split over the question of homosexuality, but they share an anti-feminism, rooted in their sense of liberalism as excessively feminized. All of these people — woke queer theorists, fascists, and post-liberals — have given up on working out norms around gender and sexuality, or around anything else, that comport with liberal-democratic humanism, as if decency lies elsewhere or nowhere at all.

    Viewing this formidable array of opponents to liberal-democratic humanism, you might think that the scholarly humanities, and especially historians, would rally to the defense of their finest traditions, demanding maximal procedural rigor in the pursuit of substantive excellence. You would, of course, be wrong.

    The scholarly humanities have momentously decided to join, rather than to try to beat, the forces arrayed against liberal-democratic humanism. As the rhetoric of war against internal enemies has suffused the new right, the humanities have declined to treat their allergy to the study of war and foolishly ceded military history and its larger implications to parochial clique. Instead of fighting under the sign of Clausewitz, whose understanding of war as the continuation of politics by other means expressed his profound humanism, they have chosen instead to fight under the sign of Foucault, whose inversion of the Clausewitzian dictum reflected his equally profound anti-humanism. The Foucauldian inversion — that politics is the continuation of war by other means — is an anti-politics. It replaces the argument, persuasion, negotiation, compromise, and tolerance at the heart of liberal-democratic politics with a brute struggle for power. It is as though ostensible humanists have decided to try to fight what they regard as fascism on fascism’s own terms. For people who see themselves as beleaguered resistance fighters, symmetrical warfare is a strange strategic choice — though a more rational one for those who occupy a strong position on the commanding heights of culture.

    Wokeness is the most remarked-upon result of this strategy, but it is much more symptom than disease. It could not have ravaged the body humanistic if it had encountered a stronger immune system, one with a greater commitment to scholarly process. Key tenets of wokeness, which draws on multiple branches of critical theory — including both queer theory and critical race theory — are inconsistent with each other and cannot withstand scrutiny. Race, for instance, which has virtually no biological basis, is radically essentialized (trans-racialism is therefore impossible), while gender, which has a stronger claim to a biological basis however mediated by culture, is radically de-essentialized (trans-genderism is therefore a matter of self-identification). But humanists either cannot see these inconsistencies or will not point them out. A collapse of humanistic standards and an epidemic of moral cowardice made wokeness in academia possible, not vice-versa — much as anti-humanism and moral cowardice in the Republican Party made Donald Trump possible. That collapse has deep roots.

    Like Trumpism, wokeness is not infrequently compared to a religious cult, and with reason — but if wokeness is a religion, then it is one with a distinctive understanding of the relationship between the human and the divine, of original sin, and of the place of doubt in faith. The Church of Wokeness has no notion of all human beings having been made in God’s image. There is no common humanity to hold us all together; there is only a relentlessly atomizing impulse to discover our own uniqueness, or the bulldozing of individuality by sub-group identities. Hence the Church of Wokeness does not understand original sin to afflict all human beings qua human beings, but only those belonging to particular groups. For those in the wrong identity groups, there is no hope of divine grace or of humanistic self-transcendence through inter-subjective understanding; there is only the purchase of indulgences from the high priests of DEI. Thus indoctrinated, members of the Church of Wokeness oscillate wildly between the two extremes that humanism navigates: on the one hand, absolute certainty in their own virtue; on the other hand, self-abnegating certainty in the impossibility of grace. If the Church of the Humanities had been stronger, it would have denounced the Church of Wokeness as a breakaway sect, but its own faith had grown so weak that it could not recognize the sectarianism.

    The historical profession has participated in, perhaps even led, the humanities’ turn away from the liberal-democratic politics of scholarly humanism. Its alternative politics can be understood as illiberal politics or as anti-politics, which are functionally similar. On the one hand, the historical profession today indulges in narcissistic, imperialistic presentism, replacing an “I-thou” relationship between the present and past with an “I-it” relationship. A good example of this tendency may be found in one of the statements by the American Historical Association (AHA), prompted by the controversy over the 1619 Project, in which the AHA declared that “knowledge of the past exists to serve the needs of the living.” On the other hand, the historical profession invokes its technocratic credentials to deny that it is behaving politically, while adopting a militaristic bunker mentality of being under attack by outside forces. The bunker mentality in turn justifies an ever greater reluctance to find enemies to the left and ever more intellectually dishonest recourse to the camouflage of technocracy. A good example of this tendency appeared in the previous sentence of the same AHA statement, which declared that “educators must provide an accurate view of the past” and that “professional educators,” not “elected officials,” should decide what constitutes accuracy. There is a certain tension, shall we say, between those two sentences.

    That tension points to the flaws in the prevailing understanding of the role of critical theory in the culture wars. Contra the right, critical theory is not the problem with wokeness, at least not in any straightforward way. In fact, the problem could just as easily be described as an absence of critical theory: people who reflexively invoke their disciplinary credentials (“follow the PhDs!”) to defend against attacks from populists are not people who take Foucault’s defense of subjugated knowledges as seriously as they claim. Indeed, the anti-Foucauldian behavior of the woke left in academia (and other sense-making institutions) is why so many on the right have turned to critical theory to attack wokeness. For instance, concepts put forward by thinkers on the new right — for instance, the “Cathedral” of Curtis Yarvin (a.k.a. Mencius Moldbug) and the “Iron Prison” of Alamariu, which describe a distributed set of disciplinary technocratic institutions — are Foucauldian to their core. Sometimes critics of wokeness on the right honestly acknowledge their debt to critical theory, like those White House advisors to Trump who, as Geoff Shullenberger has shown, did graduate work on the subject. At other times, these critics plagiarize, à la Ron DeSantis, denouncing critical theory even as they draw on its insights into the working of informal cultural, as distinct from formal political, power. The woke left does not call out this plagiarism, despite its crocodile tears over right-wing violations of scholarly standards, because the appearance of total polarity serves its interests no less than those of the MAGA movement. The fundamental problem with wokeness in academia is not that it is left-wing, but that it is anti-scholarly

    All the pathologies of the woke turn — or rather the anti-scholarly turn — in the humanities were on display in l’affaire James Sweet. To recap: in August 2022, Sweet, the president of the AHA and a historian of slavery, used his monthly column in the AHA’s newsletter to suggest, by way of analyzing contemporary public debates over the history of slavery, that the profession’s rampant presentism might not serve its long-term interests or honor its fiduciary obligations to the public. His energetic attempts to bend over backwards so as to avoid offending his woke colleagues made his column rather milquetoast but, predictably, his exaggerated sensitivities availed him not at all, and the usual mob reaction ensued. On “academic Twitter” (a contradiction in terms), he was accused of being racist, of hurting his black colleagues, and of carrying water for the right. Within forty-eight hours he issued an apology, which he insists did not constitute a retraction. (He smoked but he didn’t inhale.) Sweet’s sin, in the eyes of his critics, was that he had broken faith with wokeness. MAGA has its RINOs (Republican in Name Only); wokeness has its WINOs (Woke in Name Only). Religions don’t like heretics, but they hate apostates, who, unlike heretics, do not have the excuse of never having known any better. The Sweet affair demonstrated the inversion of the substantive and procedural commitments at the heart of historical study. Instead of a virtuous feedback loop between humanism and proceduralism, we now have a vicious feedback loop between anti-humanism and anti-proceduralism. The essential connection between method and tolerance has been erased. This degradation of the humanities is driven by the conviction that our issues today are so much more important than whatever happened in the past that we are justified in turning historical subjects into historical objects — making them playthings of whatever contemporary political, social, or other agenda we seek to advance.

    This behavior is professionally idiotic and civically tragic. When historians and humanists pooh-pooh their almost invariably left-wing violations of scholarly rules as misdemeanors compared to the felonies of the right, they betray a bizarre and unfounded lack of confidence in the importance of what they do. What is more important than educating the young? What is more important than safeguarding our generational right to be treated with respect by future generations? What is more important than preserving the treasures of the civilization that makes our livelihoods possible? What is more important than protecting the largest database of human behavior we have from cynical instrumentalization? Have we not read 1984?

    One of the crucial ingredients of tyranny in the present is control of historical knowledge — indeed, it is difficult to imagine a tyrant who lacks such control, lest the past afford politically threatening visions of how society should be more justly structured. From the tyrant’s perspective, the past is no less potent a rival power center than an opposition political party or an independent judiciary. Why did Stalin erase the victims of purges from photographs? Why does Putin claim that Ukraine has always been Russian? Tyrants weaponize the past in order to crush their opponents in the present. How unutterably self-defeating, how deep a betrayal of their civic duty, for historians to legitimize such weaponization by engaging in it themselves for their own preferred ends! It is an abuse of power. Like tyrants, we are insisting on a right to discipline others while refusing to discipline ourselves. Expertise is meaningless if it is not limited. If we do not respect the limits of our expertise, why should anyone respect our expertise?

    It cannot be a mere coincidence that as the historical profession has so largely given up on its commitment to scholarly humanism and scholarly proceduralism, so many Americans across the political spectrum have given up on civic humanism and liberal-democratic proceduralism.

    The rising tide of illiberalism on both the hard left and the hard right is characterized by an ends-justify-the-means mentality — a willingness to break the rules in order to secure the outcome they want. This is the political analogue of the narcissistic anti-proceduralism, the rejection of method in favor of ideology, in the historical profession. Just as it is incompatible with humanistic scholarship, so it is incompatible with liberal democracy, which is based on the proceduralist commitment that outcomes reached through procedural violations, however morally appealing their substance may be, are illegitimate.

    In liberal-democratic politics as in scholarship, the commitment to procedure has a moral basis. Essentially, it lifts the golden rule — do unto others as you would have them do unto you — to the level of a whole nation. Being enraged at someone is not a sufficient justification to strip them of their right to due process, any more than someone else being enraged at you is sufficient justification to strip you of your right to due process. The substantive moral commitment which grounds proceduralism, as it does the golden rule, is the belief in shared human dignity. That humanistic conviction is why proceduralism prohibits us from violating the rights of our fellow citizens. We may not like them, but we recognize that their humanity has no weaker a claim on rights than ours. Proceduralism thus goes hand-in-hand with humanism.

    But the feedback loop between them is now moving in reverse. In politics, as in the historical profession, anti-humanism and anti-proceduralism are feeding each other.

    On the one hand, across the political spectrum, there is a rampant reliance on caricatures, a refusal to see individuals in their three-dimensional human complexity. The hard right lumps everyone it dislikes into “woke mobs,” including those who are neither woke nor mobbish. Meanwhile the hard left sees everyone it disagrees with as white supremacists, transphobes, and so on, seeing no daylight between, say, those who call for the “eradication” of transgenderism and those who would limit the participation of trans-men in women’s sports but at the same time believe that transgenderism is natural and that trans people should have full civil rights. Both the hard right and the hard left are intolerant of pluralism and diversity; both are incapable of grappling with nuance and complexity; both are dehumanizing and inhumane. That dehumanization encourages violations of rules, because why bother respecting due process for someone less than fully human. On the other hand, equally across the political spectrum, there is a growing willingness to break the rules. The ur-example, of course, remains the January 6 assault on the Capitol. But there are plenty of more mundane examples, such as attempts to abolish the filibuster and to pass huge spending bills by abusing reconciliation. A nice illustration of the politically protean nature of the rule-breaking impulse was supplied by The New York Times’ publication of a plea from two law professors on the left “to reclaim America from constitutionalism” — “why justify our politics by the Constitution?” they impatiently asked — and its publication two weeks later of an article about interest on the right in calling a new constitutional convention. Not following the rules makes it easier to dehumanize people, because we no longer have to slow down and try to understand them in all their complex subjectivity.

    This mental laziness is excused by a sort of fatalism about the possibility and the effects of empathy. We differ so fundamentally from our opponents, the epistemologists of extremism claim, that we cannot possibly understand them, and we pollute ourselves by trying. Were the historical profession today not itself so fatalistic, it would stand as a stinging rebuke to this fatalism. It is ludicrous to think that the imaginative distance between a Trump supporter and a Biden supporter is greater than the imaginative distance between either of them and a medieval peasant. The historical profession is premised on the idea that, through imagination disciplined by historical evidence, it is possible for a historian in the twenty-first century, who almost certainly believes that the condition of one’s birth should not determine one’s station in life, to understand how the world looked to someone in the thirteenth century, who saw a society of ranks and privileges as a natural order. It is equally ludicrous to think that there is anyone more evil today than Hitler, Stalin, and the other monsters with whom historians routinely empathize without turning into mass murderers themselves. Historians who deny the possibility and desirability of inter-subjective understanding not only fly in the face of this professional premise but also set a terrible example for all Americans. 

    The effects of historians’ failure to insist on the possibility and importance of inter-subjective understanding are particularly clear in the realm of fiscal and environmental policy. As historians’ confidence in this understanding has weakened, so too has their confidence in its possibility across generations. This weakening affects cuts in multiple temporal directions. With no sense of obligation to preserve an inheritance from the past, the present has no sense of obligation to pass on an inheritance to the future. Can its voracious consumption of fiscal and environmental resources, both of which will perilously reduce the freedom of action for future generations, be unconnected to the presentism of the profession most obliged to be anti-presentist?

    It is vital for historians to reckon with the flaws of their profession as an institution, not only for their own sake but for the sake of the nation that supports their institution, and to reflect on the ways that they have fed and been fed by the most inhumane and dehumanizing impulses in American life today. It is true that there are forces outside the historical profession that want to destroy it, for reasons that I vigorously disagree with — for instance, for the reason that studying the past is not “useful,” with “usefulness” defined in a narrow market-based sense. In reality, there is not much that is more “useful” when it comes to educating free citizens in a liberal democracy than studying the past. Its “utility” is overwhelming. Yet it is also the case that the historical profession has not cared for this “utility” and has not been doing the job properly, and so it has sacrificed the moral high ground to resist the misguided and sometimes malicious calls to defund it.

    The historical profession cannot survive without honesty, and it cannot have honesty if it engages in “enemy thinking,” to borrow Martin Luther King Jr.’s phrase, about everyone who criticizes it, especially from the right. Put differently, the profession may be in the process of being murdered, but it is also in the process of committing suicide — a characterization true of a number of important institutions in American life.

    Scholarly standards, like liberal-democratic standards, exist to protect us from our worst instincts and to encourage us to live up to our highest potential as human beings. As historians and as Americans, we can justify breaking the rules and violating the standards however we wish, but the justification can only ever be a variation on what Milton called the tyrant’s plea of necessity, that the ends justify the means. In historical scholarship and in liberal democracy, the means justify the ends. When we forget this, we imperil not only the humanities but humaneness itself.

    It is a pathology of the modern United States that Americans require a national-security justification to do almost anything; they clothe everything they do, from the war on poverty to the war on drugs, in militarized language. Obviously they should renew their commitment to rigorous humanism and a liberal democracy because it is the right thing to do, not because it is a national security issue. But it is also a national security issue.

    The loss of capacity for methodologically rigorous humanistic thought has implications not only for liberal democracy in the United States but also for its position in the world. It is ironic and tragic that the United States has experienced this loss even as it has become de rigueur to narrate the turn of the century as a transition from the “end of history” to the “return of history.” History has certainly returned (or rather never went away). Yet a sense of history has not returned with it.

    It isn’t the 1950s anymore. The United States no longer bestrides a world digging out of the rubble of World War II. The Soviet Union no longer exists, but the United States faces a much more potent challenger to its position atop the global power rankings in China, which has not only the military prowess of the Soviet Union but also far greater economic strength. The United States cannot fritter away its national unity without geopolitical consequence. The principal beneficiary of socio-political dysfunction in the United States and in the Western alliance is, of course, China. By neglecting the humanities, which play a crucial role in nurturing a sense of liberal-democratic unity in a pluralistic nation and alliance, the United States is giving a strategic gift to China.

    Since the pertinence of humanistic scholarship to American foreign policy is not obvious, let me explain. Strategy requires a particular kind of thinking. Such thinking will be a condition of American strength in the era of great power rivalry that has now begun. Yet the neglect of intellectual rigor, the decline of its prestige in our culture, will inevitably damage the United States’ ability to formulate its strategy amid all the danger and competition. Michael Ignatieff’s recent warning in these pages about the importance of understanding what thinking is applies powerfully to strategy:

    We are confused about what thinking is. To think is not to process information. We have impoverished our understanding of thinking by analogizing it to what our machines do. What we do is not processing. It is not computation. It is not data analysis. It is a distinctively, incorrigibly human activity that is a complex combination of conscious and unconscious, rational and intuitive, logical and emotional reflection. It is so complex that neither neurologists nor philosophers have found a way to model it, and the engineers of artificial intelligence are still struggling to replicate some of the simplest forms of pattern recognition that human cognition does so effortlessly. We must beware that in our attempt to make computers think like us we do not end up thinking like them.

    American policymakers — particularly in the US Navy, which would play the lead role in any conflict with China — think too much like computers. When all you have is STEM, everything looks like an engineering problem with a technical or technological solution. The Navy has reduced the competition with China to a combat problem and is searching for a technological silver bullet with sufficient “lethality” (an insipid term that is to the Pentagon what “disruption” is to Silicon Valley). How else to explain the Navy’s failure to articulate how victory in combat (“kinetic”) operations against the PLA Navy would advance the strategic end of compelling China to change its behavior? How else to explain its asinine expectation, as noted by Matthew Suarez, that it can leave the tasks of trade protection and interdiction, which have preoccupied the navies of great powers in virtually every maritime war in history, to the tiny navies of “allies and partners”? A war with China would massively disrupt the global economy, and the US Navy will not operate in a hermetically sealed cocoon of combat operations. The American people and neutral stakeholders will besiege it with demands for protection.

    The impulse to turn human beings into engineering problems also manifests itself in the instrumentalization of the humanities in the fields of war studies and strategic studies. “Scholars” in these fields, unlike actual scholars in the humanities, are more interested in using findings from the humanities to identify “lessons,” discover “principles,” and build models abstracted from the particular human (usually historical) contexts to which they belong. In effect, this approach turns the humanities into an instrumental technology. Since the emphasis is on instrumentalization rather than on understanding, the bar for expertise in these fields is low; today’s “experts” on economic warfare are yesterday’s experts on cyberwar, who were the previous day’s experts on Islamic terrorism, who before that were Kremlinologists. (There are exceptions, of course, but they prove rather than disprove the rule.) Human beings are not engineering problems. As John Lewis Gaddis put it, they are molecules with minds of their own. In war, as Clausewitz observed, the will is directed at an animate object that reacts. Hence the formulation of strategy requires the ability to interpret the behavior of other human beings. Data alone won’t cut it.

    Shortages of manpower and material may be excused. Not so shortages of brainpower. The historian Marc Bloch, in reflecting on the reasons for France’s shocking fall to the Nazis in 1940, wrote that “the German triumph was, essentially, a triumph of intellect — and it is that which makes it so peculiarly serious.” Instead of studying history rigorously, with as much interest in change as in continuity, the French studied it selectively. Bloch recalled a lecture on Napoleonic tactics given in 1910 by Ferdinand Foch, the future Supreme Commander of the Allied forces in World War I, in which Foch “exhibited them as models to be followed irrespective of any changes that might have taken place in the world since Napoleon’s time.” And this type of intellectual shallowness was not limited to the military. “As a nation,” Bloch wrote, “we had been content with incomplete knowledge and imperfectly thought-out ideas,” adding that “such an attitude is not a good preparation for military success.” Rather, “this mental laziness” led to “a gloomy mood of self-satisfaction.” Bloch, who in World War II joined the French resistance and was tortured and executed by the Gestapo in 1944 (Strange Defeat was published posthumously), castigated the government for having abdicated its ultimate responsibility for French security: “nothing shed a cruder light on the spinelessness of Government than its capitulation to the technicians.”

    The great historian’s analysis was correct. Those who seek the causes of the French defeat in the technical realm — especially in the realm of armor — merely capitulate again to the technicians. The French actually had more and better tanks than the Germans. What they did not have was an effective way of using them: they made decisions more slowly than the tanks could move. The reason for this slowness was that French command-and-control was highly centralized. As the historian Eugenia Kiesling has shown, the reason for the centralization was that the French army’s reserves lacked the training to be entrusted with decision-making responsibility. The reason for this lack of training was mutual distrust between the army and the political left. At the same time, French businesses, on the grounds of liberal property rights, resisted government attempts to prepare the economy for war in time of peace. In short, the proximate cause of the French defeat was that their military could not match the speed of German decision-making; the ultimate cause was the nation’s failure to overcome its bitter divisions in the face of an existential threat. This is a social, political, psychological, and economic story, which is the stuff of the humanities. It is not the stuff of STEM, which can get us no farther than the technical nuts-and-bolts of French and German tanks, or of our own missiles.

    Bloch’s heroism is itself a testimony to the role of historical and humanistic understanding in determining the fate of a society. His post-mortem of a gloomily self-satisfied nation riven by internal tensions in the face of a determined competitor should serve as a warning today. The United States is so self-absorbed that it forgets about the outside world. Steadily we make ourselves weak and irrelevant. The threat of China is growing larger while Americans fantasize about national divorce. If we are broken, it is because we broke ourselves. Yet the sciences cannot fix social and political dysfunction. Only the humanities can; but first they must fix or be fixed themselves.

    Experiments of Living Constitutionalism: A Manifesto

    In constitutional law, there are a lot of isms. 

    Textualism claims that the Constitution’s text is binding. The central idea is that judges are bound by the written words of the founding document. (Reasonable textualists acknowledge that the text is often ambiguous. What, for example, is meant by “the freedom of speech”? That is far from obvious.)

    Originalism, which is on the ascendancy on the current Supreme Court, insists that the Constitution should be interpreted in accordance with its original public meaning — its meaning at the time of its ratification in the late eighteenth century, and after the Civil War for the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments. (Reasonable originalists acknowledge that the original public meaning is often ambiguous. What was the original understanding of the constitutional provision granting “executive power” to the president? That is not obvious.)

    Living constitutionalism claims that the meaning of the Constitution evolves over time, which means that the document might require states to recognize same-sex marriage now, even if it did not require that before. (Reasonable living constitutionalists acknowledge that judges can go in terrible directions. From American history, you can take your pick.) 

    Thayerism — so named after the great Harvard law professor James Bradley Thayer — claims that judges should uphold legislation unless it is unconstitutional beyond a reasonable doubt. (Reasonable Thayerians acknowledge that under their approach, school segregation would probably have to be upheld, and freedom of speech would be far less robust than it now is. They respond that if you believe in democracy, you should accept judicial restraint, and take the bitter with the sweet.)

    Minimalism contends that judges should avoid abstract theories and go case-by-case, interpreting the Constitution with close reference to the particular facts. (Reasonable minimalists acknowledge that their approach leaves a lot of uncertainty, and also that in some cases they will have to get more theoretical than they would like.)

    In view of the proliferation of isms in the domain of constitutional law, there is strong reason to hesitate before proposing yet another. Still, I have one to offer. I do so because it has yet to be identified; because reasonable arguments can be made on its behalf; and because it helps to organize and to illuminate numerous constitutional developments over the last decades. Those developments are otherwise puzzling and unmotivated. At the same time, the approach I sketch suggests a future path for constitutional law that is unlikely to be taken, at least in the United States — but that we would do well to visualize. Constitutional law is full of surprises, and some of the surprises are good ones. In any case, theories of constitutional interpretation sometimes spread through the public, even if they do not get traction in the courts.

    Here is the proposal, for your consideration: Experiments of Living Constitutionalism. 

    The central idea is that the Constitution should be interpreted to allow both individuals and groups to experiment with different ways of living, whether we are speaking of religious practices, family arrangements, sex, romance, marriage, child-rearing, schooling, or work. Experiments of Living Constitutionalism prizes individual dignity. It emphasizes the importance of learning. It cherishes diversity and plurality; it opposes (what it sees as) authoritarianism in all its forms. It is emphatically liberal in character — liberal in its emphasis on freedom and agency, especially with respect to things that people care most about.

    The operative phrase — experiments of living — comes from John Stuart Mill, who said this in On Liberty in 1859:

    That mankind are not infallible; that their truths, for the most part, are only half-truths; that unity of opinion, unless resulting from the fullest and freest comparison of opposite opinions, is not desirable, and diversity not an evil, but a good, until mankind are much more capable than at present of recognizing all sides of the truth, are principles applicable to men’s modes of action, not less than to their opinions. As it is useful that while mankind are imperfect there should be different opinions, so it is that there should be different experiments of living; that free scope should be given to varieties of character, short of injury to others; and that the worth of different modes of life should be proved practically, when any one thinks fit to try them. It is desirable, in short, that in things which do not primarily concern others, individuality should assert itself. Where, not the person’s own character, but the traditions or customs of other people are the rule of conduct, there is wanting one of the principal ingredients of human happiness, and quite the chief ingredient of individual and social progress.

    Experiments of Living Constitutionalists insist on the importance of allowing and encouraging “varieties of character” and on the value of “different modes of life.” It does so in part because it values the dignity and separateness of every individual. It does so in part because it sees experiments of living as essential to social as well as individual progress. For those who embrace Experiments of Living Constitutionalism, experiments of living also contribute to the common good. If each of us is able to see what each of us has tried, and is free to experiment, we will have more options to consider; all of us will be able to learn from every one of us. Failed experiments of living may be nothing to celebrate, but they are sources of knowledge and experience and they contribute to both individual and social progress. 

    As its name (inadvertently!) suggests, Experiments of Living Constitutionalism is a form of living constitutionalism. Its advocates firmly reject originalism. They do not believe that the Constitution should be frozen in time. They do not think that it should be understood in accordance with its original public meaning. If the Supreme Court allows people to experiment with certain forms of speech (blasphemous speech, sexually explicit speech, potentially dangerous speech), it might be going well beyond the original meaning. Nonetheless, Experiments of Living Constitutionalists claim that their preferred approach has deep roots in Anglo-American traditions, and that it can be understood in a way that is faithful to the text of the Constitution. Experiments of Living Constitutionalists value longstanding principles and aspirations in our political tradition, and they try to build on them, even if they do not think that the meaning of the Constitution is forever fixed. 

