An Animated Introduction to Baruch Spinoza: The “Philosopher’s Philosopher”

The so-called Enlight­en­ment peri­od encom­pass­es a sur­pris­ing­ly diverse col­lec­tion of thinkers, if not always in eth­nic or nation­al ori­gin, at least in intel­lec­tu­al dis­po­si­tion, includ­ing per­haps the age’s most influ­en­tial philoso­pher, the “philosopher’s philoso­pher,” writes Assad Mey­man­di. Baruch Spin­oza did not fit the image of the bewigged philoso­pher-gen­tle­man of means we tend to pop­u­lar­ly asso­ciate with Enlight­en­ment thought.

He was born to a fam­i­ly of Sephardic Por­tuguese Mar­ra­nos, Jews who were forced to con­vert to Catholi­cism but who reclaimed their Judaism when they relo­cat­ed to Calvin­ist Ams­ter­dam. Spin­oza him­self was “excom­mu­ni­cat­ed by Ams­ter­dam Jew­ry in 1656,” writes Harold Bloom in a review of Rebec­ca Goldstein’s Betray­ing Spin­oza: “The not deeply cha­grined 23-year-old Spin­oza did not become a Calvin­ist, and instead con­sort­ed with more lib­er­al Chris­tians, par­tic­u­lar­ly Men­non­ites.”

Spin­oza read “Hebrew, paleo-Hebrew, Aara­ma­ic, Greek, Latin, and to some degree Ara­bic,” writes Mey­man­di. “He was not a Mus­lim, but behaved like a Sufi in that he gave away all his pos­ses­sions to his step sis­ter. He was heav­i­ly influ­enced by Al Ghaz­a­li, Baba Taher Oryan, and Al Fara­bi.” He is also “usu­al­ly count­ed, along with Descartes and Leib­niz, as one of the three major Ratio­nal­ists,” Loy­ola pro­fes­sor Blake D. Dut­ton notes at the Inter­net Ency­clo­pe­dia of Phi­los­o­phy, a thinker who “made sig­nif­i­cant con­tri­bu­tions in vir­tu­al­ly every area of phi­los­o­phy.”

One might say with­out exag­ger­a­tion that it is impos­si­ble to under­stand Enlight­en­ment think­ing with­out read­ing this most het­ero­dox of thinkers, and in par­tic­u­lar read­ing his Ethics, which is itself no easy task. In this work, as Alain de Bot­ton puts it in his School of Life intro­duc­tion to Spin­oza above, the philoso­pher tried “to rein­vent reli­gion, mov­ing it away from some­thing based on super­sti­tion and direct divine inter­ven­tion to some­thing that is far more imper­son­al, qua­si-sci­en­tif­ic, and yet also, at times, serene­ly con­sol­ing.”

One might draw sev­er­al lines from Spin­oza to Sagan and also to Wittgen­stein and oth­er mod­ern skep­tics. His cri­tiques of such cher­ished con­cepts as prayer and a per­son­al rela­tion­ship with a deity did not qual­i­fy him as a reli­gious thinker in any ortho­dox sense, and he was derid­ed as an “athe­ist Jew” in his time. But he took reli­gion, and reli­gious awe, very seri­ous­ly, even if Spinoza’s God is indis­tin­guish­able from nature. To imag­ine that this great, mys­te­ri­ous enti­ty should bend the rules to suit our indi­vid­ual needs and desires con­sti­tutes a “deeply dis­tort­ed, infan­tile nar­cis­sism” in Spinoza’s esti­ma­tion, says de Bot­ton.

For Spin­oza, a mature ethics instead con­sists in find­ing out how the uni­verse works and accept­ing it, rather in the way of the Sto­ics or Nietzsche’s use of the Sto­ic idea of amor fati. It is with­in such accep­tance, what Bloom calls Spinoza’s “icy sub­lim­i­ty,” that true enlight­en­ment is found, accord­ing to Spin­oza. Or as the de Bot­ton video suc­cinct­ly puts it: “The free per­son is the one who is con­scious of the neces­si­ties that com­pel us all,” and who—instead of rail­ing against them—finds cre­ative ways to live with­in their lim­i­ta­tions peace­ful­ly.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Voltaire: Enlight­en­ment Philoso­pher of Plu­ral­ism & Tol­er­ance