    Those who favor Experiments of Living Constitutionalism prize freedom of speech. Indeed, they might prize this freedom most of all. They celebrate Justice Robert Jackson’s powerful words in 1943: “Compulsory unification of opinion achieves only the unanimity of the graveyard.” They are drawn to Jackson’s suggestion: “If there is any fixed star in our constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion, or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein.” For that reason, they would protect political speech of diverse kinds. They would also protect art, literature, film, an d all the arts believing that all of these are crucial to consideration of experiments of living.

    To be sure, Experiments of Living Constitutionalists do not believe that the first amendment is “an absolute.” They know that some speech contributes little or nothing to experiments of living, and they know that some speech imposes serious and immediate harm. They do not think it is a legitimate experiment of living for someone to say, “Your money or your life.” They would allow restrictions on bribery, perjury, and fraud, and they would permit restrictions on speech when there is a clear and present danger. They are not at all clear how much the Constitution should protect commercial advertising; they fear that the current Court’s keen interest in protecting such advertising is a misadventure. But they are broadly comfortable with existing First Amendment doctrine, which is fiercely protective of free speech, and they would resist efforts to authorize any kind of censorship. 

    In the same vein, those who favor Experiments of Living Constitutionalism prize freedom of religion. They would allow a plurality of faiths to flourish. They would vigorously protect people of faith, agnostics, and atheists. They would not be reluctant to stand in the way of federal or state efforts to impose secular values, even widely held ones, on people whose religious traditions are inconsistent with those values. (If the Catholic Church does not want to perform or recognize same-sex marriages, that is its right.) Experiments of Living Constitutionalists are especially enthusiastic about freedom of association, whether we are speaking of civic associations, political associations, book clubs, or associations of any other kind. They would be strongly inclined to protect contemporary rights of privacy, including the right to use contraceptives, the right to live with members of one’s family, the right to engage in consensual sexual relations of any kind and the right to same-sex marriage. For those who embrace Experiments of Living Constitutionalism, the focus on sexual privacy is not a mistake, a coincidence, or some kind of indulgence. It is entirely appropriate and something to be celebrated, for sex is a domain in which “individuality should assert itself.” 

    Since Experiments of Living Constitutionalists prize individual agency, they take the right to choose abortion seriously. Still, they greatly struggle with this particular issue. For them, it is not an easy question; the moral issue is difficult. (My experiment of living does not allow me to hurt you.) In the end, they might not commit themselves to a right to choose, because of the importance and the value of protecting unborn life. Following Mill, Experiments of Living Constitutionalists enthusiastically agree that the state might interfere with freedom when there is harm to others. 

    Experiments of Living Constitutionalism is a great friend to federalism, seeing the diversity of the states as an engine for the creation of experiments of living. Mississippi need not take the same path as Massachusetts. Local norms and cultures deserve protection (unless they squelch, through their governments, experiments of living). Those who embrace Experiments of Living Constitutionalism embrace Justice Brandeis’ idea of “laboratories of democracy”; they will strongly resist national efforts to override particular values and approaches that are prized by citizens of (for example) California, Georgia, or Wyoming. 

    At the same time, they will be open-minded on separation of powers questions. The commitment to Experiments of Living Constitutionalism does not entail a particular approach to grants of power and discretion to administrative agencies such as the Department of Education, the Environmental Protection Agency, or the Federal Communication Commission. But Experiments of Living Constitutionalists approach separation of powers issues with Mill’s cautionary note in mind: “Where, not the person’s own character, but the traditions or customs of other people are the rule of conduct, there is wanting one of the principal ingredients of human happiness, and quite the chief ingredient of individual and social progress.”

    At this point, you might have numerous questions and concerns. What is the pedigree of the Experiments of Living Constitution? Where on earth does it come from? What are its limits? Justice Holmes famously wrote, “The Constitution does not enact Mr. Herbert Spencer’s Social Statics.” Does the U.S. Constitution enact Mr. John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty? Wouldn’t that be absurd? Why should anyone embrace an effort to understand an eighteenth-century American document by reference to the thinking of a British philosopher over half a century later?

    Those who support the Experiments of Living Constitution agree that such questions must be taken seriously, but they think that they can answer them. They point to the distinctive form of liberal republicanism that defined and launched the U.S. Constitution. In brief: liberal republicanism is liberal insofar as it emphasizes the agency and the dignity of all of us; it is republican insofar as it sees government as an engine for collective deliberation about the public good. Experiments of Living Constitutionalists claim continuity with liberal republicanism. They add that to a greater or lesser degree, Mill was essentially summarizing and elaborating principles that predated and informed the American founding. 

    Experiments of Living Constitutionalists insist in particular that the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments, ratified in the aftermath of the Civil War, are animated by a commitment to individual freedom that fits comfortably with their preferred approach. In their view, the idea of experiments of living has a long tradition behind it; Montesquieu and Locke can be seen as having defended versions of that idea, as can Madison, Hamilton, and Jefferson. Mill was hardly writing on a clean slate. The idea of experiments of living is anything but a concoction, or a bolt from the blue. In American constitutional law, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. spoke directly in the terms of Experiments of Living Constitutionalism in his great dissenting opinion in Abrams v. United States, decided in 1919:

    But when men have realized that time has upset many fighting faiths, they may come to believe even more than they believe the very foundations of their own conduct that the ultimate good desired is better reached by free trade in ideas — that the best test of truth is the power of the thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market, and that truth is the only ground upon which their wishes safely can be carried out. That at any rate is the theory of our Constitution. It is an experiment, as all life is an experiment. Every year if not every day we have to wager our salvation upon some prophecy based upon imperfect knowledge. While that experiment is part of our system I think that we should be eternally vigilant against attempts to check the expression of opinions that we loathe and believe to be fraught with death, unless they so imminently threaten immediate interference with the lawful and pressing purposes of the law that an immediate check is required to save the country. 

    Skeptics might ask how Experiments of Living Constitutionalism relates to our existing Constitution, and whether it promises, or threatens, to produce radical reforms. Would government paternalism, understood as the displacement of individual choices by officials who think they know best, be out of bounds? Would motorcycle helmet laws be out of bounds? Would there be a constitutional right to use illegal drugs? Would there be a right to polygamous marriages? To incestuous marriages? To pornography? Which Experiments of Living lack constitutional protection? These are fair and challenging questions. In response, defenders of Experiments of Living Constitutionalism have four things to say.

    First, defenders of Experiments of Living Constitutionalism are not fanatics, and they need not embrace everything that Mill says about liberty. Certainly they need not go so far as to accept Mill’s Harm Principle (which forbids regulation unless it is justified as a way of preventing harm to others). You can believe in Experiments of Living Constitutionalism without thinking that government paternalism, even of the coercive sort, is always out of bounds. Experiments of Living Constitutionalists should have no trouble with laws that require people to buckle their seatbelts, to wear helmets while riding motorcycles, or to save money for retirement (as through Social Security). They can accept cigarette taxes, even if the goal of such taxes is to prevent people from harming themselves. Nor would they have much interest in the view that the Constitution protects a right to polygamous marriages, incestuous marriages, or child pornography. 

    One reason is that in some of these cases individual choices clearly impose harm to others (consider child pornography). If your experiment injures someone else, you had better stop experimenting. And even when people are not harming others, Experiments of Living Constitutionalists insist, as Mill did not, on the importance of distinguishing between genuine experiments of living that are fundamental to people’s lives (as when people choose to live together in lieu of marriage, or follow a religious conviction of their own) and choices that clearly lack that character (as when people decide to not to buckle their seatbelts, or not so save for retirement). To be sure, there might be some hard line-drawing problems here.

    Second, Experiments of Living Constitutionalists emphasize that far from being radical, their approach helps to clarify and support a great deal of existing law. Since the 1960s, the Supreme Court has vigorously protected freedom of speech, including not only political speech but also literature, art, cinema, and much more. (The Court is largely following Holmes.) In the process, it has also protected a great deal of sexually explicit speech. So, too, freedom of association enjoys broad protection. So does religious liberty. As noted, the justices have ruled that sexual privacy qualifies for protection under the due process clause. It is not simple to produce an account that explains and supports all these disparate rulings. Experiments of Living Constitutionalism can provide such an account. 

    Third, defenders of Experiments of Living Constitutionalism are willing to be respectful of precedent, whether or not they agree with it. They may not agree, for example, with the Court’s ruling that the Constitution does not protect the right to physician-assisted suicide. But like almost everyone else, they do not think it appropriate to overrule decisions simply because they believe that they were wrong. You can accept Experiment of Living Constitutionalism while also thinking that any legal system on earth needs to respect stare decisis, so as to prevent instability and perhaps even a form of constitutional chaos. A legal system cannot operate if today’s decision is in tomorrow’s garbage heap. 

    Fourth, those who embrace Experiments of Living Constitutionalism would give careful attention to the decisions of democratic processes. They are liberals, after all, and liberals are democrats, even if there are real limits on what democracies can do. Experiments of Living Constitutionalists will have to make some difficult choices here, but if Congress or a state legislature has made a reasonable decision, supporters of Experiments of Living Constitutionalism might well be cautious before rejecting it. You can believe in experiments of living without being a fanatic. Everything depends on the details — on the kind of liberty that is at stake, and on the strength of the argument for interfering with it. To this extent, Experiments of Living Constitutionalists might be willing to make common cause with minimalists.

    How shall we choose between Experiments of Living Constitutionalism and other approaches to constitutional interpretation? Should we reject it in favor of originalism? Any answer to that question would have to offer criteria of selection, which are urgently needed. I suggest that the only possible answer is another question: What would make our constitutional order better rather than worse? That is an admittedly daunting question, but there is no alternative to asking it. It is the only game in town. The Constitution does not contain the instructions for its own interpretation. It does not have an originalism clause; it does not say, “This document shall be interpreted in accordance with its original public meaning.” In fact it does not specify any theory of interpretation. The choice of such a theory is inevitably our own. 

    Some originalists seem to think that their preferred approach follows from the very idea of interpretation, but it really does not. In the end, originalism has to be justified on the grounds that it would make our system better. Many alternative approaches, including Experiments of Living Constitutionalism, can fall within the domain of interpretation, so long as they operate by reference to and within the space of the Constitution itself. It is hopeless to defend a contested theory of interpretation by citing the founding document and pounding the table. The only way to defend such a theory, or to evaluate it, is to ask what it would do for the institutions and rights under which the American people live. Where else can we possibly turn?

    It might be tempting to respond that the choice of a theory of interpretation cannot possibly depend on the results that it yields. One might think that that choice has to be made on the basis of some commitment that might seem higher or deeper, or more fundamental. If we focus on results, and choose a theory of interpretation on the basis of results, perhaps we are biased, or unforgivably “result-oriented,” and engaged in some kind of special pleading. The problem with such a response is that it rests on an illusion of compulsion. Among the reasonable candidates, judges (and others) are not compelled to adopt a particular theory of interpretation; they must make a choice. One last time: To do that, judges (and others) are required to ask about what would make our constitutional order better rather than worse. 

    Here is an answer to that question: Experiments of Living Constitutionalism. 

     

    The Tranquil Gaze of Benito Pérez Galdós

    I consider Javier Cercas one of the best writers in the Spanish language, and I believe that, after oblivion has buried his contemporaries, at least three of his extraordinary books — Soldiers of Salamis, The Anatomy of a Moment, and The Imposter — will still have readers who turn to them to learn what our disordered present was like. He is also a man of courage. He loves his homeland of Catalonia, and his articles inveighing against the secessionist demagoguery of the Catalan separatists are persuasive and incontestable.

    In an urbane debate some time back with Antonio Muñoz Molina on the subject of the nineteenth-century Spanish novelist Benito Pérez Galdós, Cercas admitted that he didn’t care for the prose of the author of Fortunata and Jacinta. As my grandfather Pedro used to say, entre gustos y colores, no han escrito los autores, which roughly translated is the old adage that there is no accounting for taste. Everyone has a right to his opinion, and writers do too, but to make such a declaration on the centenary of Pérez Galdós’ death, when everyone else was lauding and commemorating him, was certainly a provocation. 

    I don’t care for Proust. For years this embarrassed me, and I kept it under wraps. Not anymore. I confess I read him lethargically; I struggled to get through his interminable novel and its long sentences, its author’s fussiness and frivolity. His small, selfish world repelled me, not to mention those cork-lined walls meant to buffer him from the distracting noise of the outside world, which I love so much. Had I been a reader for Gallimard when Proust submitted the manuscript of his first volume, I fear I would have advised against publication, as did André Gide. (He regretted this error for the rest of his life.) All this is to say that, in the polemic in question, I took the side of Muñoz Molina, in opposition to my friend Javier Cercas.

    A few months later, in a column in El País entitled “The Merit of Galdós,” Cercas was far more generous and, I believe, accurate, in his treatment of the writer. He admitted that in the immense vacuum in Spanish literature that followed Don Quixote, Pérez Galdós had embarked upon “a literary project of unprecedented ambition and breadth in an attempt to consolidate a novelistic tradition conspicuously absent in Spain.” And he affirmed that neither Pio Baroja’s Memoirs of a Man of Action nor Ramon Maria del Valle-Inclán’s The Carlist War were conceivable without the National Episodes, the extraordinary corpus of forty-six historical novels about Spain that Peréz Galdós produced between 1872 and 1912. I could not agree more.

    It is unjust to say, as many did in his day, that Benito Pérez Galdós was a bad writer. He was not a genius, but he was the best Spanish writer of the nineteenth century, the most ambitious, and probably the first professional writer that the language had. In those days, whether in Spain or Latin America, it was impossible for a writer to live from royalties. (Many journalists, instead of receiving a salary, wrote solely for the purpose of making themselves known.) Pérez Galdós had a prosperous family that admired him and kept him afloat for a long time, letting him exercise his vocation, granting him the independence that he needed to write freely. His novels and his essays were brought out by different publishers (sometimes even by himself) under contracts that he did not always believe were honored. And yet he became famous, and soon set to writing the National Episodes.

    For a long time, I wanted to read Pérez Galdós from beginning to end — as a student I had read Fortunata and Jacinta, of course, but I was ignorant of his work as a whole — and it struck me that the coronavirus pandemic would provide a fine occasion to do so. After eighteen months, having finished the plays, the novels, and the National Episodes, I was impressed by the tranquil, wounded world that he invented. I have yet to read all his essays and articles: they represent an immense labor, and I am still making my way through them. I doubt that more than a few scholars have tackled them all. The reason for this is simple: Pérez Galdós was not a great thinker, like Ortega y Gasset or Unamuno, and though he did compose a few interesting essays, the better part of his journalistic work has been rightly unremarked upon, being transient and superficial. There is little point in devoting so much time to literature of so little weight, even if there are a few nuggets of value in the lot.

    Pérez Galdós was born in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, or the Canary Islands, on May 10, 1843, the son of Lieutenant Colonel Sebastián Pérez, the military leader of the island and a landholder who devoted much of his time to his assorted businesses. Benito was the youngest of ten siblings, and his mother, Dolores de Galdós, a woman of great character, was known to wear the pants in the family. It was she who decided that Benito, apparently in love with a cousin she disapproved of, should go to Madrid at the age of twenty to study law. Yolanda Arencibia, a great promoter of Galdós and the author of what is far and away the best (and most voluminous) biography of him, has tried to determine whether his love affair with his cousin Sisita was the true cause of his departure from Las Palmas. But she ran up against a wall. In that family, secrets were not to be broached.

    Pérez Galdós used his first vacation period in Madrid to return to his home island and see her. But, according to Arencibia, Sisita was soon to depart for Cuba — she was a native of its most beautiful colonial city, Trinidad — to marry the landowner Eduardo Duque, who would give her a son, Sebastián, who lived only a few years. After the death of her first husband, Sisita married a relative, Pablo de Galdós, but died at the young age of twenty-eight of a postpartum infection, which in those days was known as puerperal fever. Some believe that Pérez Galdós was forevermore in love with her and remained single to honor her memory, but this is pure speculation, as neither he nor those close to him ever addressed the subject directly or allowed pertinent details to come to light.

    Obedient to his mother, Benito attended the Complutense University in Madrid, but soon became disenchanted with the law. Journalism was more attractive to him, and he devoted a great deal of time to it — and to bohemian Madrid, the vitality in its coffee houses full of painters, scribblers, reporters, and politicians, which he abundantly described in his writings. He turned increasingly toward literature, starting with theater, his first passion, writing comedies in verse and prose. According to his own account, none of them made it to the stage, and one day he burned them all. He would return to the genre years later.

    He loved Madrid extravagantly, more than any other writer before or after. He was the most faithful and refined connoisseur of its streets and dive bars, its shops and boarding houses, its salons and gossip mills, its human types, its customs and professions and businesses, the errors in spoken Spanish common to its less cultured citizens, and, of course, its history. As an example of the depth of Pérez Galdós’ love for and acquaintance with Madrid, it suffices to read the first two chapters of Prim, one of the best of the National Episodes; the streets and their residents seem to come to life as though touched by a magic wand — the author’s prose — as the character of Santiago Ibero, a fervent young admirer of General Prim, prepares the two men’s vertiginous escape to Mexico. The same novel includes also a wonderful description of the Atheneum, where Pérez Galdós studied and read voluminously; the passage is splendid for its prose and its measured summary of Spanish politics in April 1862. The writer’s vision is tranquil, patient, serene, and diligently portrays a world immobilized by religion, which possesses the virtue (or the fault?) of holding it in an almost painterly stasis, but which at other times is its tragedy, its doom.

    The hostility that Pérez Galdós awakened in his country in the years when he was writing his novels, his plays, and the National Episodes now strikes us as hard to believe. Of course he had his supporters, but his adversaries were apparently more numerous. It was said that his books “stank of pork stew,” that he wrote vulgarly and inelegantly. Famously, in 1924 in his play Bohemian Lights, Valle-Inclán insulted Pérez Galdós and his naturalist style with the nickname garbancero, or “the chickpea man,” which he was never able to live down. This animosity became particularly evident in 1912, in the widespread opposition to the then-seventy-nine-year-old writer’s nomination for the Nobel Prize in Literature, which had been proposed by some five hundred writers, journalists, and artists with the support of the Spanish government. The Swedish Academy is said to have received more petitions against his candidacy than for it, with the objections coming principally from far-right Catholic circles that saw in him a republican and an extreme freethinker. No man is a prophet in his own country, and in the Spain of the time, dominated by narrow and sectarian Catholicism, Pérez Galdós was considered a fiercely anticlerical liberal. This was never quite true: his liberalism and his republicanism were scrupulously tolerant. With typical logic and clarity, the poet and writer Andrés Trapiello said of the conspiracy against Galdós, “It was the triumph of Spanish mange and meanness in the face of liberal principles.”

    In his works, Pérez Galdós described primarily the middle classes — or so it is said; but he did not ignore the aristocracy or the humbler fringes of society. As a writer he climbed up and down the social ladder at will, and one of the late Episodes, entitled A Coterie of Imps, begins with a splendid description of Madrid at its poorest, “one of its most destitute and hideous streets, the one called Rodas, which rises and falls over the hill between Embajadores and the Rastro,” where a village woman, Lucila Ansúrez, lives. She has taken refuge with Captain Bartolomé Gracián, a man she loves who is being persecuted by the powers that be.

    Photographs depict the huge crowds in Madrid that accompanied Pérez Galdós’ mortal remains to the Almudena Cemetery on January 5, 1920. According to the press, at least thirty thousand people came to pay homage to him in death. What was the source of this popularity? Above all, the National Episodes. He did what Balzac, Dickens, and Zola had done for their countries, and what he admired them for doing: telling, in fiction, the history and the social reality of their nations. Though as an artist he did not surpass the first two (with some of his novels he may have exceeded Zola, only three years his elder), his Episodes exist in the same line, and convert the lived past into literature, putting within reach of the broader public an even-handed, pleasurable, wise, and well-written version of the nineteenth century, with living characters and solid reportage — and this was a decisive period for Spain, encompassing the French invasion, the independence struggles against Napoleon’s armies, the reactionary absolutism of Ferdinand the Seventh, the invasion of Morocco, the Carlist Wars (a series of nineteenth-century conflicts over the legitimate heir to the Spanish throne which laid the ground for the legitimist and traditionalist forces of twentieth-century Spanish fascism), the short-lived First Republic, and finally, the Bourbon Restoration. Unlike other European countries such as Germany, France, and England, Spain cannot be said to have experienced the industrial revolution, and much of its time was wasted in these years in anachronistic wars of religion, which left it fatally backward after centuries as the supreme power on the continent.

    Pérez Galdós’ merit lies not only in documenting this period in his novels, but also in his way of doing so: with objectivity, with a comprehending and generous spirit, without taking sides ideologically, putting the ethical above the political, separating idealism from fanaticism, seeing the generosity and the misery in the hearts of both sides of the debates of the time. This is what stands out most when we read the plays, the novels, and the Episodes: a writer struggling to remain fair and impartial. His approach seems to freeze the Spain of his time in a sure objective gaze, immobilizing his subject to give a more faithful account of its nature.

    This is the furthest thing imaginable from the obstinate, peremptory caricature of Galdós that we have come to know. He was a civil man, a liberal who in his old age supported the Republic; but more than a politician, and a representative in the Cortes, he was a decent and thoughtful man. When narrating a tumultuous period in Spain’s history, he strove to do so equitably and with detachment, singling out the good from the bad and recognizing the presence of both in friends as well as foes. The exception to this, perhaps, was his view of the frivolity of the upper and middle classes, particularly at the time of the Restoration; about this he was often implacable. Yet the general absence of moral censure confers an air of justice upon the National Episodes, from Trafalgar to Cánovas, and brings his readers very close to the writer.

    He wrote as he did because he was a man of substance — muy buena gente, as we say in Peru. Not all writers are like that; some are quite the opposite. The differences in temperament have nothing to do with differences in talent. Pérez Galdós’ temperament was enriched by a spirit of fair-mindedness that made him lovable and credible. His remarkable composure gave his tales a certain stillness easily confused with immobility, as if his narratives were photographs.

    Something similar was the case in his private life. He was a lifelong bachelor, but his biographers have noted the presence of three long-term lovers and many other fleeting ones. The first, Lorenza Cobián González, a humble Asturian who gave birth to his daughter María (whom he recognized and made his sole heir), was illiterate, and he taught her to read and to write. His affair with the writer Emilia Pardo Bazán, a woman of passion (except when she wrote her novels), was rather torrid. “I will crush you,” she says to him in one of their letters. This may not have been only poetic license: this feminist writer appears to have been a devilish libertine in her private life. The last of the three was an apprentice actress, a good deal younger than him, named Concepción Morell Nicolau. Pérez Galdós supported her career in the theater, and to all appearances he behaved very badly toward her. It must be said that she was a difficult woman, and something of a cadger. Their breakup, which involved numerous friends, was drawn-out but diplomatic. 

    His great defect as a writer was his pre-Flaubertian idiom: his failure to grasp that the first character that the novelist invents is the narrator, whether he realizes it or not. This is true whether the narrator is omniscient or implicated in the action of the story; as a figure, it is he (or she) who grants independence and autonomy to the fictional creation. Despite his vast literary production, this is something that Pérez Galdós never grasped. And so the omniscience of his characters is of the classical sort, and his Gabriel Araceli and Salvador Monsalud have an impossible awareness of the thoughts and the feelings of other characters, in this way detracting from the realism of the novels. As the narrator of the Episodes and other novels, Pérez Galdós — in Amadeo I, for example, from the fifth series of the Episodes, where he appears under the name of Tito Liviano, a caricature of Titus Livius — attributes this awareness of the contents of other minds to historians and eyewitnesses or, still worse, to fantastical occurrences narrated in the realist mode, which gives an unnatural and artificial air to the otherwise naturalistic works in question.

    In the later volumes The First Republic and From Carthage to Sagunto, which tell of the chaos and disorder of the First Republic in Spain — with constant crises in the ministries, the siege of Cartagena during the Cantonal War, the threats of putsches, and the Civil War against the Carlists — the historian Tito Liviano, shyster, dwarf, and tireless fornicator, will fall in love with a teacher, Floriana. She will turn out to be a nymph and will drag the historian into a subterranean passageway full of magical surprises, such as monumental bulls that serve as mounts for the delicate feminine figures populating underground Madrid. This is, of course, an imaginary recreation of ancient Greece — a dream. It interrupts the plot arbitrarily, introducing an obtrusive and far from convincing element of fantasy. With time, such embellishments vanished from the Episodes, but attentive readers must make their peace with such backsliding into the fictional styles of the past, aware that Flaubert had already put forward a revolutionary conception of the narrator as a central, if invisible, character in the narrative — an idea that he worked out in the letters he wrote almost daily to Louise Colet as he fashioned and re-fashioned Madame Bovary.

    In From Carthage to Sagunto, the second-to-last of the Episodes, there is a description of the siege of Cuenca by the Carlist army at the orders of a woman on horseback, María das Neves, wife of Alfonso of the House of Bourbon. Here reality mingles with the diabolical in ferocious battles, beheadings, pillages of indescribable cruelty and savagery. It is proof that at times the mild Pérez Galdós’ narrative may be wild and brutal, but this is an exception. In general his tales proceed serenely, in quiet prose that moves with unruffled steps.

    In 1887, Fortunata and Jacinta, the novel that his critics and his posterity consider Pérez Galdós’ masterpiece, was published in four volumes. It originally had a subtitle, suppressed in certain editions: Two Stories of Married Women. He devoted two years — interrupted by a trip to France and Germany — to the composition of this ambitious tale, which many regard as the great Spanish novel of the nineteenth century. Others feel that this accolade should go to La Regenta by Leopoldo Alas, which appeared in two volumes in 1884-1885, but such a debate is rather absurd, given the eternal difficulties of fully describing the achievement of two first-rate novels representative of the entire era of the Spanish nineteenth century. The nineteenth century has generally been considered the zenith of the European novel, characterized by such crowning glories as Les Misérables, War and Peace, The Brothers Karamazov, and the works of Dickens and Balzac, of which Pérez Galdós was an enthusiastic admirer. All debates aside, Fortunata and Jacinta is without a doubt Pérez Galdós’ most significant and ambitious novel.

    Of particular importance in this chef-d’oeuvre is his perspective on Madrid, where the main episodes of the story take place. Fortunata and Jacinta elaborates a comprehensive vision of the city, describing its streets, its squares, its buildings, and especially its cafes, integrating them brilliantly into the action, and encompassing all of the city’s social strata, from the cream of the aristocracy to the middle classes and the very poor in a totalizing vision distinct from, but in no way inferior to, that presented in other works. I have now read this massive work three times, and the story has captivated me every time, from the first words to the last, demanding an absorption and commitment characteristic of the finest novels that I have known. 

    Its story is quite simple, but Galdos’ way of telling it is not: there is a wealth of subtlety and detail, and a deftness in its prose, both in the descriptions and the dialogues, not present in anything Galdós wrote before or after. Here again the story is told in the first person by a narrator apparently well-informed about the matters at hand, but eventually this artifice vanishes, and without the reader realizing it the narrator-as-party-to-the-events is displaced by a more conventional omniscient narrator. Like virtually all nineteenth-century novels, Fortunata and Jacinta tells the story of a romantic passion. Where it differs from its counterparts is in the duration of the passion recounted, and in the humble young woman who embodies it and who experiences passionate love — by which I mean a total surrender to a kind of love that becomes the essence and purpose of an entire life, a kind of religion — long before the Surrealist invention of the idea of l’amour fou.

    Fortunata lives this in the flesh, and in her abandonment displays a generosity without limits, until her devotion to her lover becomes the core of her existence. She gives herself completely to the young and wealthy Juanito Santa Cruz, making him her reason for living and the lodestar of her heart. Despite the obstacles and the neglect that she endures, her love will never flag, not for a single day, convinced as she is that he is everything for her. In her pledge, she does not expect reciprocity; her constancy, her stubbornness, attest to what is, in the end, her own obsession; and she is prepared to suffer humiliation and disgrace from friends and family. In a way, she meets a triumphant end, departing this world as events follow the very course that she had foreseen.

    A village woman — her proclamation that “I’m village through-and-through” has become a prominent theme in critical discussions of the novel — Fortunata is illiterate when she first meets Juanito. He is at once attracted by her beauty and repulsed by the sight of her eating a raw egg, which we must imagine dripping through her fingers. The girl lives hand-to-mouth in Cava Baja (where a plaque was recently placed in memory of her on the centenary of Galdós’ death).

    Fortunata’s epic passion is a bit difficult to explain — but is an explanation of love even possible? — because, though he is handsome and elegant, Juanito Santa Cruz hasn’t much to offer. He is a social parasite, sponging off the fortune of his parents, Baldomero and Barbarita, who toil and save their whole life as cloth wholesalers, while he lives an epicene life of leisure, devoted to his conquests and his frivolous entertainments. In the course of the novel Juanito frequently leaves Fortunata for one of his paramours, and each time she just goes on with her life. She confesses to taking lovers herself — “eight or so,” she guesses — but they mean nothing to her, and she has no doubt that she will drop them as soon as Juanito appears, because he is the one true love of her life. She is happy with him, especially in the beginning, when he sets her up in an apartment where he can visit her alone, but soon he will abandon her. They will have a child before death takes her away. Fortunata’s love is total, composed of countless sacrifices, while Juanito’s is superficial and transitory, and has room for other affairs. And even for his wife Jacinta: their honeymoon in Burgos, Zaragoza, Barcelona, Valencia, and Seville is recounted in the first chapters of the book. 

    Jacinta, the other heroine of the novel, is a graceful young woman whose life is shadowed by tragedy. She loves children, but she cannot have any. The pain of this lack will follow her until she comes to care for the newborn Juan Evaristo, Juanito and Fortunata’s son. Just before dying, Fortunata leaves the boy in Jacinta’s hands for her to raise as her own. This is a great boon to Jacinta, who had taken Fortunata to be her moral superior, following her conviction that a woman incapable of giving her husband offspring had no right to be his legitimate spouse.

    This is a brief synopsis of the central thread of the novel, which is otherwise densely peopled in a Dickensian way, with representative figures from every social class in nineteenth-century Madrid appearing and reappearing. Their ranks include a proud and unforgettable woman, Mauricia the Hard, so-called for her zealous, irascible character and her physical resemblance to Napoleon. She is one of Pérez Galdós’ finest and most striking creations, and whenever she shows up, she showers her companions with violence and rhetorical excess. Mauricia is a woman of humble origins, perpetually at war with the rich and noble. No one can tame or cow this natural born anarchist who, apart from being a rebel by nature, is subject to fits of genuine madness, one of which leads the nuns of the convent of Micaela — where penitent Catholic women go to be reeducated — to expel her.

    No less notable is Maximiliano, whom Fortunata marries but does not love, knowing that she will deceive him whenever Juanito Santa Cruz comes calling. An ugly, sickly boy of scant education, he is bowled over by Fortunata, falls deeply in love with her, and is ready to do anything for her, marrying her and pushing her toward the Christian ideal of goodness, with no success to speak of. Later, in desperation, the poor devil goes mad, raving, dreaming of murder, inventing a personal religion designed to free all humankind from the demons that torment it. 

    Apart from its descriptions of representative types, the pages of Fortunata and Jacinta abound in detailed and historically accurate descriptions of Madrid in the second half of the nineteenth century, with fine-grained illustrations of almost every street, neighborhood, and house, as well as the political and social life of the city and the customs governing it. Particularly significant here is the portrayal of its cafes, which were centers for the literary world and for society; great attention is devoted to them in the third section of the novel, when we meet Juan Pablo, one of Maximilian’s brothers and yet another marionette in the story, who wiles away his days in them. The author gives the impression at times of omniscience, as if nothing that occurred in the Madrid of the time escaped his vision, which brings together all sorts of incidents and experiences, minor and major. His empathy seems infinite, and he knows and explains everything with precision and concision.

    Though the prose is exemplary throughout, the dialogues are superior to the descriptions, apart from those occasions when Galdós indulges his old vice of aping the malformed expressions of the less cultured. Often he manages to do so with grace and good humor, wishing to gently point out the errors and malapropisms of those whose grasp of language is less than firm, with an attitude less disrespectful than amused; but at times the attempt falls flat. Some have praised Galdós’ enthusiasm for documenting the jargon of certain of his characters, such as José Izquierdo, who receives the nickname “Plato” in the novel. But unless a writer aims for a thoroughgoing reconstruction of spoken language, this way of letting characters speak in uncultured argot seems like caricature, and contemptuous of them — the work of a condescending but entertained middle-class gentleman who delights in the barbarisms of country folk, with their lexical infractions and their mangling of words whose meaning they do not know.

    What Pérez Galdós does is not re-creation: there is no labor of literary correction in his solecisms. His novels simply reproduce the speech of these people as he hears it. In this way, he does indeed ridicule his uneducated characters, who talk as they do because they know no grammar, and whose twisted speech serves only to divert an audience of people of the better sort. This is very different from, say, Faulkner, whose novels, situated in the heart of Mississippi, recreate the speech of poor whites and blacks without caricature. He can do this because his novels and stories involve a true act of literary reconstruction, whereas Pérez Galdós, the documentarian novelist, is a mere collector of expressions that distort proper and well-spoken Spanish.

    Such disruptions are thankfully kept to a minimum in this great novel, as is the fustian prose of some of his other works. Everything is subordinated to the story itself, and the characters rarely depart from the frame of action proper to them, pushing the novel forward at a slow and steady pace. Even the secondary characters fulfill very precise functions. Consider the magnificently rendered Placido Estupiñá, the eternal chaperone of ladies out doing their shopping — we would call him a walker — with his almost clinical need to talk and be heard. Without such people, the novel would not be what it is. Another unforgettable creature is Doña Guillermina — the saintess, as she is known — a woman of aristocratic origins who has dedicated her life to doing good, that is to say, to squeezing every wealthy person she knows for funds for a building under construction where wayward youth will be put on the right track. In her spare time, she goes around offering counsel and aid to victims of poverty. Generous and selfless, she gives her life to the cause of helping others, doing good in the Christian sense of the term.

    The novel is rich with evidence of its author’s human sensitivities — for example, in a chapter called “A Visit to the Slums,” we have this, in Agnes Moncy Gullon’s translation, about the defeated Izquierdo: 

    The most peculiar thing is that in his sadness he heard a sweet voice whispering: “You’re good for something….Don’t let yourself be dragged down….” But he couldn’t be persuaded. “If a man could tell me,” he thought to himself, “what the hell this mess of a man is good for, I’d love ‘im to death, love ‘im more than my own father.” The unfortunate man was, like many other beings who spend most of their life out of place, drifting, drifting, without ever stopping in the square on the chessboard that fate has marked for them. Some die never reaching it.

    But “Plato” finally finds his place and achieves success as a model for contemporary historical painters. And Pérez Galdós comments: “There is no human being, no matter how despicable he may have been, who cannot stand out in something.”

    Or consider the fineness of this passage about the inner volatility of Fortunata:

    During the first few days she went through hours of intense melancholy in which her conscience, together with her memory, vividly presented to her all the wrong things she had ever done, particularly getting married and committing adultery only a few hours later. But suddenly, without a clue as to how or why, everything turned inside out in the unknown depths of her soul, and her acts seemed clean, and clear, and firm. She judged herself and found that she was guiltless, innocent of all the evil that had ensued, as if she had acted on impulses dictated to her by some strange, superior entity…..Her conscience spun on an axis that showed her first the white side, then the black. At times this abrupt rotation depended on a word, a whimsical thought that flew into her head like a bird whisking across the immensity of the sky. Fortunata stopped thinking of herself as an evil monster and suddenly felt like an innocent, unfortunate creature. A leaf falling from an already withered stalk and landing silently on the rug could cause the change, or the neighbor’s canary starting to sing, or an unidentified carriage rumbling noisily down the street.

    There is a general mood or atmosphere in Fortunata and Jacinta that reveals the character of its author: comprehending, tolerant, always looking to understand rather than to judge the conduct of others, the moral sphere they move in, their beliefs, fixations, and obsessions, softening their defects while emphasizing their virtues. And so, despite the horrors that it recounts, the novel is no more pessimistic or dark than life itself. Notwithstanding the hopelessness and the pain that appear in its pages, Fortunata and Jacinta portrays existence as full of light, comprising more happiness than sorrow. The author’s temperament seeps into the characters — all of them, with the exception of Mauricia the Hard — who remain optimistic about life throughout the harsh situations that they find themselves in. This is one of the great merits of the book, and of Pérez Galdós’ novels, plays, and essays in general.

    The description of Spanish society that emerges here is one of decadence in comparison with the European nations which, at the time, were undergoing an industrialization that would change the nature of capitalism, raising incomes and promoting workers’ rights even as Spain was left behind, its antiquated economy still the fruit of agrarian exploitation and a commerce that depended on inherited wealth, state-backed speculation, or — in the case of Torquemada, who will appear briefly here but will take a starring role in future novels — outright usury. Missing out on the industrial revolution that would propel its neighbors toward the future, Spain remained mired in a gargantuan bureaucracy packed with well-connected layabouts who only showed up to their respective ministries on payday. Spain’s decadence, which many trace to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, truly took root in the nineteenth century, as Pérez Galdós’ vast novel shows. In it, he points out, among much else, the antiquated nature of Spain’s political system, its social anachronisms, how far the political and economic elite have strayed from the common people who form the crux of the novel, and the country’s underdevelopment in relation to many of its European neighbors.

    In such circumstances, it was inevitable that the venerable Spanish Empire would cease to stand at the head of Europe, as it had for centuries, becoming — and this, perhaps, is the central lesson to be drawn from the political and social standpoint that dominates Fortunata and Jacinta — a backward picturesque land, a reminder to European artists and travelers of “beautiful and ancient” customs, with bullfights, flamenco, and Andalusian bandits: an exotic vision of Old Europe appropriate for literary fictions, such as Prosper Mérimée’s Carmen, which was read far and wide. 

    Oddly, the critics were silent when Fortunata and Jacinta appeared. This stung Pérez Galdós, who complained in a letter to his friend Leopoldo Alas: “By then I had forgotten ever having written such a work, given the dreadful silence that befalls every product of the imagination here that is not La Gran Vía,” referring to the main thoroughfare, the Broadway, of Madrid. Time, however, put paid to that silence, so much so that the sole rival to Fortunata and Jacinta in the scholarly study of Spanish literature is Don Quixote itself.

    Was Pérez Galdós a great writer? He was. It would be too much to compare him artistically to Cervantes, nor was rivaling Cervantes his ambition; but in the nineteenth century, and even into the beginning of the twentieth, none among his compatriots had the dedication, the inventiveness, the enthusiasm, the powers of observation, and the literary gifts of Pérez Galdós. Not to mention his stamina and his persistence: not one of his contemporaries has left behind a body of work as monumental as his. 

    It is true that, with the exception of Valle-Inclán and Azorín (the nom de plume of Jose Martinez Ruiz), there were no great writers in Spain during this period, but this dearth in no way undermines Pérez Galdós’ achievement. Even if, like all writers, he had his low points, these only draw one’s attention to the grandeur of his successes, particularly in his best novels and plays. That said, he was not an innovative writer, one who opened roads through which other writers could discover their voice. He was, rather, a hugely talented follower of the great serial novelists of France and England in the nineteenth century. Pérez Galdós would not have existed without Balzac, Zola, Hugo, Dumas, or Dickens, whose Pickwick Papers he translated into Spanish.

    As I have noted, the most surprising and unexpected defect attributable to him is not having assimilated Flaubert’s lessons about the function of the narrator in the novel. This limitation makes many of Pérez Galdós’ novels stretch on too long. In presenting himself as the narrator, he must append an autobiographical thread that runs on and on and on; and at times he forgets his own comments about the sources of the story that he is telling.

    He was uneven, as most writers are, particularly as he refused to rework his texts, preferring superficial corrections and the hasty deletion or insertion of the odd word. The fate of his manuscripts was to be published or put aside; there was no middle point, no question of extended reconsideration and revision. And yet he produced a series of classics: Fortunata and Jacinta, Misericordia, Doña Perfecta, Torquemada at the Stake, Our Friend Manso, and others that even today can be read and admired. And he was no less accomplished a playwright, even if his theater, too, followed his rhythm of alternating masterpieces with works that may be entertaining but are of little or no consequence. It does a write no dishonor to boast of great successes and great failures. Few escape this curse; most hit the mark sometimes and sometimes miss it wildly. In truth, it takes only a single instance of greatness to mark one’s place in the history of literature. And Pérez Galdós managed it several times over.

    Nor ought Pérez Galdós be judged like other authors of his era. With the National Episodes, his art turned in a specifically historical and pedagogical direction that none of his contemporaries followed, and it is to his enormous credit that he brought many significant historical events into the grasp of the broader public in the manner of Hugo or Dumas. He did so with verve, and this makes the best of the Episodes stand tall over many of his other writings. He helped to create an integrated society in which people from different regions, with different customs, came to feel themselves heirs to a common past. Pérez Galdós was the only Spanish writer of his time to contribute to the sense of homeland. In doing so, he carried on the legacy of Cervantes, whose great book has been read and reread by virtually all who have the good fortune to read and write in Spanish, making us all legatees of a common origin, a community epitomizing the greatest virtues of the Spanish and Latin American people, not to mention some of their more visible vices. The solitary Pérez Galdós helped to cement this brotherhood across the seas.

    His polemics regularly hit the mark. Spain’s great problem was its strictness, the implacable character of the Catholic Church with its grim prohibitions and intolerable prejudices. Unlike others in his time, Pérez Galdós seems not to have been a dyed-in-the-wool rebel, let alone a revolutionary. He could even be called a believer in the modern mold, well-versed in the teachings of the church but unable as a matter of liberal principle to accept its intolerance or its high-handed interventions in private and public life. Often his work proposed solutions to social matters that are out of place in a novel or a play — for the rich to redistribute their fortunes to the poor, for example. These critical interpolations speak well of him, even if his solutions themselves were extraordinarily unrealistic.

    Pérez Galdós was typical of the liberals of his time, who had no interest whatsoever in economic realities and proposed solutions to social ills that invariably hinged somehow on religion, and to this degree were divorced from matters as they actually stood. Spain was not the country that would produce the most profound and rigorous notions concerning the elimination of poverty. It did not dream of the equality of opportunity that distinguishes the most advanced societies from the rest. In this regard, British, American, and Austrian economists contributed more than any French or Spanish writer. Pérez Galdós was ahead of his time, though, in being an “engaged” writer, clearly disturbed by the problems of his era and bold enough to plunge before any of his colleagues into the marrow of his country’s tremendous flaw: namely, the immense material difference between the poor and the rich, which he examined in numerous writings. 

    He traveled widely in Europe, and of course across Spain, gathering material for his National Episodes, and he knew a few languages — Italian, a smattering of French and English. He wasn’t much of a reader of foreign literature, and he failed to notice, or to see the significance of, the revolution in the novel initiated by Flaubert that would produce — passing through Joyce on the one hand and the great Russians on the other — something utterly different from and superior to what the genre had been before. He lived until 1920, but there are no traces of modernism in his work. We must read Pérez Galdós as a representative more of the classic novel than of the modern. 

    His limitations are those of the country in which he lived more or less his whole life. He never seriously considered leaving Spain or writing about realities beyond its borders. In his most fertile years as a writer, Spain was isolated from the literary world, and this is reflected in Galdós’ work, in the limitations of his style and his themes. His preoccupation with Spanish history and Spanish tribulations are the source of his reputation, but they show also a certain narrowness, and even symptoms of provincialism. 

    His rejection or ignorance of literary experimentation, of the avant-garde that existed, for example, in Paris, limited the diffusion of his work outside his country. He did contribute to the daily La Prensa in Buenos Aires, and he published a few articles elsewhere in Latin America, but what leapt inevitably to his eyes, what he read every day in the paper at home, what he talked about with his friends, was Spain, and it was natural that this would come to dominate his literary production.

    Yet all this is not to say that he was a conventional writer. Pérez Galdós wrote against the grain, he was calm but not complacent, and he endured attacks from all sides, some of them quite brutal. Years would pass before their intensity would wane, making him a respectable figure and, eventually, a source of pride, someone who would bring honor to Spaniards everywhere. I do not doubt that, among the thousands who attended his funeral, there were many who had attacked him in his younger days. And I do not doubt that some of them regretted it.

    Good People: The New Discipline

    “But Mark, you don’t seem to understand, these are good people. These are all good people.” 

    My interlocutor was a long-time administrator at my university, and an accomplished scholar. In his genial way he was trying to set my straight on some important facts. I had just learned that there would be a new aspect to our annual reports. We would be asked to tell our overlords how each one of our activities contributes to Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion.

    Teaching? How did it advance DEI? Scholarship? How did it help speed DEI on its way? If you get an honor or an award, you are to say how it contributed to Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. Outside consulting: did it do any DEI duty? And what does the university mean by Diversity, by Equity, by Inclusion? The university doesn’t say. There are no official definitions out there to consider. 

    So I had a lot to tell my friend about administrative interference with academic freedom. I didn’t want the university deans and DEI enforcers setting the agenda for my teaching or my scholarship, or for anyone else’s. At the same time, I couldn’t really argue with my friend’s observation: the people in the dean’s office and the DEI enclaves are decent sorts. I like them. Was asking us to apply DEI standards to every aspect of our work a radical piece of over-reach? I think it was, and is: I fought against it at its inception and still do. 

    But I also see the move as part of a larger pattern of enforcing discipline, and that pattern may be more important than any single program or initiative. The good people who came up with this notion are — without knowing it, I suspect — softly tyrannizing us. They are also softly tyrannizing themselves. And what they are up to isn’t only a university matter. It is happening in corporations, medical centers, primary and secondary schools, foundations, and NGOs. Surveillance and discipline, carried out almost exclusively by good people, are becoming pervasive. In this case, the terms employed in that discipline were, ostensibly, progressive. The fact that most faculty members call themselves liberals or progressives makes the exercise more palatable to them. It makes it all seem virtuous. But it’s possible that the terms in play mean less than the process of ever-tightening scrutiny and control that is becoming a part of almost every enterprise that is administered by the good people of the world. They are “squeezing our shoes,” to borrow a phrase from David Foster Wallace, and getting their own shoes squeezed in the bargain. 

    The deans are good people, the DEI office is full of good people, the HR building’s no doubt populated by decent characters. And all these people are not ideologues. OK, some of them are virtue exhibitionists who put those In-Our-Family-We-Believe-That signs in front of their houses. And some get all misty when they say the word “black,” but probably not many, and even those who do have their virtues.

    Reactionaries think that a major plot, a real conspiracy, is afoot in the universities, and in the corporations too, to turn everyone into a lockstep leftist. There’s a tablespoon of truth in that. But I think that indoctrination to an ideology may not be the main issue here, not quite. People tune out professional droners. They make stuff up to fill in the Diversity square on the application. They mock the literal-minded hacks who spew institution-speak into the air like sterile seeds. When questioned they obtain services from the consulting firm of Duck and Hide. Subtly, quietly, you can evade the ideological indoctrination. But that is not the end of it. There is a dimension to institutional life now that is probably more consequential (and more pernicious), and that you cannot evade. You must participate in this part of the endeavor, as both subject and object.

    “I hate the builders of dungeons in the air.” 

    That is Ralph Waldo Emerson gently venting his disapproval at knee-jerk pessimists. He is not enamored of those who build castles in the air either, but Emerson, who has a predilection for hope, has no time for the born and bred nay-sayers. I have for some time put Michel Foucault in the category of the airy dungeon builders. He is the pessimist’s pessimist, the well-known theorist who sees no hope, or very, very little. Foucault believes that the world has changed markedly since, say, the early twentieth century, and that we are now beset with a different and relatively novel kind of oppression. It is an oppression, one might say, administered by “good people.” 

    In his person, Foucault was a bit of an enigma. His photos display a man with a shaved dome, techy glasses that give him something of a fiendish face, and an x-ray glare. He comes off as the post-human anchorite of scholarship, a creature of sub-basement archives, yellowing manuscripts, and discarded record books. He looks like an unforgiving android. In person, however, matters seem to have been different. His friend Simeon Wade, who wrote Foucault in California, clearly adores Foucault, but is also prone to candor. The master, he says, was giggly, naïve, especially about sex; and rather scared of women and girls.

    Me? I have greatly admired his major work, Discipline and Punish, though the admiration has faded a bit over time, and generally I find his programmatic pessimism distasteful. The problem is that, however distasteful Foucault’s vision is, just now it is coming true. Something has changed to make Foucault’s vision far more applicable than it was when he published his work thirty and forty years ago. Foucault knows the good people — in academia, in business, in the foundations, in the museums — a good deal better than they know themselves.

    My libertarian friends, my one-time hippie friends, seethe at the imposition of the DEI regulations, the diversity workshops, the mandatory displays of righteousness in which nothing is righted. They hate it. They see a lot of it as moral exhibitionism and pointless pseudo-reform. The formidable Marxist writer Adolph Reed has observed that the effect of the recent “racial reckoning” in America is to diversify the top ten percent income earners. And maybe he’s right. The black kid who didn’t get a breakfast before the reckoning is probably still not getting a breakfast. My friends see the new dispensation as purely gestural, as a protracted pantomime, shoe-squeezing to no purpose at all. I sympathize with their view, but I part company in my growing conviction that it’s more than a pantomime, quite a bit more.

    How does power work? In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries we thought we knew. Freud knew, Marx knew, the American revolutionaries knew. Power comes from the top down. Power come from the king, the nobles, the bourgeoisie. Or alternately, power comes from the punitive super-ego, the agency within the psyche that tyrannizes the individual with impossible demands, then punishes him for not fulfilling them. The super-ego stands metaphorically atop the hapless ego — power from above.

    But maybe things have changed. In an interview in 1979 called “Truth and Power,” Foucault declares that we still need to cut the off the king’s head — in political theory that still has not been done. His remark doesn’t mean exactly what it seems to mean. He is not thinking of doing away with top-down power, he is telling us that we need to forget that kind of power, because it is obsolete. There is no more taking the king to the guillotine, no further need to storm the Bastille.

    Instead, we find ourselves within a web of power whose influence is everywhere and whose center is nowhere. And who administers this power? Not the king, or the duke. And not even — this will matter in what’s coming — the president. Power is now administered by everyone in what we might call an administrative position. The ones who design, vet, and disseminate the mandatory work surveys; the ones who have a hand, or just a finger, in getting the annual reports out to the workforce, whether a faculty or a corporate population; they are the ones who evaluate the students for intelligence, grade them for performance, collect data on their likes and dislikes. These administrators of power include marketing people and advertising people and public relations people — all the people who count and characterize, and whose work manages to shape the lives of their subjects.

    All these people — most of whom are no doubt good people — are watched and counted and measured in turn. Do some have more disciplinary power than others? Do some have more surveillance power? Maybe — but it probably doesn’t really feel that way to any individual. They are just doing their jobs. A certain amount of such bureaucratic calculation and observation is critical to the functioning of a mass society, certainly. Yet I think the collective effect of these jobs done by good people is more discipline. The collective effect is less freedom. One is observed more. One is judged more. 

    The goodness of these good people is of a rather limited sort. When I was a boy, getting a Catholic education at the Sacred Hearts Church in Malden, Massachusetts, I learned that there were two kinds of sins. First there were sins of commission. These were bad deeds that you enacted and told the priest about at confession. “I lied”; “I cheated”; “I stole.” But there were also sins of omission. You missed mass; you neglected to be kind to an aging parent or grandparent; you didn’t share what you had. It seems to me that most “good people” now excel at avoiding sins of commission. They don’t drink to excess. They don’t have affairs. They don’t cheat (much) on their taxes. They never use the terrifying “n-word,” and are reluctant even to say “Negro,” lest someone somehow might take offense. But I think you’ll find sins of omission among them in plenty: turning their backs on a maligned friend; not standing up against administrative over-reach at work; not saying the necessary, unpopular word. In our on-line culture it is easy to be busted for stepping forward at the right-wrong time. Good people tend to avoid doing so. Could you achieve grace by simply avoiding sins of commission? The word at Sacred Hearts church was that you could not.