The Diderot Effect: Enlight­en­ment Philoso­pher Denis Diderot Explains the Psy­chol­o­gy of Con­sumerism & Our Waste­ful Spend­ing

How to Teach and Learn Phi­los­o­phy Dur­ing the Pan­dem­ic: A Col­lec­tion of 450+ Phi­los­o­phy Videos Free Online

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

88 Philosophy Podcasts to Help You Answer the Big Questions in Life

The big ques­tions of phi­los­o­phy, sim­mer­ing since antiq­ui­ty, still press upon us as they did the Athe­ni­ans of old (and all ancient peo­ple who have phi­los­o­phized): what oblig­a­tions do we real­ly owe to fam­i­ly, friends, or strangers? Do we live as free agents or beings con­trolled by fate or the gods (or genes or a com­put­er sim­u­la­tion)? What is a good life? How do we cre­ate soci­eties that max­i­mize free­dom and hap­pi­ness (or what­ev­er ulti­mate val­ues we hold dear)? What is lan­guage, what is art, and where did they come from?

These ques­tions may not be answered with a brute appeal to facts, though with­out sci­ence we are grop­ing in the dark. Reli­gion takes big ques­tions seri­ous­ly but tells con­verts to take its super­nat­ur­al answers on faith. “Between the­ol­o­gy and sci­ence there is a No Man’s Land,” writes Bertrand Rus­sell, “exposed to attack from both sides; this No Man’s Land is phi­los­o­phy.” Phi­los­o­phy reach­es beyond cer­tain­ty, to “spec­u­la­tions on mat­ters as to which def­i­nite knowl­edge has, so far, been unascer­tain­able.” And yet, like sci­ence, “it appeals to human rea­son rather than author­i­ty.”

The con­cerns of phi­los­o­phy have nar­rowed since Russell’s time, not to men­tion the time of Socrates, put to death for lead­ing the youth astray. But pro­fes­sors of phi­los­o­phy still raise the ire of the pub­lic, accused of seduc­ing stu­dents from the safe spaces of sacred dog­ma and sec­u­lar util­i­ty. “To study phi­los­o­phy,” wrote Cicero, “is noth­ing but to pre­pare one­self to die.” It is a poet­ic turn of phrase, and yes, we must con­front mor­tal­i­ty, but phi­los­o­phy also asks us to con­front the lim­its of human knowl­edge and pow­er in the face of the unknown. Dan­ger­ous indeed.

Should you decide to embark on this jour­ney your­self, you will meet with no small num­ber of fel­low trav­el­ers along the way. Bring some ear­phones, you can hear them in the trove of 88 phi­los­o­phy pod­casts com­piled on the phi­los­o­phy web­site Dai­ly Nous. â€śHow many phi­los­o­phy pod­casts are there?” asks Dai­ly Nous, who brings us this list. “Over 80, and they take a vari­ety of forms.” See 15 below, with descrip­tions, see the rest at Dai­ly Nous, and enjoy your sojourn into “no man’s land.”

See the full list here. And explore our col­lec­tion of 200 Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es here.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

Learn Phi­los­o­phy with a Wealth of Free Cours­es, Pod­casts and YouTube Videos

Oxford’s Free Intro­duc­tion to Phi­los­o­phy: Stream 41 Lec­tures

Dis­cov­er the Cre­ative, New Phi­los­o­phy Pod­cast Hi-Phi Nation: The First Sto­ry-Dri­ven Show About Phi­los­o­phy

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The Japanese Traditions of Sashiko & Boro: The Centuries-Old Craft That Mends Clothes in a Sustainable, Artistic Way

The state of our trou­bled plan­et dic­tates that dis­pos­ables are out.

Reusables are in.

And any­one who’s taught them­selves how to mend and main­tain their stuff has earned the right to flaunt it!

A quick scroll through Insta­gram reveals loads of vis­i­ble mend­ing projects that high­light rather than dis­guise the area of repair, draw­ing the eye to con­trast­ing threads rein­forc­ing a thread­bare knee, frayed cuff, ragged rip, or moth hole.

While some prac­ti­tion­ers take a freeform approach, the most pleas­ing stitch­es tend to be in the sashiko tra­di­tion.