    When you read Foucault’s interview, it seems like he must have been speaking during the flourishing of Internet culture. For there is no device that augments discipline in the way that the Internet does. Here’s another form — fill it in, get it back fast — repeat ad nauseam. But this is not the case. Foucault seems to have taken his teacher Derrida’s view of signification, a web without a center, and applied it to social control. One is inclined to say that Foucault simply got lucky in securing his prophetic status — but intuition does count in intellectual life and Foucault, who seemed to be about as non-intuitive a person in everyday life as one can imagine, simply nailed it. We may have thought that we had assimilated all of Foucault’s thinking, but the truth is that reality has now caught up with him, to the extent that he is fully relevant, and painfully so, again.

    Does everyone exert discipline? Does everyone not only exist in the web but also do the work of the web? I think there is a simple answer to this important question. The answer is no. If you went to college and have a job, you probably do the work of the web. If you didn’t go to college, you may do web work with your small business, but probably you don’t. If you did not attend college and if you do not sit down every day at a computer to do your web work, then you are probably an object of discipline and surveillance, but not a frequent practitioner. (You probably also voted for Trump, but more on that anon.) Those who work the web are also its objects—that goes without saying. The observers are observed.

    What are the terms of observation — what are the terms of discipline? I think we can confidently say that they have grown exponentially since Foucault’s time, but what he saw and said still has its validity. Michael Walzer once observed that much of Foucault’s work can be considered as an elaborate pun on the word “discipline.” In its first sense, discipline means controlling people; it means determining the shapes of their lives: where they can live and how, where they can go and where they cannot. It means getting them to show up and sit with their legs beneath their desks and to pay attention. But it also means letting them know who and what they are and getting them to believe it.

    That’s where the second denotation of discipline comes in. Those branches of knowledge that we broadly call the human sciences — sociology, medical science, criminology, psychology, the study of sexuality, certain varieties of historical scholarship, and the rest — are all about establishing norms. The criminologist will tell you who the delinquent is, and how the criminal comes to be; the psychologist will offer portraits of aberrant behavior; the sociologist will tell you how relatively socialized people behave in groups. These definitions and characterizations have a couple of dimensions: they are subtly prescriptive in that by telling us what unorthodox behavior is and how it comes into existence, they also tell us what orthodox or normative behavior can and should be. The disciplines help to discipline. They also point a scientific or pseudo-scientific finger at the outsiders. They stigmatize the ones who cannot or will not conform.

    Foucault, who is claimed as a paragon of gay liberation, would detest the process by which one becomes identical with one’s sexual practices. Sexuality is not identity. Or to put it better, affirming someone’s sexual identity, even one’s own, as a central aspect of human essence is a form of coercive discipline. All forms of identity that draw on the intellectual disciplines are at the very least suspect, and some are outright anathema. 

    In Foucault’s day, the chief means of extending discipline was through institutions. You were shaped and sized by the school, the church, the prison, the military, the government, and they did an effective enough job of it. Now power disseminates itself also through the Internet. It’s much harder to run, much harder to hide. You’ve got to fill out those forms, take that test, be the objective of a given assessment. Internet discipline can be far more effective, comprehensive, and unavoidable than pre-Internet discipline ever was. And the powers who are not really powers, the good people, can demand much more of you (and have more demanded of themselves in turn). My annual report used to consist in a typed page. Now it is about fifteen electronic pages. I will now be rated on a scale of one to ten in nine different categories. And I, as a professor, abide in one of the freest jobs there is.

    It will become more confined and confining over time, for those who are paid to enforce discipline must justify their positions by making ever more disciplinary demands. If they simple left matters as they were, the computers would do their work, and they would be replaceable. In time, discipline will make its way into every interstice of life, for that is the logic of network power. The regulations for sexuality within institutions, say, will become more comprehensive, detailed, and bizarre. A preview of coming attractions can be found in my own university’s rules about sado-masochistic sex undertaken by members of our community. “When parties consent to BDSM 3, or other forms of kink, non-consent may be shown by the use of a safe word, whereas actions and words that may signal non-consent in non-kink situations, such as force or violence, may be deemed signals of consent.” No, I did not make it up. And yes, the combination of liberal tolerance for apparent erotic extravagance and disciplinary control by the institution are emblematic of the present, and of things to come. There is virtually nothing that the Internet and the good people, acting in consort, cannot observe, discipline, and attempt to control.

    And yet these new developments will seem liberal, even liberating. The fact that the idiom of the corporation is now rhetorically progressive — Diversity! Equity! Inclusion! — is not without meaning. The enlightened words blur and confuse our perception of what is really going on — the incontrovertible fact of using these terms to exert not freedom but discipline. Someday the terms may be Family, Flag, and Faith. That, too, will matter. The diffused structure of contemporary power is compatible with many worldviews, or with none at all. What will matter more is the use of these terms to measure, evaluate, and “understand” people. What will matter will be the power of discipline, to curtail freedom.

    Perhaps you truly think that Nike and Apple and Google deeply care about progressive policies. You are wrong. What they care about is gaining control over their workforce and making as much money as possible. If the terms of art were Family and Flag, they would pretend to endorse them, too. The employees in HR and some of the idealistic young may think that they are doing social good in the world. They are wrong. They are using the terms of liberation to bring more and more free people closer to mental serfdom. Some day they will awaken in a cage of their own devising, so harshly confining that even they, drunk on their own virtue, will have to notice how their lives are the lives of snails tucked in their shells. By that time, there may not be anything to do about it. They will be the once willing slaves of the new super-rich; they will be the principals of their own subjection, the masters of their own enslaved selves. 

    My neighbor a little less than a half mile down the road has a Confederate flag fastened to the side of his house. The flag is so old and worn now that it is hard to identify, but I have seen it there from the start, even before the election of Trump. My neighbor drives a pick-up truck, a little rusty, with his dog, an agreeable mutt, riding shotgun, hanging his tongue out the window to taste the air. I walk along our dirt road sometimes, and I see him, and we talk. He hates the government; he hates Washington; he hates what America has come to. We agree on nothing — I’m Bernie 2016, 2020, 2024 and ‘28 if his lips are still moving — so we disagree on a good deal.

    When he drives slowly, careful not to fill my face with road dust, I see the lines that he has painted on the back of his truck by hand: “Don’t let goddam liberals, run your fucken life.” My neighbor doesn’t have email, he doesn’t use a cell phone as far as I know, and he wouldn’t be likely to pump anything approximating personal information into a computer. Still, he knows what we all do: he is on the grid, under discipline, an object of power. When he tells the world not to let liberals run your life, he means what he says. Don’t listen to Biden and Ocasio-Cortez and don’t take cues from the bien pensant gang at the university. What he wants, it seems, is to reclaim the country.

    If so, he’s not alone. Many people on what is called the right want to recapture the center of power and get things straightened out. Trump may have been on the way to doing that, they think, but he probably didn’t have quite enough time. What we need now is to repossess the center of power. We tried to do it on the sixth of January—or at least half-way tried—and it just slipped through our hands. Soon, soon, we’ll possess the palace, and all will be well, or at least a whole lot better.

    Some people, maybe my neighbor included, want to see the January 6 attack on the Capitol as something akin to the storming of the Bastille. They see it as an attempt to reclaim a node of illegitimate power — in fact, it is the node of illegitimate power, akin to Pandemonium, the palace that Satan built in Milton’s hell. The rebels, or pseudo-rebels, seem to believe that they are living in the eighteenth or nineteenth century, when you could depose the king or the czar and achieve real freedom. They think that replacing one chief executive with another will transform their lives and make them free — free from the chickenshit liberals who are always finding new ways to deploy their computers and their techniques of discipline and surveillance to run and ruin the lives of ordinary people. I am far from saying that it does not matter who the president of the United States is, but it may not matter nearly as much as the characters waving Trump flags, wearing MAGA hats, and fuming about the stolen election imagine.

    In truth, there is no center of power to take possession of. If Trump wins the next election, the forces of discipline, which are deployed by no one, in the interest of no one, will continue to compound themselves. The college-educated will get to push more of the buttons, but they too will be subjects of discipline, constantly evaluated, scrutinized, regimented, and regulated. At least they will feel as though they possess some power and some dignity. The non-college group, by contrast, will stroke many fewer keys and see that their lives are being run, though they will think they are being run by those goddam liberals, not by the disciplinary regime. They will not recognize the power that expands for its own sake and functions, finally, for nothing and no one. Its only interest is its own blind growth. And they will continue with a pre-Foucauldian sense of how power works, as will the college-created crowd, though they will probably think less about it, feeling as though they are in some measure in charge, and being well remunerated for it. If you jockey the computer, you are enslaved by the matrix; and if you do not computer jockey you are also enslaved, though you may have a more developed sense that something is way off.

    In The Age of Surveillance Capitalism, Shoshana Zuboff shows how corporations have not only collected data from us all but used that data to influence and shape our behavior. And they have done so, according to Zuboff, in search of profit. Maybe so. But it seems to me that the constant exercise of disciplinary power beyond a certain point profits no one. Rather, disciplinary power expands with what seems a will of its own. Socialism, communism, communitarianism, environmentalism, what have you: no alternative to capitalism would inevitably unseat disciplinary power.

    Journalists spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the people who stormed the Capitol had in common. Education — yes, but not much college; more or less of rural and suburban origins. But there was something else, too, something that I find illuminating. Many of them, perhaps half, had experienced financial troubles. They had lost a house, gone bankrupt, had the loan company’s wolf at their door. Now in America, given the power grid, you cannot run and hide from debt. If you owe, you will pay, or you will pay for not paying. Your interest and fees will compound and compound. You will be chased from post to pillar and back, and the stringent bankruptcy laws will keep you in play. You may not go to debtors’ prison, but other forms of confinement will find you. Once the machines are onto you, once they have all your account information, they will never let up. And this is so especially if you are maladroit online.

    The explosion of conspiracy theories on the right may be a loud literalization of the feeling that something is out to get us — that it is invisible and weird and knows where you live. Run afoul of the disciplinary regime in its financial guise and you are righteously screwed. The good people will have you in their power, though of course the good people are out oppressing each other to beat the band. The stolen election trope restores a sense of assurance about who the enemy is and what might be done about it. This sense of assurance is spectacularly false.

    Now is the time for a set of bracing solutions to the ever-clenching disciplinary web that we live in. I haven’t got any. Still, I do have a prediction that is not entirely pessimistic. In time, people will begin to sense that there is something rotten in the disciplinary regime — that power is growing and growing and serving nothing but itself. They may never become articulate about this perception—they may experience it on a gut level and that’s all. But slowly the cultural weather will shift. Those who spend all day on their computers will begin to be derided as dupes. Walking down the street fooling with your iPhone will mark you out as a clown. People will leave the glowing, sterile silver world of their computers for the green world out their windows. They will spend a day, then a week, then a month, barely stroking a key. They will find better things to do. And the dragon will begin to starve for want of what feeds it, which is our time, and our willingness to watch and be watched.

    This will not happen tomorrow, but I believe it will happen. During the height of the plague many people left their jobs, skipped their appointments with the physician and the shrink, stopped answering their phones, fumbled, accidentally on purpose, their Zoom accounts, and without knowing it consciously said no to discipline. Some of those people simply never came back. Soon, but alas not too soon, many of the rest of us may well be joining them.

    Large Empty Bowl

    sitting in the bower
    after lunch with
    my sadness 

    like unto Magdalene
    our defectiveness known all around
    the town 

    (a passion for extravagant apology)
    (flimsy promise to do better from now on) 

    I knew the crowd had stones
    heating the hollows of their hands

    (the teacher has always shown me
    the underlying structure of

    a situation, though often
    years after I no longer cared, was
    no longer there, at all)

    stone and bread are alike
    in the hands of the just

    bread and stone the same

    Two Concepts of God

    For Moshe Idel

    Since the very inception of their discipline, scholars of Kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism, have tried to define the object of their study based on its supposed relationship to myth. Gershom Scholem viewed the rise of Kabbalah in the Middle Ages as the return — with a vengeance — of myth. After having been repressed by Biblical and rabbinic traditions, it reemerged, cloaked in mystery and veiled in esotericism, to insinuate itself into the heart of Judaism, from which it would dictate the future of Jewish thought and history. Another school of thought, led by Moshe Idel and Yehuda Liebes, has denied that myth had ever been absent from Judaism, and has traced lines of continuity from the kabbalistic mythos to elements already present in the canonical texts of ancient Judaism. Whatever the precise relationship between myth and Kabbalah, medieval Jewish philosophy has been presented in no uncertain terms as Kabbalah’s nemesis. Under the influence of Maimonides, who defined much of its agenda, Jewish philosophy sought to purify God of any trace of anthropomorphism and to systematically eradicate any mythic elements from Jewish tradition. According to this account, then, the twelfth and thirteenth centuries saw the rise of two movements with diametrically opposed relationships to myth: Kabbalah and Jewish philosophy. The kabbalists are said to have had the upper hand because they tapped into the primordial wellsprings of myth and irrigated every corner of Jewish existence from it, while the philosophers uprooted Judaism from its source of vitality and turned it into an alienated and abstract religious culture.

    Scholem conceived of this contest as a medieval precursor of the great cultural clash between Romanticism and the Enlightenment in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The conceptual framework that he used to analyze Kabbalah borrowed considerably from the way Romanticism imagined itself in relation to the Enlightenment — that is, as a more authentic and exciting alternative to the aridities of reason. In this way, a broad cultural conflict from modernity was projected backward onto medieval Judaism and considered to be the key to elucidating its driving forces.

    This historical account has become the dominant way of thinking about Kabbalah, even as the debate over the connection between kabbalistic myth and earlier strands of Jewish thought continues. There is no question that its broad outlines are well grounded in the sources and that it has contributed greatly to our understanding of Jewish intellectual and cultural history. But it is not the whole story. It seems to me worthwhile to present another way of thinking about these issues, an alternative conceptual framework that will help us get a fuller view of the Kabbalistic phenomenon itself, and will situate Kabbalah’s relationship to medieval Jewish philosophy in a different and added context. Indeed, the implications of this different view extend beyond the confines of Jewish religion to the more universal and fundamental question of how we may think about the nature of divinity itself. 

    I would like to propose a contrast between two conceptions of the deity: God as a personality and God as a being. Each one provides utterly different ways of accounting for existence and for the religious posture. When categorizing the two medieval Jewish movements according to this criterion, a surprising result emerges: philosophy and Kabbalah, hitherto regarded as spiritual and intellectual opposites, turn out to be part of the same massive conceptual and religious shift. Together they reject the notion of God as a personality for that of God as being. To put it another way, they replace God with the Godhead. One may have personal relations with God, but not with the Godhead, which in Kabbalah is a multifaced and dynamic structure, a system of divine reality.

    In the biblical tradition, God is a relational subject who enters into a covenant with the Israelites. The history of this people, with all its ups and downs, is interpreted in terms of the straining and strengthening of a complicated relationship between the divine personality and Israel, which is marked by love and tested by betrayal. (The Biblical conception of God as a personality was most richly explored by the late Yohanan Muffs.) Similarly, for all its vastness and its multiplicity of genres, rabbinic literature everywhere exhibits the same basic perception of God as a personality entangled in a web of relationships with humans and the Jewish people. Not only does the biblical anthropomorphic conception of God not trouble the Sages, but they broaden and deepen it. 

    A midrash in Mekhilta de-Rabbi Yishmael, an ancient collection of rabbinical commentaries on the Book of Exodus that was redacted in the third century CE, helps to highlight the monumental disparity between the concerns of the ancient rabbis and those of their medieval successors. It concerns verse twenty-one in chapter thirteen, “The Lord would go in front of them by day [in a pillar of cloud, and by night in a pillar of fire],” about which it remarks:

    Is it possible to say this? But it already says, “Do I not fill heaven and earth — declares the Lord” (Jer. 23:24); and it is written, “And one called to the other and said, ‘Holy, Holy, Holy [is the Lord of Hosts], His glory fills the entire earth’” (Isa. 6:3); and it says, “Behold, the glory of the God of Israel came from the way of the east; and His voice was like the sound of many waters; and the earth was illuminated by His glory” (Ezek. 43:2). What is the meaning of “The Lord would go in front of them by day”? 

    Rabbi [Yehuda Ha-Nasi, or Judah the Prince] said: Sometimes the Emperor Antoninus would hold court on the dais until it grew dark, and his sons would remain with him. After leaving the dais, he would hold the lantern and light the way for his sons. Imperial dignitaries would approach him and say, “Let us hold the lantern and light the way for your sons.” But he would say to them, “No. It’s not that I have no one to hold the lantern and light the way for my sons, but that I am showing you how dear my children are so that you accord them honor.” Thus did the Holy One show the nations of the world how dear Israel is, so that they would accord them honor.

    At first glance, this midrash seems troubled by the kind of metaphysical problem that exercised medieval Bible commentators: How can a deity who fills the entire world be constricted to a cloud or a fire? In the twelfth century, Abraham Ibn Ezra sought to defuse the problem by claiming that God was not actually within the cloud or the fire, and that Scripture only makes it seem so because those phenomena are manifestations of His power. 

    A closer look, however, reveals that Rabbi Yehuda’s parable about the Roman emperor — the ancient Jewish tradition frequently compares divinity to kingship — is addressing another question altogether. Instead of wondering how an infinite deity can be confined to a finite physical space, the midrash wants to know why almighty God decided to lead the Israelites in a pillar of cloud and fire, when He could have sent any of his hosts of messengers to do His bidding or gone forth Himself in all His resplendent glory. Rabbi Yehuda answers that God, like the Emperor Antoninus, chose to show His children the way Himself, not because He had no capable agents but to demonstrate His burning love for His children. And if he had brought His royal retinue, the message would have been lost on the overawed observers. 

    To elucidate the parable, let us consider a more contemporary story. A country is hosting a foreign president, and instead of booking him a presidential suite at its most luxurious hotel, it puts him up in a hostel. The resulting scandal about the country’s treatment of the president does not broach any questions of metaphysics; it’s not as if they tried to defy the laws of nature and squeeze the president into a matchbox. It is, rather, the unseemliness of it that makes headlines. As far as the above midrash is concerned, God can obviously manifest Himself in any way that He deems fit, even in a pillar of cloud or fire. It is asking instead about the appropriateness of the chosen form. One would think that a god whose glory permeates the cosmos would make more of an impression. This is the difficulty that Rabbi Yehuda’s parable addresses.

    Mekhilta de-Rabbi Yishmael raises a similar question about God’s revelation to Moses through the burning bush. Again, the Sages desire to know why God would reveal Himself to Moses through a homely, prickly bush in the wilderness instead of in a more grandiose display befitting His majesty. One of the answers given is that God wanted to convey that He, too, suffered the pain of slavery experienced by the Israelites, like a bird caught in a thorny thicket:

    Moses was tending the flock… And the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a blazing fire out of the midst of a bush” (Ex. 3:1—2). Rabbi Shimon b. Yohai says: Why did the Holy One reveal Himself from on high and speak to Moses out of the midst of a bush? Just as this bush is more brutal than every other tree, so that a bird which enters it cannot escape intact, having been cut to pieces, so too the slavery of Egypt is more brutal for God than every other slavery. 

    A different interpretation: “Out of the midst of a bush” (Ex. 3:2). 

    Rabbi Yehoshua says: Why did the Holy One reveal Himself from on high and speak to Moses out of the midst of a bush? For whenever Israel is in distress, it as is if He is distressed, as it says, “In all their troubles He was troubled” (Isa. 63:9). […] And thus would R. Yehoshua say: Come see how great are the mercies and beneficences of the Holy One upon Israel! They went down to Egypt, and the Shekhina (divine presence) was with them, as it says, “I will go down with you to Egypt” (Gen. 46:4); they went up [from Egypt], and the Shekhina was with them, as it says, “and I will bring you back up” (ibid.); they went down to the sea, and the Shekhina was with them, as it says, “And the angel of God traveled” (Ex. 14:19); they came to the wilderness, and the Shekhina was with them, as it says, “and in the wilderness, where you saw how the Lord your God carried you” (Deut. 1:31); until they came to the Temple. They experience suffering, and He, as it were, experiences the suffering with them, “out of the midst of a bush”; they experience relief, and He experiences relief with them, as it says, “To behold the prosperity of Your chosen ones, to rejoice in the gladness of Your nation, to glory in Your inheritance” (Ps. 106:5).

    This midrash contains one of the important innovations in the anthropomorphic religious thinking of the Sages: God suffers when the Jewish people suffer. Attuned to the nuances of divine self-revelation across Scripture, the midrash discerns in the unusual appearance of God in a scrubland bush an expression of divine empathy for the Israelite plight.

    The Bible maps the relationship between God and humans onto a few hierarchical human relationships: father and son, husband and wife, judge and accused, king and subject. The Sages then contribute new relational categories to this anthropomorphic foundation, including teacher and disciple, homeowner and laborer, patron and client. These capture and accentuate subtleties in the religious relations. Even more so: while in Scripture, God is the more powerful figure in the hierarchy and Israel the less, at times the Midrash brazenly reverses the balance of power in its human analogies, so that Israel or a human is the master, husband, or judge and God the servant, wife, or accused. In addition, the midrashic imagination does not limit itself to the Bible’s verticality. It envisions horizontal relationships that are non-hierarchical and intensely intimate, such as exist between twins or friends. The sheer creativity of the ancient sages is not evidenced, then, by exegetical acrobatics to minimize God’s anthropomorphism, but by the endeavor to look exhaustively at all relations between human beings to better grasp and give meaning to the religious relationship with God. 

    This core religious sensibility of the Bible and the Midrash, which perceives God as a relational subject, met fierce opposition in the Middle Ages. The Maimonidean philosophical concept of God denounced as idolatrous any attribution to God of emotional states and personal characteristics. In this account, God’s transcendence defies any analogy to the human realm, a transcendence that reaches its height in the denial of the capacity of language altogether to serve as a proper medium for the attainment of any knowledge concerning God. This philosophical conception of God, which was tremendously influential among Jewish thinkers (and non-Jewish thinkers too, such as Aquinas) had the effect of usurping a robustly personal God with an austerely metaphysical God. Dramatic narrative was replaced by abiding ontology. What has not been sufficiently documented, and what I will try show below, is that the dramatic shift from God-as-personality to God-as-being was also the hallmark of medieval Kabbalah. This is true, to borrow Moshe Idel’s broad characterizations, both of ecstatic-prophetic Kabbalah and theosophical-theurgical Kabbalah.

    Ecstatic-prophetic Kabbalah focuses on the development and use of mystical techniques to attain unification with God. As Idel has shown, the pinnacle of this kabbalistic striving is the experience of unio mystica, the absolute assimilation of the individual into the Godhead, to the point of ontological identity. The aspiring mystic achieves this by shedding his individuality and personality, by turning the ego (ani) into naught (ayin). (The Hebrew words are anagrams of each other.) In the Kabbalah of Nahmanides in the thirteenth century in Catalonia, union with God depends on a complete negation of the human will, because the will is what individualizes a human as a being separate from God. In other traditions, the negation of the ego is achieved by completely emptying the consciousness of certain particularizing elements. And to match the mystic who strips himself of all personal qualities, the deity with whom he merges is not personality but an all-encompassing being. The crowning attainment of the ecstatic kabbalist is the dissolution of the ontological distance between humans and God, the very space necessary for interpersonal relations to exist. For this reason, in his moment of spiritual ecstasy, as he is enveloped by God, the mystic does not — cannot — interact with God in any human sense. 

    These mystical traditions that reject the conception of God as a personality clothe their longing for union with God in the traditional notion of devekut, or “cleaving” to God — but this never before meant a nullification of the self or a complete melding with the divine being. In Scripture and in classical rabbinical literature, cleaving to God entails limitless devotion to the word of God and following in His footsteps. Drawing close to God, for the Sages, means being on the most intimate terms with God, but it certainly does not mean overcoming the ontological gulf that separates humanity and divinity. Note how the Midrash interprets the verse in Numbers about the human who drew as close as humanly possible to God:

    “Not so with My servant Moses; he is trusted throughout My household. With him I speak mouth to mouth, in a vision and not in riddles, and he beholds the likeness of the Lord.” (Num. 12:7—8) Rabbi Pinhas said in the name of Rabbi Hoshaya: “And he beholds the likeness of the Lord” — it is comparable to a king who reveals himself to a member of his household in his linen garment. 

    Moses’s extraordinary closeness to God is expressed in the language of familiarity and intimacy. He is like a member of a royal household who is privy to see the king in his undershirt, divested of the trappings of royalty and with his guard down. But the kabbalistic notion of cleaving, in which one cannot tell where the mystic ends and God begins, does not allow for intimacy, because intimacy is something that exists between distinct persons. (Many centuries later this preference for being over personality was reversed by Martin Buber in his dialogical account of human interaction with the divine.) The fact that the ultimate religious attainment for these kabbalists has changed from intimacy with God to losing oneself in Him perfectly encapsulates the reconceptualization of the divine personality as an apersonal being. 

    A similar and no less significant transition occurs in theosophical-theurgic Kabbalah. This school of mystical thought introduces two new fundamental ideas about God, both of which end up effacing the divine personality. The first is a dualistic conception of God: the hidden and unknowable deus absconditus, and the manifest divine potencies emanated from the former’s innermost depths. The concealed dimension of the Godhead, which is termed “Absolute Privation” (ha-afisa ha-mucḥletet) in Nahmanidean Kabbalah and “the Infinite” (Ein-Sof) in other kabbalistic thought, is utterly apersonal and has no characteristics. It is being so pristine and pure that the particularizations of language and the categorizations of cognition slip right off it. It is important to stress that this aspect of the Godhead, which scholars generally identify with Maimonides’ philosophically purified God, is nowhere to be found in rabbinic literature. The ancient sages consider God a personality through and through; they posited no apersonal dimension in His being.

    A fine illustration of this significant gap between the rabbinic Midrash and the understandings of the Middle Ages can be seen in their respective interpretations of the very first words of the Bible: “In the beginning (be-reshit), God created” (Gen. 1:1). One would expect God’s book to begin with a reference to Himself: God created, in the beginning,…. So why, the question is asked, doesn’t God appear first? According to the kabbalists, this semantic ordering signifies that the true Creator God, the hidden dimension of the divine Naught, cannot be expressed in language. Out of this infinite Nothingness the sefirot, the elements of the godhead, emerge, and the first word of the verse, be-reshit, is actually an allusion to the first knowable sefirah called Chokhma, or Wisdom. The rest of the words in the verse allude to the other sefirot according to their order of descending emanation and increasing particularization. A critical step in transforming God from a personality to a being is the positing of a hidden, unfathomably pure existent of sui generis oneness, which serves as the primordial substrate of all existence. Yet the Midrash, by contrast, knowing nothing of this divine schematic, uses this as yet another opportunity to glean insight into the divine personality: 

    “In the beginning, God created” (Gen. 1:1). Rabbi Yudan in the name of Aquilas: It is befitting to call such a one “God.” The common practice is for a king of flesh-and-blood to have his praise proclaimed throughout the city without having built them public works or baths. 

    Shimon ben Azzai says: “You have increased Your humility for me” (2 Sam. 22:36). Flesh and blood mention their name and then their praise: so-and-so followed by their title. But the Holy One does not. Only after creating the needs of His world does He mention His name: “In the beginning [created]” and after that “God.” 

    The Sages do not read the absence of God’s name from the opening of the verse as an ontological statement about any Absolute Privation that grounds the rest of the Godhead and the universe. They take it instead as a reflection of God’s humility — of an aspect of the divine personality. In stark contrast to the self-important emperors, God declares His primacy only after doing something for humankind. 

    The effacement of the divine personality can also be seen in the manifest aspects of the Godhead, which brings us to the second major innovative doctrine of theosophical Kabbalah: the emergence from the divine Naught of a complex of divine potencies variously called attributes, existents, utterances, or, most familiarly, sefirot. These potencies are the manifest aspect of the Godhead and mediate between the hidden dimension of the Godhead, on the one hand, and the universe and humans, on the other. In this picture, the complexity of God’s qualities and attributes found in Scripture and rabbinic literature are reconceived as distinct existents or hypostases. God is remolded into the Godhead, a being that elaborates itself into particularity via a process of emanation, and the potencies that emerge therefrom form a complex, quasi-organic association with one another. 

    The ancient rabbis coined many epithets for God that signify qualities of the divine personality, but they have been transformed in kabbalistic literature into the discrete entities of the Godhead. The names that the rabbis created — for example, Gevura, signifying God’s omnipotence, and the feminine name Shekhina, signifying God’s immanence — did not refer to separate dimensions that exist side by side within the Godhead. The Shekhina in Rabbinic literature is not an ontological dimension forming part of the totality of the divine structure; it is God’s name. And therefore, when the rabbis describe the Shekhina going into exile with the Jews, they mean that God accompanied them. For the kabbalists, however, the Shekhina going into exile meant that the “lowest” sefira was pulled away from the rest of the divine structure. The Shekhina in rabbinic literature is not God’s female companion; it is God’s totality perceived as feminine. By externalizing God’s qualities and names into discreet dimensions emanating from the divine naught, the kabbalist deconstructed the divine personality into a schematized system of ten nodes of divinity that can be visually represented, often in the form of a kabbalistic tree. 

    It bears noting that despite this fixed order and arrangement, the sefirot remain dynamic and in flux, because the manifest part of the Godhead yearns to return to its concealed source. The configuration of the sefirot exists as a fragile unity and separation. This dynamism of the kabbalistic Godhead is incompatible with Maimonides’s Unmoved Mover, a perfect and disengaged deity of the Aristotelian kind, and its internal multiplicity runs counter to the strict and simple unity of God insisted upon by Maimonideans. And yet, in spite of these tremendous theological differences, both Kabbalah and medieval Jewish philosophy fundamentally consider God as being. By depersonalizing God, the two medieval movements catalyzed a transformation in the religious consciousness that would remake the face of Judaism. 

    Theosophical Kabbalah gained sufficient traction because it endowed Jewish rituals with theurgic meaning. The precarious unity of the divine configuration must constantly be maintained, in order for the sefirot to be properly nourished by the divine efflux that emerges from the depths of Naught, and to transmit it thence to the entire universe. Safeguarding the balance and unity of this multifaced system is entrusted to humans. Performing positive commandments unifies the divine structure, and transgressing negative commandments disunifies it. This notion, which scholars term theurgy, views the observance of the commandments as fulfilling a divine need. While the religious act can still fulfill the goals delineated in rabbinic literature, such as improving human nature or appeasing God, the theurgic explanation attributes to the doer a causal effect on the foundations of all existence. The rabbinic explanation of commandments takes for granted that there are two persons, the one giving orders and the one carrying them out, whereas the theurgic reason is distinctly impersonal, it is not a relational activity but rather a casual act on a complex being on a dynamic and manyfold entity.

    And so the doctrine of theurgy further drove a wedge between the old and new conceptions of God. Consider the rabbinic and kabbalistic interpretations of Moses’s role in the Israelites’ battle against Amalek. The Biblical verses report:

    Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed; but whenever he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed. But Moses’s hands grew heavy, so they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur, one on each side, supported his hands; thus his hands remained steady until the sun set. (Ex. 17:11—12)

    The Mishna — the earliest codified work of rabbinical teachings which was edited in the end second century CE rejects this straightforwardly magical account of the event and raises an incredulous objection: 

    “Whenever Moses held up his hand etc.” Do the hands of Moses make or break a battle? Rather, it tells you that whenever Israel would look upward and make their hearts subservient to their Father in Heaven, they would prevail, and if not, they would fall. 

    According to this mishna, when Moses lifted his arms heavenward, it signaled that the people were rededicating themselves to God and looking to Him for salvation. This reading explicitly rejects any causal explanation — magical or otherwise. Turning to and pleading with one’s Father in Heaven is, of course, a deeply interpersonal act. 

    In kabbalistic thought, though, matters are reversed. In his Biblical commentary, Nahmanides doubles down on the causal explanation: 

    By way of truth, he raised ten fingers to the Height of Heaven to allude to the ten sefirot, in order to make it cleave to the Faith that fights for Israel. This explains the matter of the uplifted palms during the priestly blessing and its secret. 

    By raising his hands, Moses was not praying. He was performing an ontological action and influencing the configuration of the Godhead: he induced the cleaving of the sefirot to “Faith,” another name of Shekhina, the lowest sefira that is most prone to detachment from the rest of the configuration. When Moses lifted his hands, he caused a unification of the upper sefirot with the Shekhina, which was doing battle for Israel, so as to energize it with the divine efflux. The impact of his action was felt cosmically, not humanly. The phrase “by way of truth,” in Nahmanides, denotes an esoteric kabbalistic reading. According to Nahmanides, the same theurgic technique lies behind the commandment for the Kohen, or Jewish priest, to raise his hands during the priestly blessing, as is still commonly done in traditional synagogues. Thus, an interaction between the sons and their Father turns into the metaphysical operation of a technician cranking up the power of the divine machine.

    There is perhaps no better example of this change in the meaning of the religious act than prayer. In the history of Judaism specifically, and of world religions more generally, prayer is the ultimate relational encounter between humans and God, an intimate moment pregnant with vast interpersonal potential. The supplicant’s attitude towards God can vary widely based on their perceived relationship with God and their life circumstances. Prayer can be a humble entreaty, a cry of despair, a brazen demand, a fierce protest, and much more. 

    When the kabbalists turn prayer into a theurgic act, demanding a heightened focus on each word to intend it to act on a specific sefira, they strip this encounter of its dialogical and relational quality. When one examines the massive collection of kabbalistic prayers with their manifold techniques and “intentions,” one is left to wonder, where is the son pleading with his Father? There is indeed a good reason why one of the earliest critiques of Kabbalah, penned in fourteenth-century Spain by the renowned jurist Rabbi Isaac b. Sheshet, touches on prayer: 

    I have also informed you that my teacher, Rabbi Peretz Ha-Kohen, would neither speak about nor give prominence to the sefirot. I also heard him say that Rabbi Shimshon of Chinon, who was the greatest rabbi of his generation, … would say, “I pray with a mindset of a child.” That is, to the exclusion of the kabbalists, who pray one time to this sefira and another time to that one.

    Now, Shimshon of Chinon was not a Maimonidean philosopher who considered kabbalistic prayer an unconscionable contradiction to God’s absolute unity. He was an exceptional jurist and legal authority from Talmudist circles (known as Tosafists) in France, for whom Maimonidean philosophy was as foreign as kabbalistic doctrine. His objection to such complex and technical prayer “intentions” is that they remove the personal quality from the prayer setting; the abstract hyper-awareness that they require necessarily stanches any natural outpouring of emotion. While the kabbalist intently sends off every word to its appropriate supernal destination, Shimshon prefers to pray with the blissful innocence of a child. 

    This analysis of the shift from God as personality to God as being within the two central streams of Kabbalah offers a new perspective on the meaning of Jewish mysticism. Like any general observation, however, it overlooks the sheer diversity of kabbalistic thought. The ascription of a personality to God was part of the fabric of the canonical Jewish tradition that the kabbalists inherited. The concise, systematic character of Nahmanidean Kabbalah is worlds apart from the sprawling and dynamic Kabbalah of the Zoharic literature. And yet, even in the sections in the Zohar (the canonical medieval work of Jewish mysticism composed in Spain in the thirteenth century but attributed to Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai of the second century CE) known as the Idrot, which are considered the most anthropomorphic texts in Zoharic literature, the effacement of the divine personality is apparent. 

    The idrot provide a detailed depiction of God’s facial physiognomy. They zoom in on the divine skull, forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks, facial hair, and beard. It is important to note that the depiction of God in a human form shows a strong lack of any aversion to an embodied vision of the divine, but such a vision is common in Kabbalah. Yet what marks God as a personality is not having a body, but being a relational subject with a complex emotional life. A body does not necessarily imply a personality. An early medieval text called the Shiur Komah, orDimensions of [His] Stature,” records the fantastically large measurements of God’s body. (“The soles of his feet cover the whole universe….”) The author is clearly in awe of the vast dimensions of the deity, but one sees little evidence of any personal connection to this entity. What relationship can there be with a body that spans light years in the vast emptiness of space? 

    In the Idra Rabba, or theGreat Assembly,” a mystical text incorporated into the Zohar, the gigantic face of Arikh Anpin, or the Long Countenance, pours down mercy unceasingly, and yet it is a completely static face. A face with no facial muscles; white eyes with no pupils, no eyebrows, no eyelids. Can one humanize a shining face that never changes its expression? Can one engage it? The divine face has an iconic, inanimate quality to it. Compare this to the simple meaning of the second verse of the priestly blessing, that God should illuminate His countenance for His people (Num. 6:25). The hope is that God’s countenance will glow radiantly for His people, in the way that someone’s face lights up when they meet or are reminded of someone they love. But the divine face of Arikh Anpin in the Idra is always shining — without intention or interruption, without prior prompting or pleading. This “face” has far more in common with the Sun than with anything living. 

    In the Idrot, God’s interiority is translated into external existents. The Thirteen Attributes of Mercy said to be aspects of Arikh Anpin are attributed to various regions of the divine beard. Whereas human compassion and empathy are psychological and emotional states that move a person to help someone else, divine compassion and kindness in the Idra are a liquid essence that flows from the divine skull down through the strands of the wondrous beard to sustain all of existence. The elite kabbalists who have convened in this “great assembly” do not relate to this immutable and unmoved divine countenance as the face of a person. For them, it comprises yet another collection of divine facets in need of mystical rectification. They are a maintenance crew whose job it is to ensure that the conduits of the divine efflux are in good working order, that the strands of hair have no split ends, so to speak. 

    Unlike Arikh Anpin, Ze‘er Anpin, (or the “Lesser Countenance”) can change, but its range is severely restricted to only two states: fury and grace. The default setting is the red face of fury, but when it is mixed with the whiteness of grace that flows from Arikh Anpin, the face changes. Be that as it may, the members of the mystical assembly still do not address Ze‘er Anpin directly. They work theurgically to try to align Ze‘er Anpin with Arikh Anpin, so that it can receive the divine efflux that will dilute the anger. 

    Even this anthropomorphic God is not a personal God. Without a doubt, the Idrot represent one of the most imaginative products of the medieval kabbalistic imagination, and there is no denying that they humanize aspects of the Godhead. But it is hard to shake the feeling that the Idrot grafted an apersonal Neoplatonic worldview, in which a monad emanates existence to a multiplicity, onto the received biblical-rabbinic tradition of God as a personality. They turned the subjectivity of an engaged God into an objective metaphysical structure and process.

    Later stages of Jewish mysticism also exhibit this turn towards God as a being in their thinking about God’s presence — what scholars call immanence. A person’s presence is acknowledged by his attentive care or sensed by his physical proximity. In rabbinical literature, the Shekhina ascends or descends, moves away or draws close. But when God is depersonalized, His presence means something completely different: the embeddedness of the divine entity, or aspects thereof, in our world. This can be expressed in varying degrees of ontological blending. Some doctrines talk about divine “sparks” captive in or sustaining our reality, while others, especially those espoused in the modern era by Habad Hasidism and Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hacohen Kook, posit a greater and somewhat pantheistic identity between the Godhead and reality. For our purposes here, there is little difference between pantheism (the doctrine that God and the universe are the same) and panentheism (the doctrine that the universe exists in God but that God is still greater than it), for in both the Godhead is an entity, a “thing,” thoroughly entwined with the universe, such that there is no place devoid of His existence. Such a presence does not entail attentiveness or proximity. It is for this reason that in these systems of thought the theurgic religious act is aimed at being in touch with the segments of the Godhead enmeshed in this world for one of two purposes: to collect them and to gather them, so as to make the fragmented divine entity whole again, or to cleave to the divine realm through the contact with its spark within mundane world. This is a conceptual revolution in and of itself, but it generates new types of religious experience and action that are inconceivable under a personal God. This is not a God one addresses or quarrels with.

    The transition from God to Godhead, from a personality to an array of potencies, became more and more elaborate with time, to the point that one could only attempt to navigate what had become a divine labyrinth with immense erudition in kabbalistic lore. The God to whom one could turn as a son or servant had been lost in the mammoth engines of Lurianic Kabbalah in the sixteenth century and later; its God was a kind of secret to be rediscovered. Yehuda Liebes has argued that the esoteric religious doctrine of Shabbetai Zvi, the false messiah of the seventeenth century, was that there is in fact a personal God who can be communicated with directly, and with whom he claimed to be in unique intimate relationship. His secret theology sought to rehabilitate the personal God known to any elementary school pupil who is versed in the Jewish tradition. The disappearance of this personal God into an esoteric teaching has been due to the rise of Lurianic Kabbalah, and in response to it Shabbetai Zvi tried to resurrect the personal God. As Liebes says: 

    Understanding the meaning of Shabbetai Zevi’s behavior requires us to delve into the essence of his Mystery of the Godhead. Rather than limited ability, his conscious opposition to the technical and impersonal style adopted by Lurianic Kabbala — in which an advanced, multifaceted machine had replaced the personal God — guided Shabbetai Zevi. Replacing the Lurianic machine with a personal God led Shabbetai Zevi to abandon Lurianic devotional prayer and pray “as someone who prays to His King,” as attested by his fellow student R. Moses Pinheiro. 

    The romance of Shabbetai Zevi, the manic mystical messiah who traumatized his people when he converted to Islam, deserves to include the poignant fact that he sought to replace the vast systems of doctrine about the Godhead with the experience of a personal God like the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. 

    It would appear, then, that conventional view of Kabbalah as the reinvigoration of myth, which has significantly contributed to our understanding of Kabbalah, somewhat obscures a monumental shift in Jewish religious consciousness. The shift is away from the Biblical and Rabbinic religious consciousness, and it took place in both principal types of Kabbalah. The distinction between philosophy and Kabbalah is not to be located in their respective relationship to God as a personality. Both movements perceived God first and foremost as a being rather than as a relational subject; the great difference between them focused on what kind of a being God is. Of course, each one’s concept of God was informed by the epistemological methods that they considered valid: philosophy relied on strict logical reasoning, while Kabbalah was nourished by visions and mystical speculation. 

    In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the great Jewish esoteric movements emerged, and they all shared discomfort with the personalist perspective of the Bible and rabbinical literature. The source of this discomfort is in the rejection of the understanding of the fate of humans as a reflection of their lived relations with God. Personality was replaced by being as part of the dominance of the idea of nature, an idea that perceives causal structures as the ground of being and as the guide to human action. The search for the specific causal model was shared by all the major Jewish schools of thought that burst onto the scene in the Middle Ages: Kabbalah, philosophy, and astrology (of the variety propounded by Abraham Ibn Ezra). They favored different causal models, including the Neoplatonic, Aristotelian, and Hermetic-astral, but they all shared the same basic account of nature, causality, and a divine entity. Each in their own way effaced God’s personhood. 

    The deeper one probes into the most esoteric strata of these doctrines, the more one finds that God’s personal features are shed and God turns into the Godhead. If the contest between Jerusalem and Athens is between a personal God and a natural causality, then Athens won the hearts and minds of the great medieval Jewish esotericists. The only figures to remain faithful to Biblical and Midrashic traditions were those who did not propound esoteric lore, who in their interpretation of the canonical Jewish texts did not identify a realm of hidden secrets which they have the spiritual privilege to uncover. Rashi is a perfect example. Throughout his renowned commentary on the Bible, God’s personhood is plainly evident. No wonder that it was one of his disciples’ disciples, Shimshon of Chinon, who would pray like a child — with wonder, with petulant demands, with ordinary intention behind the words — to show that the master-bearers of the secrets had it wrong.

    On Seeing Old Skis in the Garage

    So many slopes they touched, and once
    leaned outside while I tromped into the parlor
    of an alpine monastery, clattering boots, my bluster
    welcomed to dine silently with the brothers
    who had also vowed to get to the powder
    of what is daily fused with life: to glide, to carve,
    to schuss and float with what the spirit clamors for —
    even though my body’s sluggish, slow, it remembers
    mountains, glory in the snowfell
    hill, its bluebell kindred skills — a rough jouissance
    is what I brought, in all my choices good
    and not so good, the might-have-beens
    and new offerings from the range
    I’m entering, something milder — I’d still strive
    for the milk of kindness, hold out my simmering
    so the fat might rise like broken proteins
    to the top, to be skimmed off.

    Meditation with a Gash in the Natural Order

    I like parking at the big box store, watching people come out and go in.
    Swaying winter grasses in the median, sky that brigand Saturday blue.
    I’m waiting to pick up my son from his guitar lesson. Already masterful,
    he doesn’t quit. Even Jimi Hendrix continued with a vocal coach,
    up to the very day he died. I have so much useless knowledge.
    Like what the monk said about meditation: if while sitting on your cushion
    you have the best idea you’ve ever had — stunning, complete —
    you mustn’t get up to capture it. Also, a lot of what we call miraculous
    is just the way things work: a monarch always emerges from its chrysalis
    as a radically different worm. A miracle is living flesh restored to reeking
    corpse. It’s the man sitting calmly, shaved and dressed, after he’d raved
    at city gates for more years than anyone who stepped around him
    could remember. The monk said: when wondering what to do in life,
    do what will cost you the most. Commit to watching the gorgeous
    bubble evanesce. That’s the only way this works.

    An Occasion

    Our bones will touch in the water
    one day after the supernova,
    or maybe it’ll be an Electromagnetic Pulse
    we bought the old Volvo to outsmart— 

    we escaped the need for computers
    to govern coffee makers,
    and made our own kombucha—
    but one by one the streaked coyotes,

    wimpled foxes picked off
    the rooster and our stupid hens. A cascade
    of tiny choices to occasion
    an implosion.                         

    The mushroom log left wildly fruiting
    in the hand-hewn springhouse afternoon.

    The American Strategic Imagination: An Agenda

    Depending on how history is written, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine may be looked back on as the beginning of a third world war. President Zelensky’s government, along with its advocates in allied governments, has been making this argument since the war’s inception. They frame Ukraine as one battlefield in a larger global struggle, one that pits a growing axis of authoritarian nations against the Western-oriented liberal democracies that have dominated the post-Cold War world order. In this version of history, the war in Ukraine is not the Ukrainians’ war alone but the West’s war, too, an existential struggle for all freedom-loving peoples. There is plenty of evidence that lends credence to this argument. Had Putin’s initial invasion gone according to plan, a year later we would be talking about a similar invasion of Taiwan — as we anyway already are envisioning — and then the question of whether we were in the midst of a third world war would hardly merit debate. 

    Conditions remain ripe for an upheaval of the global order of the type induced by a world war. These upheavals, in the modern era, have occurred approximately every century. The First and Second World War should more properly be categorized as a single conflict with Versailles more of a ceasefire than a peace, and the twenty years of the Napoleonic Wars that birthed a century of continental stability certainly qualify as a world war. One indicator that we might already be in a world war — or that one is imminent — is that the generation that can remember the last one has died. Without memories to restrain us, we become reliant on our imaginations, not only to prevent war but, if one begins, to help us navigate its exigencies, and to win.

    Whether the war in Ukraine is part of a third world war, in which liberal democracies must beat back a rising tide of authoritarianism, or whether it is an isolated territorial-philosophical conflict is not a question of semantics. Defining a war’s scope is essential for any war planning, and for any victory. The role of imagination in the making of strategy has too often been under-appreciated. The conclusions that planners and officials will draw from analysis and data will always be circumscribed by the limits of what they can imagine about the future, by their sense of historical possibilities. If it is true, as the old adage has it, that generals always fight the last war, that is in part because they have not trained their imaginations to picture the next one. Inspired by its disgust with the Iraq war, the Obama administration drew the conclusion, and enshrined it in Pentagon doctrine, that land wars are a thing of the past. Tell that to the tank officers in Ukraine.

    Innovation — of concepts and weapons, of everything — always involves imagination. And the imagination of future warfare is essential also for another reason: it forces us to conceive of the war from our adversary’s point of view as well as from our own. The strategic imagination is a significant deterrent to the other side’s greatest advantage, which is strategic surprise. While the strategic imagination can certainly run wild — remember General Buck Turgidson — the greater danger is that it not run at all.

    In the past fifty years, America’s two great military defeats —Vietnam and Afghanistan — were the result of misunderstanding the scope of the wars that we were fighting. In the former, American policymakers believed we were engaged in, as President Kennedy put it in his inaugural address, “a long twilight struggle” against transnational communism, when in fact the Vietnamese were fighting a war of national liberation. In Afghanistan, we believed we were fighting “a different kind of war,” as President Bush said to Congress ten days after September 11, a war against transnational terrorism. Yet like the Vietnamese, the Taliban were also fighting a war of national liberation with no objective greater than expelling foreigners from their homeland so that they could impose their theocracy upon the population. Their sympathies with al-Qaeda were nauseating, but not their reason for being. In both incidents, a failure to imagine our adversary’s psyches and define the true nature of their objectives and of the very war we were fighting led us to disaster.

    Although it would be easy to discount the Kremlin’s absurd narrative of the war in Ukraine — one in which Zelensky is a Nazi, the West is the aggressor, and there is a genocide against ethnic Russians — it would be a mistake to ignore this narrative entirely, no matter how ridiculous, both when formulating a strategy to defeat Russia and when creating an agenda for our own strategic imagination. The first item on this agenda must be a robust understanding of the conflict from our adversary’s point of view. Data alone may not be able to depict our enemy. The specifics of such an understanding will be fluid, it will involve imaginative interpretation, and it will consistently clash with our own narrative. 

    A war is like a coin. It has two sides, and what we call the casus belli is really a debate as to what side of the coin we are on: whether a revolution is in fact a civil war; whether an invasion is in fact a liberation. Irreconcilable political narratives — or imaginaries, to use the academically popular term — are not a contradiction. The war itself becomes the very process through which these narratives will be resolved. But any strategy that does not consider an adversary’s counter-narrative — no matter how odious that narrative might be — is destined to fail.

    Although war is waged in the consciousness of peoples and nations, it is also a craft that requires a tradesman’s skill. Both the Napoleonic Wars and the world wars of the twentieth century resulted in societal and technological advances that few could have predicted. Perhaps the greatest innovation of the Napoleonic Age was the levée en masse, in which Napoleon crafted a new citizen army from a body politic mobilized for military service. His new army, which few could have imagined before the popular revolutions of the eighteenth century, supplanted the long-serving professional and mercenary armies that had dominated the continent for centuries. The primacy on the battlefield of the citizen-soldier, which cemented national identities, would have implications well-into the twentieth century and even into our own, as both Ukraine and Russia adopt strategies to keep their societies mobilized for war. 

    The issue of how to keep a nation — and allied nations — mobilized has direct bearing on what we now call influence operations, a discipline which must sit atop any strategic agenda. Influence operations — sometimes known as psychological warfare or disinformation — are as old as war itself. Clausewitz’s renowned dictum that “war is a continuation of politics by other means” is an articulation of the first principles of influence operations. Politics do not stop when the bullets start. Nations at war must target popular opinion in their adversary’s country as well in their own to achieve victory. This does not mean that a government should lie to its own people. 

    Authoritarian nations possess an intrinsic advantage over open societies in the control of information, but this does not mean that they will ultimately succeed in swaying popular opinion, particularly over the course of a long war. Eventually the truth has an almost miraculous way of getting under the door. Speaking about information warfare during the Cold War, Adlai Stevenson once described our preferred policy toward the communist powers this way: “When you stop lying about me, I’ll stop telling the truth about you.” But the truth must be aggressively deployed — for our adversaries, inconveniently and damagingly deployed — in influence operations. Truth may be the first casualty of war, but it is also one of its most potent weapons. Unfortunately, current American attitudes toward influence operations often seem analogous to Secretary of State Henry L. Stimson’s attitude a century ago to the then-evolving discipline of espionage: “Gentlemen don’t read each other’s mail.” 