Sashiko—fre­quent­ly trans­lat­ed as “lit­tle stabs”—was born in Edo peri­od Japan (1603–1868), when rur­al women attempt­ed to pro­long the life of their fam­i­lies’ tat­tered gar­ments and bed­ding, giv­ing rise to a hum­ble form of white-on-indi­go patch­work known as boro.

While sashiko can at times be seen serv­ing a pure­ly dec­o­ra­tive func­tion, such as on a very well pre­served Mei­ji peri­od jack­et in the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art’s col­lec­tion, its pri­ma­ry use was always one born of neces­si­ty.

As Austin Bryant notes on Hed­dels, a news and edu­ca­tion web­site ded­i­cat­ed to sus­tain­able goods:

Over gen­er­a­tions of fam­i­lies, these tex­tiles would acquire more and more patch­es, almost to the point of the com­mon observ­er being unable to rec­og­nize where the orig­i­nal fab­ric began. As they recov­ered after the end of World War II, to some the boro tex­tiles remind­ed the Japan­ese of their impov­er­ished rur­al past.

Keiko & Atsushi Futat­suya are a moth­er-and-son arti­san team whose posts on sashiko and boro go beyond straight­for­ward how-tos to delve into cul­tur­al his­to­ry.

Accord­ing to them, the goal of sashiko should not be aes­thet­i­cal­ly pleas­ing rows of uni­form stitch­es, but rather “enjoy­ing the dia­logue” with the fab­ric.

As Atsushi explains in an Insta­gram post, view­ers see­ing their work with a West­ern per­spec­tive may respond dif­fer­ent­ly than those who have grown up with the ele­ments in play:

This is a pho­to of a “Boro-to-be Jack­et” in the process. This is the back (hid­ing) side of the jack­et and many non-Japan­ese would say this should be the front and should show to the pub­lic. The Japan­ese would under­stand why it is a back­side nat­u­ral­ly, but I would need to “explain” to the non-Japan­ese who do not share the same val­ue (why we) pur­pose­ful­ly make this side as “hid­ing” side. That’s why, I keep shar­ing in words. One pic­ture may be worth a thou­sand words, but the thou­sand words may be com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent based on their (free) inter­pre­ta­tion. In shar­ing the cul­ture, some “actu­al words” would be also very impor­tant.

To try your hand at sashiko, you will need a long nee­dle, such as a cot­ton darn­ing nee­dle, white embroi­dery thread, and—for boro—an aging tex­tile in need of some atten­tion.

Should you find your­self slid­ing into a full blown obses­sion, you may want to order sashiko nee­dles and thread, and a palm thim­ble to help you push through sev­er­al weights of fab­ric simul­ta­ne­ous­ly.

You’ll find many pat­terns, tips, and tuto­ri­als on the Futat­suya family’s Sashi.co YouTube chan­nel.

via Vox

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

20 Mes­mer­iz­ing Videos of Japan­ese Arti­sans Cre­at­ing Tra­di­tion­al Hand­i­crafts

See How Tra­di­tion­al Japan­ese Car­pen­ters Can Build a Whole Build­ing Using No Nails or Screws

Explore the Beau­ti­ful Pages of the 1902 Japan­ese Design Mag­a­zine Shin-Bijut­sukai: Euro­pean Mod­ernism Meets Tra­di­tion­al Japan­ese Design

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Watch Cornel West’s Free Online Course on W.E.B. Du Bois, the Great 20th Century Public Intellectual

A giant of 20th cen­tu­ry schol­ar­ship, W.E.B. Du Bois’ career spanned six decades, two World Wars, and sev­er­al waves of civ­il rights and decolo­nial move­ments; he saw the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry with more clar­i­ty than per­haps any­one of his gen­er­a­tion through the lens of “dou­ble con­scious­ness”;  he wrote pre­scient­ly about geopol­i­tics, polit­i­cal econ­o­my, insti­tu­tion­al racism, impe­ri­al­ism, and the cul­ture and his­to­ry of both black and white Amer­i­cans; we find in near­ly all of his work pierc­ing obser­va­tions that seem to look direct­ly at our present con­di­tions, while ana­lyz­ing the con­di­tions of his time with rad­i­cal rig­or.