    Today we can ill-afford misplaced decorum when crafting policies around influence operations. One of the greatest restrictions placed on American influence operations is a fear of blowback, in which propaganda or other forms of influence or disinformation disseminated beyond our borders filter back into the United States. Although different U.S. government agencies, such as the Department of Defense, the Department of State, and our intelligence services, have varied risk tolerances for blowback, when operations targeting foreign audiences also find American audiences it violates current programmatic statutes that govern the scope of information operations. 

    Government protections of the American population against its own propaganda extend back to the aftermath of the Second World War. The Smith-Mundt Act of 1948, which regulated State Department broadcasts such as Voice of America, was one of the first pieces of legislation to restrict American propaganda efforts. This was due to concerns over empowering government agencies to disseminate ideological materials to the American people. In 1975, after the Church Committee Report revealed Operation Mockingbird, a large-scale multi-decade CIA program to manipulate domestic American media, other restrictions soon followed. These included Executive Order 11905, signed by President Ford, which brought the intelligence agencies to heel on a variety of covert programs, to include assassination and covert influence; and Executive Order 12333, signed by President Reagan in 1981, according to which the president outlines the duties of America’s intelligence agencies, those responsible for American propaganda efforts where the hand of the United States government must remain hidden. Such covert efforts are where the threat of blowback is greatest. It is also where our risk tolerances are lowest, and where we are being overtaken by our adversaries who harbor little to no concern for blowback against their own populations. The question still needs to be asked whether the abolition of covertness for various purposes is strategically wise. It is undeniable that our national obsession with the evils of covertness has made us look away from a more important aspect of our influence operations, which is its robustness.

    In the past decade, both Russia and China have used influence operations and propaganda against the United States to great effect. In 2014, the Russians deployed soldiers in unmarked uniforms during the invasion of Crimea and the Donbas. Disinformation, like cancer, requires only the presence of a single malignant cell to metastasize, and Russia’s “little green men” in their unmarked uniforms allowed the Kremlin to propagate a narrative that their soldiers were homegrown Ukrainian separatists. In the United States we have seen the potency of Russian disinformation firsthand, in our own elections. (“Cut it out,” Obama once scolded Putin about Russian hacking. It didn’t do the trick.) Russian interference in the campaign of 2016 proved catalytic, yielding an exponential result that played out over years, creating a firestorm in American politics with few parallels. As is often the case with well-placed disinformation, the targeted society will do your work for you if you let it. 

    The Chinese Communist Party understands this. For the past two decades, the CCP has effectively used the American profit motive as a tool of American self-censorship. During the Cold War, when the Soviet Union posed the greatest threat to global freedom, American culture articulated that threat, particularly in Hollywood. In the past twenty-years during China’s rise, American cultural institutions have remained largely silent. Unlike with the Soviets, American and Chinese financial interests are intertwined. The Chinese have used this codependence as a tool to silence American critiques. In 2022, as American producers agonized over whether to include a Taiwanese flag on Tom Cruise’s leather jacket in Top Gun Maverick for fear of offending CCP censors and eroding the film’s Chinese box-office, Chinese producers had their biggest box-office hit of all time, The Battle at Lake Changjin, which glorifies the Chinese slaughter of Americans during the Battle of the Chosin Reservoir. The previous box-office champion had been the second installment of The Wolf Warrior franchise, in 2017, in which a Chinese former soldier battles against the arch-villain, a bloodthirsty former U.S. Navy SEAL named “Big Daddy.” 

    Chinese influence operations extend far beyond Hollywood. Their sway over global governance bodies like the World Health Organization has quashed any consensus as to how the Covid 19 pandemic began. A parade of international administrators with their timid “investigations” and non-sensical public statements have proven quite willing to carry China’s water on this issue. All that was needed was to sow some doubt. If Russia’s brand of disinformation — little green men in Ukraine, election tampering, claims of American biological labs in Ukraine — seems more absurdist than the means employed by the CCP, both are plenty effective in obfuscating the truth. 

    The sheer volume of propaganda, manipulation, and disinformation dispensed by authoritarians would seem impossible to counter. An American strategy that would seek to reform government agencies so that they could dispense the same type of propaganda as their authoritarian counterparts is certain to fail. An open society — even if flawed — cannot compete on the field of lies with the authoritarians. The only propaganda strategy that we can consider is one that aggressively propagates the truth. There is nothing that more weakens the hold of dictators and autocrats on their populations than the truth and its ruthless strategic proliferation.

    If one holds the cynical view that the truth is subjective, a matter of competing narratives, then this and all truth-based strategies are doomed to failure as authoritarians will always outmatch us. (But if the relativists and perspectivists are right, on the other hand, then we should be less inhibited in our propaganda!) The Biden administration’s handling of Russia’s troop buildup in the days leading up to the invasion of Ukraine presents a refreshing and encouraging example of how information operations based on the truth can outmaneuver those based on lies.

    As the Kremlin massed its divisions, it continued to insist that these troop movements were part of a military exercise and that war remained avoidable. At the same time, the Biden administration had intelligence that Russia was in the process off coordinating a false-flag operation — a type of psychological ploy in which a military attacks itself or others under a flag that is not its own — to instigate a war. At a press briefing three weeks before the invasion, John Kirby, the Pentagon spokesman, preempted the Kremlin’s plan: “We believe that Russia would produce a very graphic propaganda video, which would include corpses and actors that would be depicting mourners and images of destroyed locations, as well as military equipment at the hands of Ukraine or the West, even to the point where some of this equipment would be made to look like it was Western-supplied.”

    The Biden administration adopted a strategy of flooding news outlets with sensitive intelligence, on everything from the false-flag operations to the movements of Russia’s frontline trauma hospitals and command centers, all of which proved that despite Russia’s claims to the contrary their intention to invade was clear. The Biden administration adopted this strategy over the objections of Zelensky who, at the time, remained concerned about inciting panic inside his own country. Although this strategy did not prevent a Russian invasion, it did limit the Kremlin’s ability to further claims that Ukraine was the aggressor. And just as important, it prepared us mentally, and our allies too, for what was coming. In this instance, the Biden administration skillfully shaped the American strategic imagination. The international condemnation and economic isolation that followed Russia’s invasion is due in no small measure to the Biden administration’s strategy of preempting Russian disinformation.

    Although a strategy of preemption proved effective in Ukraine, no similar strategy was deployed against the Chinese government as they restricted and manipulated studies around the pandemic’s origins. Three years later little consensus exists as to the virus’ origins, though theories abound. The issue itself has become politicized, with views so entrenched it seems no amount of evidence can now sway beliefs; the creation of irreconcilable narratives is, of course, the purpose of a disinformation campaign. In the pandemic we may have lived through a dress rehearsal of the future of biological warfare, a discipline which must sit firmly atop any agenda for our strategic imagination.

    In recent years, biological warfare has taken the form of gas attacks visited by Bashar al-Assad on his population in Syria and assassinations ordered by Putin against his political enemies. These tactics — in which individuals are poisoned, and armies and civilian populations are shelled or rocketed with gruesome agents — have evolved little since first appearing a century ago. They are designed to induce fear and are typically limited in scope to the area in which they are deployed. A pandemic, if ever weaponized, would auger in a different type of warfare, and we would be naïve — we would be catastrophically unimaginative — to believe our adversaries are not imagining ways to do exactly this. 

    In Ukraine, we have seen the critical importance of economic sanctions in modern war. In the pandemic, we saw how a virus brought the global economy to the brink. The grisly nature of traditional biological weapons will likely limit their use in the future; politically, they cost more than they deliver. But a biological catastrophe — of the kind that we have already lived through — would surely be a feature of any future world war, not simply due to the human toll but also the economic toll. 

    Imagine the United States along with its allies was fighting a peer competitor, an authoritarian nation such as China with the capacity to exercise significant control over its population. We would, of course, do our best to exercise economic pressure on them, and they would do the same to us. As in wars past, our national means of production would prove decisive to the war effort. Now imagine that this authoritarian nation possessed a virus like the coronavirus and that it had already developed its own vaccines. As people grew sick that country would be able to implement a vaccination campaign, isolating its citizens from the deadly effects of the virus. Without the vaccine in our possession, America’s war effort would be crippled. Our adversary would, of course, claim no knowledge of how this new virus spread. They would deny its origins and have no moral obligation to share vaccine technology with a nation they are at war with.

    The costs would be profound. Our most recent pandemic saw the largest drop in American manufacturing in seventy-four years. Aircraft carriers such as the USS Theodore Roosevelt were forced into port due to outbreaks of virus among the crew. A healthy army facing a sick one possesses an obvious advantage, and the same advantage extends to the economies supporting those armies. The United States would eventually develop its own vaccine, but the disruption would prove significant and could provide a peer-level adversary with a decisive edge. 

    After living through the Covid 19 pandemic, the way we think about biological warfare must change. It should still include the acute nerve agents and chemical weapons that we have seen in the past, but it also must incorporate a view of biological warfare that includes man-made pandemics and accounts for how such events could be deployed as tools of economic warfare when laundered through the very same types of disinformation campaigns that have, thus far, obscured any global consensus and accountability regarding the origins of Covid 19. The moral case to abolish chemical and biological weapons is obvious. But, as with nuclear weapons, there is the unpleasant but effective matter of deterrence. Even if weapons of mass destruction do not deter conventional or cyber weapons, they have so far deterred other weapons of mass destruction. A balance of terror, that Cold War doctrine and Cold War reality, is existentially hideous but strategically wise. 

    If discussions of a third world war echo another era, it is because this war long existed as part of the Cold War’s vernacular, a time when students cowered under desks for bomb drills, when families constructed fallout shelters in the backyard, and when nuclear winter was the most well-known definition of climate change. To imagine a third world war means to update our conception of it, but also to redefine its terms. And one of these terms, deterrence, has unfortunately fallen out of use. During the Cold War, deterrence (particularly of the nuclear kind) evolved into an entire discipline, with strategists on both sides of the Iron Curtain relying on game-theory to ensure that humanity did not annihilate itself with its newly discovered nuclear weapons. The result of this deliberate approach to deterrence was decades of relative peace, and certainly nuclear peace, between the two superpowers. Also, we were lucky.

    We still possess that destructive capability though deterrence, as a tool, is discussed far less. In the decades immediately after the Cold War, we lived in a unipolar world, in which deterrent strategy lacked its previous relevance because the United States enjoyed a significant power imbalance over any would-be adversary. In recent years, the unipolar post-Cold War world has yielded to an increasingly Hobbesian multipolar world. And in a multipolar world strategies of deterrence become increasingly complex, with so many competing actors involved that it is virtually impossible to arrive at elegant deterrent solutions such as “mutually assured destruction,” which prevented a nuclear war between the Soviet Union and the United States for decades. 

    Yet it is not simply the proliferation of actors that makes deterrence strategies complex, but the proliferation of threats. Unlike in past decades, nuclear weapons are not the only means by which societies can annihilate one another. There are the biologicals and the chemicals. And there is another new dimension of warfare. The end of the Cold War coincided with the creation of the Internet. 

    As deterrent strategies became a thing of the past, every modern nation — indeed, every nuclear-armed nation — was undergoing a decades-long project of taking its infrastructure online. Thirty years later, we have awoken to a multi-polar world in which the United States faces peer-level competitors that not only possess society-ravaging nuclear arsenals, but also cyber capabilities that could wipeout our infrastructure. The chaos that follows a significant infrastructure strike would lead to civilian deaths as planes crash, hospitals lose power, and cities descend into darkness. The economic and social havoc would be immeasurable. And even though cyber-attacks shut down critical infrastructure with the flip of a switch, that infrastructure cannot be brought back online with a second flip. The damage is often permanent. 

    For this reason, our strategic imagination requires a thorough education in the new vulnerabilities, the new possibilities of destruction. One of the challenges of creating deterrent strategies around cyber-warfare is that it is difficult to envisage such destructive capability. Most of this work gets done in films and science fiction. At the end of the Second World War, at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the world witnessed the destructive capabilities of nuclear weapons. We never needed to imagine a mushroom cloud over a city, we had witnessed it, and it required scant imagination to know that, no matter one’s nationality, there would be few winners if the great powers of the world chose to unleash their nuclear arsenals. 

    Cyber is different. The world has yet to witness the full destructive scope of a strategic cyber-attack, and because the threat is largely intellectualized, and not yet experienced, the likelihood of a misstep is greater. One of those potential missteps, for example, involves the permeability between cyber war and nuclear war. Whereas a cyber-attack may justify a cyber-counterattack, are there circumstances of crisis in which it would justify an escalation — a breaking of what nuclear strategists used to call the firewall? A nation crippled by a cyber-attack could very well respond with a nuclear attack, particularly if an adversary has compromised their ability to respond in kind. Even if a cyber-attack is designed with a limited scope, it is often difficult to control the spread of the attack, resulting in collateral damage that could lead to an unanticipated escalation. This was the case with Stuxnet, the American- and Israeli-designed malware that targeted Iran’s Natanz uranium enrichment facility in 2010. Although Stuxnet proved successful in crippling Iranian nuclear infrastructure, the Americans and the Israelis failed to contain the spread of the malware. It has since attacked industrial capability across Iran and in other Middle Eastern countries. 

    Over the past thirty years, American and Russian conceptions of the use of strategic weapons have evolved in opposite directions. While the United States created security strategies that minimized the role of strategic weapons in future conflicts, Russia pursued new concepts and capabilities to expand their roles. Whereas it is unlikely that Putin would resort to a tactical nuclear weapon, his nuclear saber-rattling is not merely rhetoric. It is based upon the current Russian doctrine of “escalate to de-escalate.” The latest version of this doctrine, titled Basic Principles of State Policy of the Russian Federation on Nuclear Deterrence, was released in June 2020. It declares that Russia “reserves the right to use nuclear weapons to respond to all weapons of mass destruction attacks.” A strategic cyber-attack would certainly qualify as a “mass destruction attack,” but it remains vague as to what else might fall into this category. It also classifies “aggression against the Russian Federation with the use of conventional weapons when the very existence of the state is in jeopardy” as warranting a nuclear response, but this seems a subjective standard, particularly with an authoritarian like Putin who abides by the dictum l’état, c’est moi. When it comes to effective strategies of deterrence, ambiguity is sometimes an advantage but sometimes not. A psychological truism teaches that all ambiguous behavior is interpreted negatively, and Russia’s current strategic posture places a premium on unpredictability, which makes deterrence the more challenging. 

    Since invading Ukraine, Russia has been tempting a mass destruction event. The shelling of Europe’s largest nuclear power plant at Zaporizhzhia was particularly reckless, though it would be a mistake to believe that Russia — and its authoritarian allies like China — are behaving irrationally. Russia has its reasons and its worldview; some of its thinking is characteristic of great power raison d’etat, some of it is peculiar to Russia and its view of its history and is less rational. If today we are at the outset of a third world war, this is because our adversaries are fighting to upset and then redefine the global order. There is no clearer way to upset that order than by mimicking the act of creative destruction that created it: the use of a weapon of mass destruction. 

    This could be a nuclear attack, a cyber-attack, or even a biological attack akin to another pandemic. If such an attack occurs, it will be accompanied by a narrative propagated by the authoritarians who launched it. The attack itself will matter, but what will also matter are the myriad taboos that it will break, jolting us out of one strategic imaginary and into another. The immediate destruction wrought by a low-grade tactical nuclear weapon would be of less relevance than the raw fact that it would be the first nuclear weapon used since the Second World War. This would upset the global order and so would be a logical step for those authoritarian nations whose goal is to destroy the long-enjoyed global dominance of liberal democracies.

    Ample opportunities exist to avoid these grim scenarios. By understanding the intentions of our adversaries, we prepare ourselves to counter their strategic agenda with our own. Our agenda must account for challenges in information operations, biological warfare, and cyber warfare, but it must never lose sight of the truism that armies win wars, not weapons alone.

    In Ukraine, an authoritarian Russia along with its allies hopes to prove that the sun has set on liberal democracy. Thus far, what has stopped them is a fully mobilized society and a highly motivated army. The fighting has been a hybrid of low-tech (infantry, artillery, armor) and high-tech (drones, precision missiles, artificial intelligence). The heart of any battle, according to Clausewitz, is “slaughter.” A people’s will to endure that slaughter has always and will always prove a determinative factor in war.

    In the world wars fought since the Enlightenment, authoritarian armies have performed poorly. I do not mean to downplay the military achievements of the authoritarians: Napoleon certainly knew how to fight a battle, and the Germans invented the decentralized, mission-style tactics that the Ukrainians have used to outmaneuver the Russians. But war is a human endeavor, a contest of wills. A society’s will to remain free will always prove stronger than those who compel them to obey. As we imagine the future, we must not lose sight of this.

    Come Dressed as the Sick Soul of Late Capitalism

    [Innocent wayfarers, beware. This essay contains what are vulgarly known in the trade as “spoilers,” so if for some unfathomable reason you’ve yet to view Succession, Glass Onion, and The White Lotus, tread gingerly and try not to gasp.] 

    It may be the most famous and chewed-over exchange in American literature that never actually took place, at least not in real time. In 1936, when the country was still in the hold of the Great Depression and in no mood for mooniness, Esquire magazine published Ernest Hemingway’s cinematic story “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” a meditation on mortality and the beautiful consoling desolation of a cathedral mountain, all that. Amid the flashbacks and the regrets, the narrator couldn’t resist sneaking in a catty sideswipe: “He remembered poor Scott Fitzgerald and his romantic awe of them and how he had started a story once that began, ‘The very rich are different from you and me.’ And how someone had said to Scott, ‘Yes, they have more money’.” 

    That “someone” was of course Hemingway himself, unable to resist puffing his chest at “poor Scott”‘s expense. Earlier the same year Esquire had published Fitzgerald’s revelatory confessional “The Crack-Up,” so it was understood that he was in a precarious state. Fitzgerald’s understandable ire at being mocked and misrepresented — he complained to their mutual editor, the Solomonic Maxwell Perkins — forced Hemingway to soften the passage later for hardcover publication and substitute the weak-water name “Julian” for “poor Scott.” Didn’t matter. Sophisticated readers knew the real score. For decades, the original back and forth in print was patted down and packed into a tidy conversational anecdote, with Hemingway’s snappy comeback considered by many (most?) the definitive retort — a bull’s-eye reality check — to Fitzgerald’s dreamy, minty-green Jazz Age romanticism.

    The verdict has been reversed over time. Is there any doubt today that Fitzgerald, swimming in the aqua sparkle of his own perceptions, had it right and Hemingway was talking out of his pith helmet? It was Lionel Trilling who defended the Fitzgerald case most elegantly. “The truth is that after a certain point quantity of money does indeed change into quality of personality: in an important sense the very rich are different from us…” It was true then and it is even truer in this millennium. The evidence pimp-slapped in our faces is that the rich are more different from the rest of us than ever before — they are evolving into a mutant species. 

    As the middle class is increasingly whittled thin — witness union jobs being replaced by a gig economy, the coronation of corporate executives, the premature knighting of Palo Alto wunderkinds, the emergence of Davos Man, and saturation bombing of the airwaves with ad blitzes for online sports gambling and mega-millions lottery draws — the chasm is widening yearly between the have-somethings and the have-it-alls. It has only gotten worse since Covid, only widened. Tech billionaires, hedge funders, private equity predators, Saudi princes, Russian oligarchs, the former president who besmirched the office, and similar excrescences of turbo-charged late-stage lift-off capitalism have top-loaded this century into a second Gilded Age, one that even the ongoing global recession hasn’t been able to dent. 

    A second Gilded Age might seem to be a bonanza opportunity for novelists, for some young, hip, penetrative Gen X/Gen M/Gen Z/Gen-whatever Edith Wharton to train her spy glasses or AR goggles on. But perhaps the spectacle of the mega-rich is simply more than contemporary novelists (a more inwardly investigating crew) can consolidate. The traditional big social novel of manners and disturbing flutters in the drawing room may be too antiquated an undertaking. The pursuit of great wealth and the cruel delight of writing the little ingrates out of your will largely disappeared from serious fiction, as serious fiction itself has been eased into the infirmary. The strenuous toils of Theodore Dreiser (The Titan, The Financier) belong to an iron age. The stately mansions of later John O’Hara lie empty and neglected. Inherited money inhabited the background of Louis Auchincloss’s novels, but it was a listless resource, carpet-worn. 

    The contemporary remakes and invocations of The Great Gatsby — will we ever be rid of them? — offered retro cosplay that’s unable to capture the lyrical lift of the prose, the goosy thrill of Puritan restraint being kicked to the curb and the human body flowing free as if for the first time. The field was left to commercial pop fiction to project fantasies of the rich, virile, fertile, and resplendent in potboilers whipped to a mad fandango by Jacqueline Susann, Judith Krantz, Harold Robbins, Shirley Conran, and other pagan immortals of the airport paperback rack. Some of the anecdotes in these concoctions may have been pinched from honest gossip but the overall effect was of escapist make-believe.

    For a brief fun time, before everything got engorged, the true signifiers of American wealth required a keen acquisitive eye to spot. They didn’t call undue attention to themselves, but were hostessy and understated, niblet-sized and exquisitely prepared. Truman Capote, who prided himself on being the keenest double agent inside the velvet folds since Marcel Proust, informed an interviewer that what separated the rich from the rest of us primates was their serving of tiny vegetables: “Delicious little tiny vegetables. Little fresh-born things scarcely out of the earth. Little baby corn, little baby peas, little lambs that have been ripped out of their mothers’ wombs.” Tom Wolfe’s New York magazine account of Leonard Bernstein’s fundraiser for the Black Panthers — “Radical Chic” — introduced us to the party with a rapture over the hor d’oeuvres. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. These are nice. Little Roquefort cheese morsels rolled in crushed nuts. Very tasty. Very subtle. It’s the way the dry sackiness of the nuts tiptoes up against the dour savor of the cheese that is so nice, so subtle.” Not that there wasn’t the occasional representative of wealth with more democratic taste buds. William F. Buckley, Jr., whose sailboats were stocked with wine and champagne before they embarked into distant latitudes, was addicted to a grocery store brand of peanut butter called Red Wing. But this seems to have been more of a quirky personal indulgence, not something he’d slather on Triscuits when Mrs. Kempner came calling.

    Prime time television, bless its bionic heart, filled the void left by serious fiction and classic Hollywood films and then, as television inevitably does, overfilled it. On network TV, extreme wealth was often troweled out as a bestowal of the golden promise of Southern California on the fortunate few, whether they be oil-rich lucky-strike yokels (The Beverly Hillbillies) or crime-solving playboys (Burke’s Law). The Reagan era became the heyday of the rich clan soap opera that had the swoosh and swoop of a pink poodle Ross Hunter production: Dallas, Dynasty, Flamingo Road, and Falcon Crest, where the matriarch was played by Ronald Reagan’s first wife, Jane Wyman. The storyline from Falcon Crest’s debut episode: “Wealthy vintner Angela Channing feels threatened when her nephew Chase Gioberti returns to Falcon Crest for his father’s funeral.” Angela Channing — a name that could ring church bells — was well advised to be on guard. On all of these soaps, barely a season went by when there wasn’t a misplaced nephew or niece or illegitimate son or daughter popping out of the topiary to demand his or her rightful due. It was also the era of the lavish mini-series adaptation, such as Lace, based on Shirley Conran’s bestseller, and remembered today for Phoebe Cates’s sneering icebreaker, “Which one of you bitches is my mother?”

    To complement the fictional exploits of the coiffed, avaricious, and scheming no-gooders, there gurgled up a new genre of reality television, pioneered by the guided tour through Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, which premiered in 1984 and ran for over a decade. The popularity of the series ratified that in the 1980s it was no longer enough to be rich or famous, you had to be rich and famous, for that was the new American Dream. Each syndicated episode of Lifestyles was like a fawning vacation brochure or magazine spread with a bumptious, trumpety voiceover supplied by its irrepressible and uncharacteristically effusive British host Robin Leach, whose catchphrase motto “Champagne wishes and caviar dreams!” was like a wedding toast. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous might have been relegated to the slag heap of a period novelty if it hadn’t inspired copycats such as MTV’s Cribs (2000 to present), documentaries about the palatial lives of fashion designers (Valentino: The Last Emperor, in 2008), and, most infectiously, the “staged reality” extravagant lunches and battle royals of Bravo cable’s Real Housewives franchise produced by Andy Cohen, the David O. Selznick of Ryan Seacrests. It is hard to keep track of how many cities have rich Real Housewives emerging from limos and going Godzilla. Every urban squad of prancing, feuding divas takes valuable time out from babying their tiny pedigree dogs to attend restaurant openings, disparage their frenemies, fling drinks in eachothers’ unreal faces, and point menacingly long fingernails as they trade heavily bleeped-out trash talk. The campy, pool-splashing, hair-pulling catfight between Krystle and Alexis in season three of Dynasty was the precursor for every “Real Housewife” dominatrix match. 

    Cementing fan loyalty and tabloid fever between seasons are the real-life headline scandals that leave cracks in the fake-real facade, as with the arrest and imprisonment of Jen Shah (Real Housewives of Salt Lake City) and Teresa Guidice (Real Housewives of New Jersey), and the commotion on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills over “powerhouse attorney” Tom Girardi, the then-husband of ice-blonde aspiring disco goddess chanteuse and BH housewife Erika Jayne, who was accused of stealing money from clients, some of them desperate and destitute, and the roiling undercurrent of suspicion that Jayne, hardly a spotless lamb, had to be aware of what hubby was up to — the old fool had been bankrolling her vanity career. It made for many squinty, tense pauses and spitfire moments on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. In relating this, I acknowledge that to the uninitiated it may sound as if I’m speaking Romulan — as when I tried to explain Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the dubious enlightenment of the late John Simon — but this is the streaming canal in which some of us oar. 