“An activist and a jour­nal­ist, a his­to­ri­an and a soci­ol­o­gist, a nov­el­ist, a crit­ic, and a philoso­pher,” notes the Stan­ford Ency­clo­pe­dia of Phi­los­o­phy, Du Bois “exam­ined the race prob­lem in its many aspects more pro­found­ly, exten­sive­ly, and sub­tly” than “any­one, at any time.” And there is no one more flu­ent in the ver­nac­u­lars, lit­er­a­tures, and philoso­phies Du Bois mas­tered than Cor­nel West, who lays out for us what this means:

Du Bois, like Pla­to, like Shake­speare, like Toni Mor­ri­son, like Thomas Pyn­chon, like Vir­ginia Woolf…. What do they do? They push you against a wall: heart, mind, soul. Struc­tures and insti­tu­tions, vicious forms of sub­or­di­na­tion, but also joy­ful and hero­ic forms of cri­tique and resis­tance.

West begins his course on Du Bois—delivered in the sum­mer of 2017 at Dart­mouth—with this descrip­tion (things get going in the first lec­ture at 3:15 after the course intro), which ges­tures toward the com­par­a­tive, “call and response,” dis­cus­sion to come. All nine lec­tures from “The His­tor­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy of W.E.B. Du Bois” (plus an addi­tion­al pub­lic talk West deliv­ered at the uni­ver­si­ty) are avail­able at Dart­mouth’s Depart­ment of Eng­lish and Cre­ative Writ­ing site, as well as this YouTube playlist.

The course fol­lows the move­ment of Du Bois’ com­plex his­tor­i­cal phi­los­o­phy and pio­neer­ing use of schol­ar­ly autobiography—(what West calls the “cul­ti­va­tion” of a “crit­i­cal self”)—through a num­ber of themes, from “Du Bois and the Cat­a­stroph­ic 20th Cen­tu­ry” to, in the final lec­ture, “Rev­o­lu­tion, Race, and Amer­i­can Empire.” It begins with 1903’s The Souls of Black Folk, in which Du Bois first wrote of dou­ble con­scious­ness and penned the famous line, “The prob­lem of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry is the prob­lem of the col­or-line.”

West puts close read­ings of that sem­i­nal work next to “sub­se­quent essays in [Du Bois’] mag­is­te­r­i­al cor­pus, espe­cial­ly his clas­sic auto­bi­og­ra­phy Dusk of Dawn (1940),” the course descrip­tion reads. The lat­ter text is not only a Bil­dung, a “spir­i­tu­al auto­bi­og­ra­phy,” Du Bois called it, but also a crit­i­cal analy­sis of sci­ence and empire, white­ness, pro­pa­gan­da, world war, rev­o­lu­tion, and a con­cep­tu­al­iza­tion of race that sees the idea’s arbi­trary illog­ic, in the “con­tin­u­ous change in the proofs and argu­ments advanced.” These ideas became for­ma­tive for anti-colo­nial, anti-impe­r­i­al, and Pan-African move­ments.

Du Bois first formed his “rad­i­cal cos­mopoli­tanism,” as Gunter Lenz writes in The Jour­nal of Transna­tion­al Amer­i­can Stud­ies, dur­ing his stud­ies in Ger­many, where he arrived in 1892 and found him­self, he wrote, “on the out­side of the Amer­i­can world, look­ing in.” He returned to Ger­many over the decades and, in a 1936 vis­it, was one of the few pub­lic intel­lec­tu­als who pre­dict­ed a “world war on Jews” and “all non-Nordic races.” But Du Bois not only con­front­ed the geno­ci­dal wars and helped lead the lib­er­a­to­ry move­ments of the 20th cen­tu­ry; he also, with uncan­ny per­spi­cac­i­ty, both antic­i­pat­ed and shaped the strug­gles of the 21st. Access West­’s full lec­ture course here.

West­’s course, “The His­tor­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy of W.E.B. Du Bois,” will be added to our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Free Online His­to­ry Cours­es

Take Free Online Cours­es on African-Amer­i­can His­to­ry from Yale and Stan­ford: From Eman­ci­pa­tion, to the Civ­il Rights Move­ment, and Beyond

W.E.B. Du Bois Cre­ates Rev­o­lu­tion­ary, Artis­tic Data Visu­al­iza­tions Show­ing the Eco­nom­ic Plight of African-Amer­i­cans (1900)

W.E.B. Du Bois Dev­as­tates Apol­o­gists for Con­fed­er­ate Mon­u­ments and Robert E. Lee (1931)

Daniel Den­nett and Cor­nel West Decode the Phi­los­o­phy of The Matrix

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

What Voltaire Meant When He Said That “We Must Cultivate Our Garden”: An Animated Introduction

“Voltaire’s goal in writ­ing [his 1759 satire Can­dide] was to destroy the opti­mism of his times,” says Alain de Bot­ton in the School of Life video above, “an opti­mism that cen­tered around sci­ence, love, tech­ni­cal progress, and a faith in rea­son.” These beliefs were fol­ly, Voltaire thought: the trans­fer of faith from a prov­i­den­tial God to a per­fect, clock­work uni­verse. Can­dide sat­i­rizes this hap­py ratio­nal­ism in Doc­tor Pan­gloss, whose belief that ours is the best of pos­si­ble worlds comes direct­ly from the philo­soph­i­cal opti­mism of Got­tfried Leib­niz.

The pre­pon­der­ance of the evi­dence, Voltaire made abun­dant­ly clear in the novel’s series of increas­ing­ly hor­rif­ic episodes, points toward a blind, indif­fer­ent uni­verse full of need­less cru­el­ty and chaos. “Hope was, he felt, a dis­ease,” de Bot­ton says, and “it was Voltaire’s gen­er­ous goal to try and cure us of it.” But as every­one who has read Can­dide (or read a sum­ma­ry or brief notes on Can­dide) knows, the nov­el does not end with despair, but on a “Sto­ic note.”

After endur­ing immense suf­fer­ing on their many trav­els, Can­dide and his com­pan­ions set­tle in Turkey, where they meet an old man sit­ting qui­et­ly under a tree. He tells them about his phi­los­o­phy, how he abstains from pol­i­tics and sim­ply cul­ti­vates the fruits of his gar­den for mar­ket as his sole con­cern. Invit­ed to feast with the man and his fam­i­ly, they remark upon the lux­u­ri­ous ease in which they live and learn that they do so on a fair­ly small plot of land.

Voltaire loved to goose his large­ly Chris­t­ian read­ers and delight­ed in putting the novel’s part­ing wis­dom, “arguably the most impor­tant adage in mod­ern phi­los­o­phy,” in the mouth of an Islam­ic char­ac­ter: Il faut cul­tiv­er notre jardin, “we must cul­ti­vate our gar­den.” What does this mean? De Bot­ton inter­prets the line in the lit­er­al spir­it with which the char­ac­ter known only as “the Turk” deliv­ers it: we should keep a “safe dis­tance between our­selves and the world.”

We should not, that is, become over­ly engaged in pol­i­tics, and should devote our­selves to tend­ing our own liveli­hood and wel­fare, not tak­ing more than we need. We should leave our neigh­bors alone and not both­er about what they do in their gar­dens. To be at peace in the world, Voltaire argued, we must accept the world as it is, not as we want it to be, and give up utopi­an ideas of soci­eties per­fect­ed by sci­ence and rea­son. In short, to “tie our per­son­al moods” to human affairs writ large is to invite end­less mis­ery.

The phi­los­o­phy of Can­dide is not pes­simistic or nihilis­tic. A hap­py, ful­filled human life is entire­ly pos­si­ble, Voltaire sug­gests, if not human hap­pi­ness in gen­er­al. Can­dide has much in com­mon with the ancient Roman out­look. But it might also express what could be seen as an ear­ly attempt at a sec­u­lar Bud­dhist point of view. Voltaire was famil­iar with Bud­dhism, though it did not go by that name. Bud­dhists were lumped in, Don­ald S. Lopez, pro­fes­sor of Bud­dhist and Tibetan Stud­ies at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan, writes at the Pub­lic Domain Review, with the mass of “idol­aters” who were not Chris­t­ian, Jew­ish, or Mus­lim.