    Although in toto these reality TV fishbowls reveal sociological glints of how we live now — or rather how they live now — their blatancy appeals to low-information, viral-clip viewers in need of incessant cheap kicks. For an immersive experience of how the richy rich think, act, behave, misbehave, maneuver, socialize, enjoy their toys, ignore their children, speak in code (“like real Americans, they always talked in code,” to adapt an insight from Norman Mailer), maintain the pecking order, monitor the perimeter, and forge a phalanx whenever they move in concert, only high-budget, hierarchy-obsessed, mission-driven dramas and satires will do. Only they can muster the necessary resources of screenwriters, directors, actors, costume designers, location scouts, etc., to evoke and enter the distortion field of spoiled monsters and damaged psyches.

    For a curated verisimilitude, Tom Wolfe-worthy signifiers are strategically implanted in the most fanatically detailed film and television chronicles of the super-rich, whether it’s the strictly-business “stealth wealth” (as if there is such a thing) black ball caps that the male Roys wear screwed tight on their heads in HBO’s Succession, which has concluded its triumphant four-year run, or the Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Offshore Camouflage timepiece and Randolph Engineering Aviator sunglasses that Bobby Axelrod (Damien Lewis) sport in Showtime’s Billions. These accouterments of killer cool seem to have been issued by the murders and acquisitions division to princelings and upstarts who compare themselves to modern-day pirates, gangsters, apex predators, and fighter pilots, and pride themselves on their agile wits, their mastery of Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, and Jedi moves (yet have a spaz if their favorite bottled water arrives a tad lukewarm). Underachievers are kept under constant notice. The trading floor at Bobby Axelrod’s Axe Capital is a glassed pavilion dojo where only the top survive and flushed-out schmuckos take the walk of shame carrying their belongings in a box. Unreluctant to deploy blackmail and hardball tactics, Bobby Axelrod is Michael Corleone with a bouncier step. Neutralize your foes with extreme prejudice and the gormless boards of directors will fall like dominoes. The scope of the wealth and global designs of Axelrod and his rival plunderers make “the masters of the universe” in Tom Wolfe’s The Bonfire of the Vanities look like tiddly-winkers.

    Tom (Matthew Macfayden): “Umm, do you want…a deal …with…the devil?”

    Cousin Greg (Nicholas Braun), after a pause: “What am I going to do with a soul anyway? Souls are boring.” 

    Succession, Season 3, Episode 9. 

    Succession is less of a bro fantasy than Billions, more of an acid bath where illusions and ideals are dissolved and sentimentality separates from the bones, which is why many deem the series cold, heartless, and intractably cynical. As if Jonathan Swift was some sweetheart. Created by Jesse Armstrong, Succession’s line of attack fuses the scabrous, scorpion invective of The Thick of It, In the Loop, and Veep with the infighting, stylized lingo, and devious subterfuge of peak David Mamet. No series has consistently shown greater gunslinger skill with caustic sound bites while keeping tabs on the chief imperative. In Mel Brooks’s Silent Movie, in 1976, the Hollywood studio modeled on Gulf & Western was named Engulf and Devour, which could double as the corporate handle for Succession’s Waystar Royco conglomerate, with its portfolio of theme parks, cruise ships, and troubled film division. (All film divisions are troubled.) Its crown jewel is the innocuous sounding American Television Network, or ATN, a red-meat, right-slanted “bigot spigot” cable news operation capable of driving the national dialogue, dictating the next president, and dragging even the loftiest reputations through the muck. Any resemblance to Fox News and the Murdoch family is strictly intentional and the ATN lineup struts its own Tucker Carlson/Sean Hannity anchor stud, a Nazi-flirting smug vacuity who bears the perfect evil name of Mark Ravenhead.

    Clinging to the throne and constantly chaffing in irritation and fury at the fools around him, many of them family members, is Royco patriarch Logan Roy (Brian Cox, an aging lion who can inject menace into a simple Uh-huh”), an old school analog-bred media magnate who minimizes mind games to go for the throat or the groin or, preferably, both. Logan Roy possesses an animal cunning for reading situations and subtle momentum shifts; like HBO’s other iconic anti-hero, Tony Soprano, Roy has an animal cunning — a psychological sniffer — for who’s with him, who’s against him, who’s wavering, and who needs to be gang-planked. Animal is the word. “Boar to the floor!” is Roy’s sadistic idea of a parlor game, and he vows to go “full fucking beast” on his foes. When he prowls the floor of the ATN newsroom in ominous sunglasses, one character says, “It’s like Jaws if everyone in Jaws worked for ‘Jaws.'” 

    Seeking to extricate itself from its attachment to old media (newspapers, local television stations, basic cable, movie production), Waystar Royco, mighty as it is, fears being gobbled up in a single gulp by some digital baron “Zucker-fuck.” The younger tribe of Roys — primarily sons Kendall (Jeremy Strong) and Roman (Kiernan Culkin), and daughter Siobhan, better known as Shiv (Sarah Snook) — angles to divorce itself from the doom and chaos they’ve done so much to sow and join the newer species of super-rich that originated in Silicon Valley or some other incubator of myth-hype, red pill hubris, and algorithmic domination. This gnawing awareness of the vexing gap between the traditional 1% and the top 1% of the 1% is rawly laid out plain in Succession when Roman, in one of his conversations with his sexty, executive mommy-figure Gerri Kellman (J. Smith-Cameron) promises that if their scheme pays off, “You will get properly ‘fuck you, fuck you I-don’t-even-care-about-climate-change I’m-in-New-Zealand-with-my-own-private-army’ rich. Not like some pathetic asshole beach house on the Vineyard rich.” A beach house on Martha’s Vineyard, so lame.

    The New Zealand reference in Roman’s spiel alludes to Peter Thiel, whose plans to build an extensive luxury lodge alongside a mountain-surrounded lake as part of his apocalypse insurance policy have been thwarted by local authorities. Thiel is not alone in preparing blueprints for when everything goes kerflooey. Douglas Rushkoff’s recent Survival of the Richest: Escape Fantasies of the Tech Billionaires is an allegory about an elite group of doomsday preppers who intend to live out the coming social disorder and pestilence in scenic, remote compounds that will be self-sustaining, impregnable to zombie invasion, and offering the utmost in civilized comfort as the earth bakes. In times of trouble you can always count on the rich. The undying wet dream of wealthy anarcho-libertarians has been for their own Galt Gulch, the mountain hideaway in Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged where society’s elite doers, makers, and dissenters isolated themselves from the shabby ranks of takers, losers, and liberal simps with their meeching platitudes. Some of the Gulf States are planning glass-domed mega-cities in the desert powered by wind and solar that will contain their own amphitheaters and five-star hotels. “The plan, distilled, is to become the global headquarters for the mega-wealthy,” Scott Galloway writes in his newsletter No Mercy/No Malice. That will do for most, but for a few visionary billionaire survivalists the world is not enough, to borrow the title of a James Bond film. Elon Musk, as everyone knows, has made it his mission to colonize Mars, and Amazon’s Jeff Bezos and Virgin Atlantic’s Richard Branson are competing astro cowboys with their satellite launches and dreams of orbital tourism. 

     Since space colonization is going to take a while and underground compounds lack eye-candy and are indistinguishable from the underlit subterranean nerve centers in Marvel movies and dystopian sci-fi, the preferred getaway in movies and TV for rest, relaxation, and inviolable refuge is a private secluded island that combines the fortress capabilities of Dr. No’s Crab Key with the lush splendor of a tropical paradise. Guests arrive by invitation only, their presence a privilege extended by the host, who cloaks an ulterior motive or two beneath the too-hearty bonhomie. Everything is arranged to perfection, the hospitality staff seamlessly appearing and reappearing as if on winged feet. Or smooth rollers. Robot sherpas serve as the luggage conveyors in Glass Onion, Rian Johnson’s successor to the improbably successful Knives Out, once again centering a tangerine-skinned Daniel Craig with a preposterous Southern gumbo accent trying to solve an Agatha Christie-ish whodunit where clues appear and vanish like magic coins. As in Christie’s And Then There Were None, the great-grand-mommy of this elimination game, a group of unsuspecting strangers have been summoned for a remote outing only to find themselves at the mercy of machinations that produce many a scream and squeal.

    Here the host is billionaire Miles Bron, played with vapid gusto by Edward Norton and blatantly modeled on Elon Musk, a purported galaxy brain tech visionary who has hoodwinked the press and the public into believing that his company’s innovations all sprung from his fecund brow. Bron’s guests are fellow futurists and disruptors — “Disruptors have assembled!” he cries, as if hailing the Avengers — but there is no question that he is the alpha dude disruptor supremo, its Tony Stark. (One of the many Twitter nicknames hung on Musk is Phony Stark.) A culture-philistine (to use Nietzsche’s term) whose Rothko painting is hung upside down, Bron has come into possession of the actual Mona Lisa, which he hopes to deploy as an ace card to impress world leaders and broker global peace or something equally grandiose. The Mona Lisa in its translucent case is just a MacGuffin to keep everyone’s eyes off of the misdirection. 

    As in the later, glossier Hollywood adaptations of Agatha Christie (the original Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile, not the clomping Kenneth Branagh remakes), Glass Onion unfurls a bright tapestry of brittle pleasantries, shadowy motives, fidgety gestures, ominous foreshadowings, and devious mind games, heightened by the showy entrance of an unexpected intruder — Janelle Monae, who is tasked with projecting old Hollywood Rita Hayworth/Ava Gardner-ish glamor and delivering a flat tire. Old Hollywood homaging as well is Johnson’s penchant for peppering the film with amusing cameo pop-ins: Hugh Grant, Jared Leto, and, making his final screen appearance, Stephen Sondheim, whose co-written script for The Last of Sheila was an inspiration for the Knives Out enterprise. The dolled-up cast seems to be having a grand time, which is part of the Easter egg attraction of these films for entertainment buffs and makes them a harmless exercise in slumming for those of us observing from the sidelines.

    Meanwhile HBO’s The White Lotus miniseries — two seasons thus far, with a third season under construction — also stacks its cast with familiar movie-TV faces but it mixes in provocative newbies to freshen up the entourage and add cosmopolitan flavor. Created, written, and directed by Mike White, whose métier is the comedy of creeping unease, The White Lotus pulled off the feat of formulating its own aesthetic from the outset, a cushy ambiance that provides its own commentary on the action. The affluence on display is a confluence of air and attitude, a state of grace soon to come unpeeled. The new wealth — generated by crypto, software, apps, Tik-tok and Instagram product endorsements, sponsorships, and celebrity appearances, OnlyFans stardom, and new sluices for money laundering — seems to have been conjured from nothing, with no apparent effort from its beneficiaries. It seems to flow wherever they go, and for these surfers of invisible, undulating currents, expensive possessions (art, rare wines, diamond tiaras, Architectural Digest interiors) are less existentially desirable than the supreme ease of movement. They’ve come to expect everyday life to be a series of seamless transitions, like a single gliding Steadicam shot from beautiful dawn to beautiful dusk, not that they pay much attention to either. They are too busy contemplating the wonder of their being and why it doesn’t make them happier, more receptive. 

    One of the ingenious aspects of The White Lotus is how it reveals how narcissists become not just spoiled but infantilized by their idyllic lifestyle fantasies. The slightest hiccup in service or hitch in itinerary and they turn into crybaby complainers, offended by every unscheduled raindrop. It is also the series that has most ingeniously incorporated the incel as a human pathogen and negative-energy capsule. Integral to the series’ sensibility is a pervasive, nullifying affectlessness — a cool, glib, eyes-shaded anomie that comes across as so Californian. Caring about something or someone risks being considered uncool; just breathe in and out the moment, dude. Practicing mindfulness only staves off the demiurges for so long, however. Those looks your spouse is giving you when she lifts her Ray-Bans — they spell trouble.

    The plot intrigues of The White Lotus stress-test the vacationers until they shed their protective coating and expose how their wiring really works under crisis or when temptation beckons. Jungian shadow elements can be teased out most tantalizingly for prestige-TV viewers in a balmy picture-postcard getaway where the characters’ inhibitions and self-defenses melt away. This is the overriding advantage that serial television has over feature film: revelations can be hinted at and winkled out over the course of several episodes rather than blurted out in a single bolt. Pressure becomes more systematically applied. The White Lotus also devised its own clever variation on the Agatha Christie formula. Its first season opens with a coffin being loaded on a plane and the question becomes, Who, among the vacationers we’re about to meet, leaves in a box? Who’s the mystery corpse?

    BC

    Jorma (Henrik Dorsin): I’m very rich. Yes, let’s not beat around the bush. I’m very rich.

    Ludmilla (Carolina Gynning): How rich are you?

    Jarmo: Oh, I’m so fucking rich!

    —shipboard conversation, Triangle of Sadness

    Ruben Oslund’s Triangle of Sadness — the title, not as portentous as it sounds, refers to a geometrical frown patch that can appear between the eyebrows — takes place on a luxury yacht where a soiree of privileged wankers are being feted by an infinitely patient crew. (Luxury yachts are for the depraved-rich genre what opera houses were for Balzac.) Their party is joined by a pair of bodies beautiful, Carl (Harris Dickinson) and Yaya (Charlbi Dean Kriek), he a male model, she an Instagram influencer — a matched set of dollhouse cliches to go with the other loaded stereotypes lounging on the deck. For all of its auteurist mojo handjive (individual chapter titles, a long introductory scene that exhales documentary dead air, a distended running time, a subverting Ironic Twist), the film is a self-pleased demonstration of shlock instincts and facile follow-through. Its cavalier knowingness thinly camouflages a rather sophomoric class struggle on a Ship of Fools (or, if you prefer, a Love Boat of the Damned) which coarsely degenerates into a duel of capitalism vs. Marxism quotation-mongering during a raging storm between the socialist Captain (who doesn’t need a proper name in the credits, given that he’s portrayed by an instantly identifiable Woody Harrelson) and a Reagan-idolizing Russian oligarch (Dimitry, bellowed by Zlatko Buric). 

    As the yacht is buffeted to and fro, their audio chatter counterpoints the passengers’ volleys of projectile vomiting — pea-soup geysers that outdo The Exorcist‘s Linda Blair in spray radius and velocity. After the boat goes down, sparing us any further shots of Harrelson slovenly smacking his lips, a few ragged survivors wash ashore on what appears to be a deserted island. A power reversal ensues as Abigail (Dolly De Leon), the yacht’s lowly cleaner and “toilet manager,” takes charge, and the catered-to have to fend for themselves and barter for favors. Roughing it doesn’t come easy to these softies. This dictatorship of the proletariat seems destined to meet a premature end when it is disclosed that a spa resort lies nestled on the other side of the mountain — who knows, possibly another White Lotus. No matter how far away and Robinson Crusoe-ish an island may seem, cabanas spring up like toadstools and beach umbrellas are planted like victory flags. Global capitalism will not be denied.

    Where Succession, Glass Onion, Triangle of Sadness, and The White Lotus have their slapstick, farcical sides, their jarring pratfalls, The Menu is staged with the solemnity of a Passion Play, which gives its flashes of dark humor far more incision. Directed by Mark Mylod, who has honed his needlepoint precision directing numerous episodes of Succession, The Menu presents a sacrificial rite disguised as a unique dining experience — a masque of the red death with impeccable table arrangements and flawless plating. As with The White Lotus, Triangle of Sadness, and Glass Onion, the experiencers in The Menu are a group of achievers and hangers-on who fancy themselves inside dopesters of discernment. They’re ferried to a remote island — but of course, where else? — for a special multi-course meal prepared by chef assoluto Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes) and his ninja staff. Before each course the chef offers a brief introduction to the dish and a homily intended to add their appreciation of the thought, the finesse, and the distinctive and locally sourced ingredients. “A course of a single raw scallop perched on a craggy rock and surrounded by carefully tweezed seaweed and algaes is virtually indistinguishable from an actual dish at Atelier Crenn, a San Francisco restaurant with three Michelin stars,” The New York Times helpfully reported. Authenticity in details adds to the absurdism of what transpires, the flattering foreplay for la grande bouffe.

    Although the cult of the (male) chef has taken a deserved blow in recent years with the sexual harassment allegations against former numerous television cooking-show celebrities, the mystique remains, which Fiennes wears like an untarnished crown. His Chef Slowik is impresario, emcee, choreographer, wizard, and samurai of the cutting board. His authority radiates from a tight core of uber-willpower, a testimony to Fiennes’s gift for containment and slow release. It’s frightening how his tight smile sometimes lingers a beat too long, surveying the room. Slowik’s control only begins to betray hairline cracks when some of the feeders, instead of accepting their roles as congregants, begin to behave like customers. They ask for additional seasoning, request substitutes, or get overly chatty and show-offy. He declines to alter the menu with a Caesar-like smile that tenses as the evening proceeds and his patience snaps. In his furious pride and concentration in preparation that goes into his dishes, Slowik resembles a five-star extension of Seinfeld’s Soup Nazi. But where the nicknamed Soup Nazi was satisfied to boot and permanently banish annoying customers from his establishment, Fiennes’s Slowik metes out the punishments of a Lord High Executioner. One of the victims, a past-his-prime action star named Georgie Diaz, played by John Leguizamo (and based, says Leguizamo, on Steven Seagal), is condemned for appearing in a film that Slowik saw on his day off, hoping to be entertained. He was not entertained. He was most disappointed. For this, Diaz must pay. It is a tribute to Fiennes that he makes this explanation sound eminently reasonable. Anyone who has sat stonily through an Adam Sandler comedy can sympathize.

    Like the passengers in Triangle of Sadness and the vacationers in The White Lotus, the A-listers in The Menu have become so accustomed to telling others what to do that they don’t know what to do when they have no one to boss around — when they’re the ones being bossed. Even the wait staff doesn’t indulge their piques. The guests’ inner resources have so shriveled from neglect that most of them are unprepared for the impact of what the critic Marvin Mudrick once called “life direct,” and by the time their instincts kick in it’s too late — they’re fodder. The interesting twist in The Menu is not how feebly the diners resist and how quickly they capitulate, but that they and the staff start to accept that perhaps they have earned their place on the pyre. They whimper, they plead, they submit. This is the price for not having lived the right life. This makes for neat allegory, and the tidy violent end — a choreographed die-in — panders to an audience’s yearning for retribution that real-life villains and greedheads seldom face. 

    The sole escapee from the bloodbath and conflagration is Anya Taylor-Joy’s Margot, who munches a simple cheeseburger that Slowik has made for her with care and devotion. By her unpretentious all-American taste and cheeky insubordination, Margot is spared the bonfire of the vanities. She is also granted absolution because no one wants to see Anya Taylor-Joy killed off, just as no one watching season two of The White Lotus would have wanted to have Aubrey Plaza get the tarp pulled over her. In a difficult, perilous time, Hollywood needs a few unexpendables to keep audience identification from being irreparably severed. Leave all-out nihilism to the mad-hatter satirists.

    The problem with most extreme movie satire is that it has nowhere to go but into overkill. From Dr. Strangelove to Don’t Look Up, the nerviest expeditions rely on a cataclysmic finale to spike their message in the end zone. The depiction of class warfare in High-Rise, from 2016, adapted from J. G. Ballard’s novel, descends into chaos, anarchy, orgiastic stabbing, and the roasting of a dead dog’s leg. It’s that kind of film. Glass Onion, after preening its insouciance through reams of repartee and exposition, climaxes in a giddy orgy of glass sculpture smashing and the fiery destruction of the actual Mona Lisa, a priceless touchstone of Western art torched because of a billionaire’s vainglorious ego. 

    The largest discharge is not blood or fire or showering debris but vast deposits of merde. When push comes to shove for the ultra-rich, all crap literally breaks loose. It is almost a psychoanalytical banality, these filmmakers’ preoccupation with this conjunction of wealth, shit, and mortifying incontinence. “’We [know] about the superstition that connects the finding of treasure with defecation,’ Freud wrote in “Character and Anal Eroticism,” to reinforce the point that, on the subconscious level, “feces have always been understood as a form of currency.” (I owe this to Simon van Zuylen-Wood’s jaunty, punny essay on “Feces and the Gold Standard: A Psychological Explanation of Goldbuggery” in The New Republic in 2012.) The Magic Christian, the novel written in 1959 by Terry Southern and adapted into a now-forgotten film a decade later with a mind-boggling cast (Peter Sellers, Ringo Starr, Laurence Harvey, Roman Polanski, and Raquel Welch are among the duped), ends with desperate, greedy saps fishing for pound notes scattered in a large tub filled with urine, fecal waste, and other unpleasantries. The burly Russian oligarch in Triangle of Sadness, who has made his fortune in fertilizer, proclaims himself “The King of Shit!” He keeps crowing the word as if to rub his fellow travelers’ noses in it. The film soon rubs our face in it, too. Its key punchline edit comes when Harrelson’s Captain extols the $250 million craft being pummeled by the elements and the next cut is to a miserable passenger crouched on a soiled toilet. Freud also hypothesized that misers were those held in their stool as children, hoarding money in adulthood, which may support the revelation in Succession that Logan Roy died while trying to fish his iPhone out of a clogged airplane toilet. The symbolism is almost too much.

    This scatological imperium may have been foretold in a Hollywood film that many of us scoffed at in its day, and rightly so. In 1974, at the weary end of the disaster epic The Towering Inferno, the disillusioned architect played by Paul Newman proposed that the burnt-out, windows-shattered one-hundred-and-thirty-five-story hulk be left standing as “a kind of a shrine to all the bullshit in the world.” Even in our Watergate-era cynicism, what naifs we were then. We little suspected how much worse would be in store. The world’s bullshit supply was still in its developmental stage, amassing its resources to achieve full sentience, establish free-market capitalism as the undisputed queen of the ball, and extend privatization into every sphere and cranny of endeavor until much of mankind would be superfluous and disposable, supplanted by intelligent machines. 

    It is in the nature of satire to go too far, but now “too far” scarcely feels far enough, given the enormity of the wealth accumulating to those at the top of the diamond pyramid and the social fissuring below. If there is something punitive and body-horroring about so many of the films and series about the super-rich, it may reflect the frustration that no matter what the crimes and excesses of the Moneygods, karma isn’t coming for them—the fix is in. Their escape pods are loaded up and at the ready. So karma has to be dealt out on screen, with as wicked a hand as necessary and a wham-bang finish. Rough justice may not be real justice, but you take your reckonings where you can get them. 

    After Neurocentrism

    Some thirty years ago, with the launch in 1990 by the Bush administration of the “Decade of the Brain,” neurocentrism took hold in the Western world — America, Japan, and Europe. It held on well into the aughts. Neurocentrism is the belief that the brain is the seat of the mind, that they are in some sense the same entity, and that therefore one can understand mental and psychic life by understanding the brain, which is often dubbed the most complex object in the universe, with its estimated eighty-six billion neurons and hundred trillion or so synaptic connections. As a consequence of discussions about the brain already underway in the 1980s between upper-level American science agencies, councils, and associations, the government awarded generous funding for research in neuroscience, psychology, and neurology. It aimed in large part to address the staggering cost of neurodegenerative diseases, which was (correctly, as it turned out) predicted to increase massively over the next decades, as well as to study the aetiology and the effects of neurological disorders and accidents. 

    An underlying assumption of the program was that it would constitute one of the ultimate achievements of humankind to unravel the brain’s functioning. A similar hope was pinned on genetics, with the Human Genome Project launched in 1990, with a similar equivalence posited between genomes and selves. If one came to grips with the biology, in short, one would finally understand the nature of life, identity, and consciousness. There was an essence that one could seize. Science would yield ultimate truths. In those years a reductionism of mind and life to their constituent parts prevailed; it was galvanized and encouraged by the optimistic ethos of the time. Popular books about the brain, and also about genetics, flourished. To be sure, there existed corners of resistance to reductionism, in the name of phenomenological complexity, with philosophers of mind exploring the nature of consciousness — for instance, a Journal of Consciousness Studies was founded in 1994, which provided a forum for collaborations between philosophical speculation and empirical data, and interdisciplinary conferences on the major topic started taking off then. But this resistance took place within rarefied academic spheres. Neurocentrism was easier for non-specialists to comprehend. 

    Meanwhile the fields of mind sciences grew, and multiplied, separately from biological neurosciences, insofar as the term “mind” designates not a physical entity but the abilities that allow organisms to function in and interact with the world. A “Decade of the Mind” was announced in 2007. The cognitive sciences yielded modular models of the mind, represented for a while as subdivided into mechanisms supposedly developed during the Pleistocene. Importantly, these cognitive sciences were a formidable and fertile response to the behaviorism that had preceded them, insofar as they supposed, in contrast to behaviorist assumptions, that there was indeed such a thing as a mind that could be studied. The association of the cognitive sciences with neuroscience then gave birth to cognitive neuroscience, which made use of imaging technologies to explore mental functions.

    The appearance in 1991 of functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) — a technology that allows one to observe the brain in action — was a historical revolution whose impact on the imagination was not unlike that of the moon landing. It seemed to announce a bold, bright future when one could finally peer into places that had never before been visible. The first steps into this future were taken, however, with a measure of presentist and materialist hubris, and often at the cost of philosophically informed subtlety. Now, three decades later, research and funding continue, and rightly so — but the mood, the priorities, and the assumptions have radically changed. And so it is time to take stock of where the mind sciences are today, and what place these sciences now hold in the collective imagination, especially in light of the bewilderingly rapid evolution of computer science and, most recently, of artificial intelligence — an expression whose assumptions also need parsing.

    At its height, neurocentrism in its excitement generated countless claims about the cerebral location of mental functions, delivered in the media as so many revelations about the “place” of the deepest aspects of human experience — cognition, language, volition, emotion, and even artistic and religious feeling. Experience was “in the brain” and therefore, somehow, better understood, or so went the claims. In this respect, the historical moment was structurally at least reminiscent of phrenology, popular in the early decades of the nineteenth century until it was dismissed as pseudoscience some years later, according to which the brain’s divisions determined personality, qualities, and faults, and mental functions had specific, visible locations and could be measured by bumps of the skull. The neurocentrist excitement was also reminiscent of the older urge to posit a “homunculus” inside the organism to account for its operations — no matter that this created an eternal circularity, since assigning functions to some agent or structure in the brain begs the question of how that agent or structure works in the first place. It begs the question, too, of how one can determine a causal link between the structure and the function. Extracting indubitable causal connections out of a myriad observed correlations remains, as it happens, a central puzzle and problem for brain science, as indeed it is for all sciences. 