Yet the many Jesuit accounts of East­ern reli­gion reach­ing Europe at the time cir­cu­lat­ed wide­ly among intel­lec­tu­als, includ­ing Voltaire, who wrote approv­ing­ly, though crit­i­cal­ly, of Bud­dhist tenets in his 1764 Dic­tio­n­naire philosophique. As the sec­u­lar mind­ful­ness move­ment has done in the 21st cen­tu­ry, Lopez argues, Voltaire sought in the age of Enlight­en­ment to sep­a­rate mirac­u­lous leg­end from prac­ti­cal teach­ing. But like the Bud­dha, whose sup­posed biog­ra­phy Voltaire knew well, Can­dide begins his life in a cas­tle. And the sto­ry ends with a man sit­ting qui­et­ly under a tree, more or less advis­ing Can­dide to do what Voltaire had heard of in the “reli­gion of the Siamese…. Med­i­tate in pri­vate, and reflect often on the fragili­ty of human affairs.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Voltaire: Enlight­en­ment Philoso­pher of Plu­ral­ism & Tol­er­ance

Voltaire: “Those Who Can Make You Believe Absur­di­ties, Can Make You Com­mit Atroc­i­ties”

Philoso­phers Drink­ing Cof­fee: The Exces­sive Habits of Kant, Voltaire & Kierkegaard

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

An Animated Introduction to Albert Camus’ Existentialism, a Philosophy Making a Comeback in Our Dysfunctional Times

When next you meet an exis­ten­tial­ist, ask him what kind of exis­ten­tial­ist s/he is. There are at least as many vari­eties of exis­ten­tial­ism as there have been high-pro­file thinkers pro­pound­ing it. Sev­er­al major strains ran through post­war France alone, most famous­ly those cham­pi­oned by Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beau­voir, and Albert Camus — who explic­it­ly reject­ed exis­ten­tial­ism, in part due to a philo­soph­i­cal split with Sartre, but who nev­er­the­less gets cat­e­go­rized among the exis­ten­tial­ists today. We could, per­haps, more accu­rate­ly describe Camus as an absur­dist, a thinker who starts with the inher­ent mean­ing­less and futil­i­ty of life and pro­ceeds, not nec­es­sar­i­ly in an obvi­ous direc­tion, from there.

The ani­mat­ed TED-Ed les­son above sheds light on the his­tor­i­cal events and per­son­al expe­ri­ences that brought Camus to this world­view. Begin­ning in the trou­bled colo­nial Alge­ria of the ear­ly 20th-cen­tu­ry in which he was born and raised, edu­ca­tor Nina Med­vin­skaya goes on to tell of his peri­ods as a resis­tance jour­nal­ist in France and as a nov­el­ist, in which capac­i­ty he would write such endur­ing works as The Stranger and The Plague. Med­vin­skaya illu­mi­nates Camus’ cen­tral insight with a well-known image from his ear­li­er essay “The Myth of Sisy­phus,” on the Greek king con­demned by the gods to roll a boul­der up a hill for all eter­ni­ty.

“Camus argues that all of human­i­ty is in the same posi­tion,” says Med­vin­skaya, “and only when we accept the mean­ing­less­ness of our lives can we face the absurd with our heads held high.” But â€śCamus’ con­tem­po­raries weren’t so accept­ing of futil­i­ty.” (Here the Quentin Blake-style illus­tra­tions por­tray a cou­ple of fig­ures bear­ing a strong resem­blance to Sartre and de Beau­voir.) Many exis­ten­tial­ists “advo­cat­ed for vio­lent rev­o­lu­tion to upend sys­tems they believed were depriv­ing peo­ple of agency and pur­pose.” Such calls haven’t gone silent in 2020, just as The Plague â€” one of Camus’ writ­ings in response to rev­o­lu­tion­ary exis­ten­tial­ism — has only gained rel­e­vance in a time of glob­al pan­dem­ic.