    The excitement that was provoked by fMRIs is understandable. Thanks in part to these and other novel imaging technologies, highly important work has emerged since the 1990s, in all fields of neuroscience as well as neurology, in brain anatomy and physiology. A focus on neural networks replaced the erstwhile localizationism, and the identification of the functions of decidedly interconnected brain areas became, and continues to become, more and more fine-grained. Advances in neurophysiology fed into the development of neuropharmacology and of second-generation targeted medications for psychiatric disorders — though the functioning of these pharmaceuticals remains inadequately understood and their use can be controversial. New tools such as optogenetics were born, to study the behaviors of individual neurons. There developed, and there continues to develop, a better understanding of the etiology of various dementias, despite their continued intractability. Since 1990, there has also been the invention of deep brain stimulation (DBS) to counter some of the symptoms of Parkinson’s, and of transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS), a non-invasive technique that acts upon and helps to decode neural activity during specific tasks, such as recall or attention. The genetic basis of some devastating neurological diseases, such as ALS or Huntington’s Chorea, emerged out of these significant studies. The use and applications of computational neuroscience grew tremendously, allowing for the refinement of our understanding of attention, orientation, and vision, or for the creation of brain-computer interfaces that allow paraplegic patients to move again — and the tools and concepts that it deploys grow in sophistication every day. 

    The various imaging technologies, moreover, are growing increasingly refined, in some part because awareness has also grown of how complex it is to interpret the images that these technologies yield. Indeed, it is much more of a cultural given today than it was in 1990 that there are no readable maps of any kind without signposts, nor without readers who know the signposts — and that neither signposts nor readers are devoid of bias. A map is never a one-to-one rendering of what it represents. Studies of the brain are not limited to the interpretation of images, in any case. They can provide support for studies that take place at multiple levels — genes, molecules, neurotransmitters, single neurons, and neural networks — and within numerous interconnected subdisciplines, such as neurophysiology, developmental neuroscience and psychology, social psychology, cognitive and affective neuroscience, computational neuroscience and robotics, all of which converge by now with the many fields pertaining to the cognitive sciences and psychology. With the development of epigenetics, the impact of the environment on infants’ and children’s psychic development, and thence on lifelong mental health, has become much better understood, too. The gene-centric biological determinism that had initially characterized the decade, and that could be used to justify conservative social and educational policies opposing investment in public education, not to mention outright bigotry, thus ended up being undermined by some of the very projects that the Bush administration had underwritten. 

    In other words, neurocentrism is no longer the calling card of the mind sciences. It had come along with public enthusiasm for all things “neuro,” which for a few years became a ubiquitous, homunculus-like predicate in the media and publishing worlds. It then waned by necessity, along with public enthusiasm and neuro-fatigue. Public interest in the neurosciences and psychology does continue to simmer today, especially when they address general issues of psychology and well-being, psychiatric disorders and neurodegenerative diseases, but the reductionist enthusiasm has ebbed — much for the better. 

    Now we have a different problem. The recoil went too far. Related to the change of mood is the less welcome growth of skepticism with regard to scientific research generally. Broadly unaware that scientific results and interpretations are provisional, the public tends at once to overvalue and to undervalue the scientific enterprise — attributing to it a capacity to deliver certainty, as it seemed to do at the height of the neurocentric decade, and dismissing it when this desired certainty is not at hand. This misconception of science is precisely what feeds into pseudosciences like the phrenology of yore and the dangerous myths of today, from anti-vax theories to the denial of climate change. An awareness of what scientific research is and what scientists do is necessary for the proper calibration of trust in the value of their expertise. This holds true for the mind sciences as well. These need to be, and in fact increasingly are, informed by philosophical argument and humanist concerns, since by its very nature, the study of the human mind at work upon itself remains a minefield of confusions. 

    These confusions regarding the scientific study of mind are far from new. The study of the brain as it has been practiced since the late nineteenth century, when the neuroscientist Santiago Ramón y Cajal ushered in modern neuroscience with his discovery of the neuron, is not the study of the mind and the psyche. The study of the brain zooms in on the organ and its microscopic components. The study of the mind, by contrast, starts from observations of human behavior. Studying the brain does indeed provide clues about the mind, but the obverse does not necessarily hold, especially given how complex the brain is. The territory has been mapped, the places named, the sulci and gyri identified, some functions recognized and some mechanisms understood, to some extent — yet so much of it is still unknown. In 2004, the neuroscientist Gerald Edelman entitled a book on consciousness Wider than the Sky: The Phenomenal Gift of Consciousness, a title drawn from the poem by Emily Dickinson — “The Brain — is Wider than the Sky” — that is unavoidable for those who want to conjoin humanist musings about meaning with the hard-edged world of scientific experiments. Edelman offered an attempt, one of many at the time, to show how the brain gives rise to the mind.

    But this does not mean that the brain and the mind are identical. And along with the ebb, since the Decade of the Brain, of reductionist enthusiasm and phrenological equivalence, there have emerged over the past two or three decades increasingly rich theoretical constructs and empirical data bolstering arguments against the identity of mind with brain, arguments that until recently were purely the remit of philosophy. The philosophers may enjoy contemplating the mind at work upon its own processes, as they always have. But today the empiricists — neuroscientists and psychologists — are in a better position to provide answers to some of these philosophical questions. They look at ourselves from without, while trying to build an image of the thinking, subjective entity that we each are. 

    It does seem obvious that without the brain there would be no mind — and no advanced animal life at all. The Hippocratic doctors of ancient Greece were craniocentric, as was Plato — though not Aristotle, who believed that the heart was the seat of it all. But brain and mind are, by definition, different entities. We know what the brain looks like. In contrast, no one has ever seen a mind. Nothing visually contains the mind — not even the brain. The assumption that brain produces mind, at least to some degree, arose at some point in the history of self-conscious humans out of correlations between accidents and behavioral changes, and of course well before the advent of brain imaging. Human psychology, however, concerns persons, not the gooey organ within their skulls. Brains, in sum, are necessary for minds, but minds are not reducible to brains.

    In fact, out of the ancient recognition of how strange it really is that intangible mind should arise out of tangible matter, there was born the renowned “mind-body problem,” which posits the irreducibly mysterious nature of higher mental life and consciousness. The apogee of this problem in the West was the dualism famously perfected in the seventeenth century by Descartes — famously mocked by Gilbert Ryle three centuries later as “the ghost in the machine” — which split apart immaterial mental experience from the material body in which mental life took place. Dualism is a powerful and seductive theory, because thoughts and feelings do not have the concreteness of matter, at least in everyday experience. It also informs religious beliefs about life after death in many societies besides Western ones: the awareness of the self-aware mind goes hand in hand, metaphysically and anthropologically, with the awareness of death. The West was marked by the Cartesian version of dualism, not least because it was compatible, including for Descartes himself, with Christian dogma. Thought and feelings pertained to the immaterial (and therefore immortal) dimension of humans, which was called soul, and non-human animals were considered soulless, mortal mechanisms.

    Within the framework of secular modernity, there was no longer any political need to please the Church with a metaphysical doctrine of human exceptionalism. With Darwinian evolution, and the accompanying reconception of humans as evolved animals, human cognition and emotion could be studied in scientific rather than metaphysical terms. From the late nineteenth century, scientific psychology, as established most notably by William James in America, Wilhelm Wundt in Germany, and Théodule Ribot in France, began to parse our corporeal beings, and did away with any immaterial soul. (In this regard James’ view of spiritual life was an exception within scientific materialism.) The psychology that emerged then took as a given that subjectivity could be studied through a combination of observation, introspection, measurement, clinical evidence, and philosophical acumen. 

    But scientific psychology did not put the mind-body problem to rest. The anxiety bred by the conception of ourselves as mortal animals has never gone away. Religious feeling persists in all corners of the world. And the metaphysics of mind are not reducible to the science of mind: the mind-body problem has remained in the philosophical conversation of the last and current centuries, in particular with the so-called “hard problem” of consciousness, in the formula of the philosopher David Chalmers. As he contended in 1996, however successful we may become at parsing the mechanisms involved in “the cognitive and behavioral functions in the vicinity of experience,” missing from the picture are the qualia of experience — that is, what it is like to have any experience at all, in the oft-quoted words of Thomas Nagel, whose essay “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?,” published in 1974 remains a reference point for the anti-materialist argument. The problem as Chalmers states it delimits conceptually the bounds within which an empirical account can have explanatory power, and beyond which it acts somewhat like snow that will not stick to a persistently slippery terrain. On this view, experience and biology partake of two different orders, and so consciousness necessarily escapes the physiological mechanisms that make it up. 

    Not everyone agrees that there is a “hard problem,” however: the snow, so to say, could eventually stick. The neuroscientists who study the nature of felt experience take for granted that it is a biological phenomenon through and through, and on a continuum between lower-order and higher-order mechanisms. Their concerns are not philosophical: the existence or not of the problem of consciousness is not relevant to their empirical research. And it is noteworthy that the notion of a “hard problem” arose as such — as a problem — precisely at the height of the neurocentrist Decade of the Brain, when, with materialist reductionism at its apogee, the old mind-body dualism was replaced with a brain-body dualism that split the brain apart from the rest of the body. This split ensured that cognition was studied apart from the embodied brain, irrespective of the biology involved in cerebral activity, of cell physiology, of genetics, and also of the environment in which the living organism develops and lives. It fed into the development of computational neuroscience, and of its conception of cognition as disembodied and affectless, out of the cybernetics of earlier decades. It also sundered the continuum between lower-level mechanisms that Chalmers, like his early modern predecessors, had deemed available for empirical study, and the higher-order ones that he deemed indeed impregnable to empirical accounts. Now the human animal was as if split into three parts: machine-like brains, machine-like bodies, and disembodied minds. 

    This brain-body dualism has begun to diminish only recently, over the past two or three decades. But this is the case mostly within some circles of psychologists, for everyday language tends to remain dualistic — “it’s all in the mind” means that it is not real; emotions are conceived to float in an abstract realm; your body “belongs” to you; and so on. (Early in his memoirs Bertrand Russell recalled a philosophically amusing old adage: “What mind? No matter. What matter? Never mind.”) Some areas of philosophical speculation are still conducted as if biology were entirely incidental, in an enactment of the dualist stance, in part because the conceptual structure is missing for a proper integration of scientific theories into philosophy. Yet from its earliest beginnings philosophical contemplation overlapped with empirical observation. When Thales asserted that all is water, he offered an empirical description as well as a metaphysics. Etymologically, metaphysics is what comes “after the study of nature,” sequentially after Aristotle’s Physics, later denoting what transcends empirical study. And until the modern era philosophers were also “natural philosophers” — scientists, in other words — who conducted empirical enquiry. 

    Today we do have the tools to construct empirical answers to philosophical questions about the nature of self and mind: what we need to develop now are the tools to understand philosophically these empirical answers, to develop a proper “science humanism.” Yet owing to the divisions between disciplines, few humanists pay attention to science — just as few scientists are in a position to “humanize” their research. In recent decades, there even have been attempts in the humanities and social sciences to dissolve matter and deny the empirical character of science entirely, by making it into just another human expression — social constructionist models that envision biology entirely as a phenomenon that cannot be known apart from the context in which it is theorized, of import only as a cultural occurrence. Computational neuroscience, meanwhile, yields increasingly complex models of a disincarnate “mind,” while what the world knows as “artificial intelligence” is surpassing some aspects of human cognitive competence at increasing speed. 

    Despite these admittedly powerful and often concealed redoubts of dualism, a growing number of researchers in neuroscience and psychology are now taking on board how the brain is in fact interconnected with the body —and that, as the neuroscientist Antonio Damasio has put it, the brain serves the body, rather than the other way round. This is so because, like all else on earth, the brain has evolved into its present shape out of primitive life. As Damasio described it in 2018 in his The Strange Order of Things: Life, Feeling, and the Making of Cultures, from the brainless single-cell organism, such as bacteria, endowed with the capacity to perceive and act upon its perceptions, grew increasingly complex multi-cellular organisms that eventually developed nervous systems to coordinate their multiple parts. Bodies evolutionarily precede the brains that serve them, and consciousness, as indeed all higher mental function, is an upshot of processes internal to the evolution of life. Mental experience encapsulates felt experience, and without the body there would be no feeling — nor any brain, either. 

    This is also why it is no longer possible to hold on to the old story according to which the faculty to reason and to contemplate cosmos, life, and self is a function of a disembodied thinking thing — Descartes’s res cogitans, posited in opposition to the extended bodily thing, res extensa. With his epochal Descartes’s Error, which appeared in 1994, at the height of the neurocentric moment — and based on imaging research conducted with his wife Hanna Damasio —Damasio first explained how, without emotional activity and input, deliberations that seemed to partake of rational evaluation were disabled. From then on, and via their subsequent research and his writings, Damasio was at the forefront of neuroscientists who showed how central emotion is to our highest faculties, and how the notion of a disembodied brain, let alone a disembodied mind, is a fantasy that has nothing to do with our biological reality. The so-called “affective turn” in neurosciences and psychology was launched. Research on emotions accelerated, not only in the sciences but also in philosophy and, more recently, the social sciences: the rationalist and cognitivist canon remains, but emotions are finally being considered centrally. Unlike a thought, a feeling is much less easily mistaken for an abstraction untethered from experience. Whether or not a thought is incorporeally determined, as Descartes believed, having a feeling entails experiencing a physical sensation. And so the “affective turn” was conducive to the notion of the person as a psycho-somatic unity. 

    In the 1990s philosophers also insisted that the mind must be understood not only as embodied, but also as embedded, enactive, and extended within the environment with which it interacts dynamically — that our experience is the upshot of this dynamic interaction of brain and body in relation to the world, and that our minds are a dimension of this interactivity. In fact, this conception of the body’s relation to thought and experience had already been central to phenomenology in the late writings of Edmund Husserl and, monumentally, in Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s Phenomenology of Perception, which appeared in 1945. On this approach, known as “4E cognition,” our tools are also aspects of minds that extend beyond individual skulls. It is misleading, in this account, to contemplate minds in isolation, since we have evolved as social beings. The subject is primarily “intersubjective,” as the philosophers Emmanuel Lévinas and Paul Ricoeur argued, following Merleau-Ponty. The first-person, interactive, felt experience that phenomenology embraces as necessary to our self-understanding has re-entered the realm of science, which is filling in the philosophical picture. A number of philosophers and scientists have joined this phenomenological approach with some aspects of Buddhism, most notably Francisco Varela, whose The Embodied Mind: Cognitive Science and Human Experience, written with Eleanor Rosch and Evan Thompson and published in 1992, marked a turn for students of cognitive science who believed that scientific investigation of the mind must begin with subjectivity. 

    Since then, our understanding of corporeal subjectivity, from the bottom up rather than from cognitive heights, as it were, has grown tremendously. It depicts the central nervous system — brain and spinal cord — as crucially interconnected with the peripheral nervous system, which includes the somatic and autonomic nervous systems. Feelings from skin, muscles, skeleton, and viscera are processed in the brain which monitors their functioning, yielding what is known as interoception. In turn, interoception meshes with and acts upon exteroception, the perception of external stimuli via the five sense modalities. Together these sense-perceptions constitute our very sense of self. 

    The study of interoception has intensified among psychologists over the past decade or so, yielding insights into the somatic basis of the self, the centrality of emotions to its constitution and of bodily states to awareness, well-being and illness. In the words of the neuroanatomist Arthur D. Craig, whose research on the topic has been foundational for the many studies that have multiplied since, interoception is “the sense of the physiological condition of the body,” whether conscious or not. Interoceptive signals travel along specific neural pathways from all bodily systems from skin to gut — vasomotor, cardiac, digestive, sexual, respiratory — and include the sensing of pleasure, pain, hunger, thirst, temperature. They are processed in particular in an area within the cerebral cortex called the insula. Increasingly targeted and sophisticated studies are showing how our sense of self is indexed on these dynamic perceptions and on the brain’s constantly predicting internal bodily states. In turn, these processes reflect the homeostatic regulation of the organism within an always changing world, without which it would not be viable. These constant feedback processes “provide the basis for the subjective image of the material self as a feeling (sentient) entity, that is, emotional awareness,” as Craig puts it. Consciousness, according to this analysis, is the upshot of the neurally encoded capacity to represent these processes as feelings. And in turn, these feelings are indications of our fluctuating bodily states within the world of non-selves, which shapes who we become from infancy on. As many researchers are showing, including developmental psychologists, or the neuroscientist Vittorio Gallese with his notion of “embodied simulation,” we are intersubjective from birth: without others, we do not develop stable selves. And because this multi-pronged and conceptually rich body of ongoing research begins with the subject, it avoids the conundrum that was faced by the disincarnate sciences of the mind that were developed in the age of reductionism, and which resulted in the “hard problem” of consciousness. No, we are not “just” our brains, and this current science is showing how that is the case.

    With this intense focus on the biological underpinnings of the self as a dynamic entity that is embodied, interactive, and intersubjective, as opposed to disembodied, fixed, and isolated, experimental sciences are meshing with philosophical speculations. They had been conjoined in antiquity — Aristotle, remember, was a metaphysician and an empiricist — and to some degree in early modernity, when Descartes, too, practiced empirical research. They met again in the late nineteenth century. Now, armed with insights from phenomenology, daring at last to use the first-person as a starting point for scientific inquiry, we are digging deep into our flesh, extracting from its infinitely complex layers the very consciousness that, for so long, seemed always to escape us. In so doing, we are also building the scientific picture underlying what millions look for and experience in practicing yoga and other somatic disciplines. The insights from yoga comport nicely with the discoveries of phenomenology.

    As we can see from this brief history biological reality is never a neutral given: scientists start from preconceptions about the nature of their object of study. The names on the maps are not inherent to the maps. They must be coined, and they are not fixed, either. Scientific research always takes place within a cultural context that informs its priorities. While it is not reducible to its context, bias is always present. And over the last few decades, cultural context has been partially responsible for this increased attention to the body, which, not surprisingly, has also become central within literature and the arts, humanities, and social sciences. Popular culture, certainly, is body-obsessed in complex ways. But more positively, outside the dualist redoubts that persist in some academic circles, some religious communities, and generally in folk psychology, it is acceptable and even necessary to say today that humans are embodied creatures among other embodied creatures, in the sense that our feeling and sensing body is centrally constitutive of what we are. Cognitive sciences now ally also with anthropology to study embodied and extended cognition — how homo sapiens is the begetter and user not only of symbolic languages but of tools and artifacts. We adapt to our environments, while extending our selves, and building cultures of and with things: humans live within artifactual rather than natural settings. 

    This re-centering of the study of humans onto the body — and of the human body onto the natural world — is an aspect also of the ecological emergency. It is now painfully clear that the old notion of our supposed superiority over other animals, and our lording it over the whole of nature, has been arrogant and destructive. (The pandemic was a reminder of this: viruses can stop us if we invade wild territories — such as bat havens — that are not ours to enter.) The very consciousness that seemed to be our privilege — for long in the guise of the old rational soul — is in fact organically based, an outgrowth of a natural process, and indeed we can best understand it in relation to the consciousness of other animals, which is increasingly studied as well. This is a return not only to the late nineteenth-century roots of scientific psychology, but even earlier, to Lucretius, who wrote in On the Nature of Things that “mind and spirit are both composed of matter,” and to the seventeenth-century “libertines” who adopted Lucretian materialism. 

    It is always tempting to balk at this materialist picture and to reify our self-consciousness into an abstract Cartesian entity. But in doing so we forget that our very capacity for self-consciousness, material as it really must be (what goes on in the mind or between minds by definition goes on in the body or between bodies), allows precisely for the capacity to do so, and for us to be taken in by our very capacity. Daniel Dennett suggests something that seems similar, with his notion of consciousness as illusory, but he believes that consciousness is “just” an illusion — and that is emphatically not the point that I am making here. Rather, consciousness as we experience and understand it is a materially and ontologically real capacity, but we are unable to understand how it arises precisely because that is its all-too-human limit in humans. There is only so much that our brains can do. Animal consciousness is also real, but it probably does not extend to this multiplication ad infinitum bred by our self-reflection in a hall of mirrors.

    And so we cannot leave our self-definition there. We are animals, and knowing that we are helps us to understand ourselves. But in virtue of our highly complex brains, we also differ from the other animals in ways that we need to comprehend in order to understand ourselves. Only humans study consciousness: our metacognition, that is, our self-reflexive awareness, does seem to define us and constitute our apartness. That very thought, in turn, is another instance of our self-reflective metacognition, which is the root and stuff of history, philosophy, art, science — of culture, in short, which in its variegated manifestations remains our human prerogative. Other animals can be acculturated, birds may learn specific songs, chimps can learn tool use and mating behaviors — such processes exist throughout the natural realm. But our very nature is defined by the cultural dimension, and the variety of human cultures is potentially infinite: the sciences of the mind are therefore bound by their inevitably cultural structure and mission. 

    No other creature is interested in its brain or has an idea of a mind — in fact, the very concepts of “mind” and “culture” are themselves cultural artifacts, developed within anthropology and related disciplines. And so, the notion that all species may have a kind of consciousness is asymmetrical: we may attribute it to our dog, say, but the dog does not know this in the way that we do, nor will it be aware that, like us, it may in turn be attributing consciousness to us. At any rate, whatever awareness it has is not elaborated further than its experiencing it. It may share with us mechanisms of attention and volition, it may experience anger and joy, but it does not study how, or ask why, these mechanisms and emotions occur. Neither dogs nor dolphins, neither elephants nor octopuses, study anthropology or philosophy — or write diaries or poems or books. What characterizes our species, besides our elaborate tools, is our propensity for introspection and abstraction, for projecting ourselves into the future on the basis of the remembered past, for imagining what is not present — using elaborate symbolic forms to embody the non-present, as Suzanne Langer emphasized — and, finally, for constructing cultures out of our awareness of death. We also make stories, theories, and trouble out of our perceptions and predictions.

    This human prerogative, which in some instances we may call tragic, is also what defines us in relation to the increasingly sophisticated artificial agents that we are creating — the ultimate artifacts, which may seem to act and look more and more like us. There is no turning back: as technology gains in power, we face the need to re-assert the bounds of our humanity, in contrast to the kinds of faculties that are displayed by these artificial agents. There will be similarities, of course, but the differences are what will define us. Certainly these machines are farther away from us than are the non-human animals to whom we may attribute consciousness. They are neither born nor mortal. They are not biological, they have not evolved over millions of years as bodies that flexibly adapt to a fluctuating environment, they are not constituted of billions of proteins, molecules, cells, an immune system, hormones, enzymes, and neurotransmitters, and they are not conceived within the body of another mortal. In short, they are not “wet,” as Siri Hustvedt put it in her important essay “The Delusions of Certainty.” 

    Yet we are increasingly merging large aspects of our identities and activities with the electronic circuits that we have created. Gmail retains traces of our lives better than we do — though that does not mean that it “remembers,” because memory is made of dynamic processes that pertain to a self, a self that forgets as much as it remembers, and therefore differs entirely from the storage system of AI. Memory is emotionally valenced, and AI entities do not have emotions, so far. Granted, robots are multipart systems, and though they are now able to learn how to navigate within changing environments, they begin their “lives” as circuits stored within the artificial body, in contrast to our nervous system, which is the upshot of dynamic embodied processes. Our minds are not incidentally “housed within” a body: as is becoming clearer in our post-dualist age, it is precisely because there are bodies — complex biological systems — that there are minds. What is bewildering today is that we have developed the capability to reverse these age-old bottom-up processes and engineer mind-like mechanisms out of algorithms. We are able to build these machines, though, thanks in part to our understanding of the brain and the embodied mind, and it is no secret that one motivation for the public support of neuroscience over the past decades has been its utility to the AI that increasingly, and with perplexing speed, undergirds all aspects of our private, social, economic, cultural, and political lives. 

    Something else is missing from AI besides emotions — simple ones like fear or complex ones like shame, ambivalence, nostalgia, melancholy. It is the need for meaning, which is inscribed within the narrative patterning of the human mind from birth onward. The sense of both individual and collective history and belonging. And the sense of beauty, the poignancy of finality, physical desire, the pleasure of food; and the sense AI agents do not somatize illnesses, feel pain, suffer from exhaustion, have anxiety attacks or depressive episodes; they do not have eating disorders or develop dementia; they do not enjoy the garden in the spring, have sex, fall in love. They do not feel claustrophobic if stuck too long in one place, or travel for pleasure, or make war or murder or take drugs. They can also lie; perhaps one day they will know how to lie willingly, instead of just proliferating false information. They know” a great number of things, but nothing about the meaningful narrative that makes up a mortal life. 

    It is legitimate — and an obligation of our moment — to be concerned about the growing power of these artificial agents. But to worry that they could replace us is to forget what humans are. The misplaced worry is itself worrisome. It stems from the same faulty intuition that for so long led humans to ignore their potentially ailing bodies, or to suppose that a brain could just as well grow in a vat. We tend to mistake models for reality and brain maps for minds, to scant or entirely neglect how phenomenologically complex and sensorially rich each experienced moment really is. We project onto machines our all-too-human fears and hopes. Yet it is only by understanding ourselves better that we will be able to develop the culture of care that we need to confront the crises of our time. Care was not a priority in the heady days of 1990s optimism, when knowledge of the brain was touted as the route to enlightenment. But it is so today, all the more that the forces of reaction are ascendant. Against these, and in order to advance self-understanding, we should build an alliance of the psychologists, neuroscientists, and engineers with the philosophers, artists and historians. Such an alliance would enable us never to lose sight of our humanity, whose redefinition only humans can forge.