Last month the Boston Review’s Car­men Lea Dege con­sid­ered the recent come­back of the thought, exem­pli­fied in dif­fer­ent ways by Camus, Sartre, and oth­ers, that “reject­ed reli­gious and polit­i­cal dog­ma, expressed scorn for aca­d­e­m­ic abstrac­tion, and focused on the fini­tude and absur­di­ty of human exis­tence.” This resur­gence of inter­est “is not entire­ly sur­pris­ing. The body of work we now think of as exis­ten­tial­ist emerged dur­ing the first half of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry in con­flict-rid­den Ger­many and France, where uncer­tain­ty per­me­at­ed every dimen­sion of soci­ety.” As much as our soci­eties have changed since then, uncer­tain­ty has a way of return­ing.

Today “we define our­selves and oth­ers on the basis of class, reli­gion, race, and nation­al­i­ty, or even child­hood influ­ences and sub­con­scious dri­ves, to gain con­trol over the con­tin­gen­cies of the world and insert our­selves in the myr­i­ad ways peo­ple have failed and suc­ceed­ed in human his­to­ry.” But the exis­ten­tial­ists argued that “this con­trol is illu­so­ry and decep­tive,” an “allur­ing dis­trac­tion from our own fragili­ty” that ulti­mate­ly “cor­rodes our abil­i­ty to live well.” For the exis­ten­tial­ists, pur­suit of good life first demands an accep­tance of not just fragili­ty but futil­i­ty, mean­ing­less­ness, absur­di­ty, and ambi­gu­i­ty, among oth­er con­di­tions that strike us as deeply unac­cept­able. As Camus put it, we must imag­ine Sisy­phus hap­py. But can we?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

The Absurd Phi­los­o­phy of Albert Camus Pre­sent­ed in a Short Ani­mat­ed Film by Alain De Bot­ton

Why You Should Read The Plague, the Albert Camus Nov­el the Coro­n­avirus Has Made a Best­seller Again

Albert Camus: The Mad­ness of Sin­cer­i­ty — 1997 Doc­u­men­tary Revis­its the Philosopher’s Life & Work

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to the Exis­ten­tial­ist Phi­los­o­phy of Jean-Paul Sartre… and How It Can Open Our Eyes to Life’s Pos­si­bil­i­ties

The Mean­ing of Life Accord­ing to Simone de Beau­voir

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

An Introduction to Postmodernist Thinkers & Themes: Watch Primers on Foucault, Nietzsche, Derrida, Deleuze & More

For decades we’ve been hear­ing about the prob­lem of Post­mod­ernism. I sup­pose I get, in a vague sort of way, what peo­ple mean by this: moral rel­a­tivism, mis­trust of objec­tiv­i­ty and sci­en­tif­ic, reli­gious, and oth­er author­i­ties, “increduli­ty toward meta­nar­ra­tives,” as Jean-Fran­cois Lyotard defined the term in The Post­mod­ern Con­di­tion in 1979.

Don’t we find much of this rad­i­cal skep­ti­cism in the work of David Hume? The Cyn­ics? Or Niet­zsche (a Post­mod­ern ances­tor, but also claimed by Prag­ma­tist and Exis­ten­tial­ist thinkers)? A prob­lem with blan­ket cri­tiques of Post­mod­ernism is that the word has nev­er rep­re­sent­ed a cohe­sive school of thought (nor, for that mat­ter, has Exis­ten­tial­ism).

The term derives from an archi­tec­tur­al move­ment of the 1960s that is, itself, impos­si­ble to clear­ly define since it inten­tion­al­ly grafts togeth­er approach­es and tra­di­tions in exper­i­ments that cel­e­brate kitschy excess­es of style and that defy nar­ra­tive coher­ence. Post­mod­ern archi­tec­ture gave us mod­ern malls and mul­ti­plex­es, aid­ing and abet­ting late cap­i­tal­ist sprawl. (But this is anoth­er sto­ry….)

Lyotard cer­tain­ly fit the stereo­type of the Post­mod­ernist philoso­pher, with his life­time of social­ist activism and the­o­ret­i­cal hybrids of Marx and Freud. He gets lit­tle cred­it, though he put the term in cir­cu­la­tion in phi­los­o­phy. Instead, Michel Fou­cault is often cit­ed as a sig­nif­i­cant influ­ence, though he reject­ed the cat­e­go­riza­tion and thought of him­self as a mod­ernist.

Many a sur­vey of Post­mod­ern thought, such as this YouTube video series by Then & Now, begins with Fou­cault. The series cov­ers oth­er thinkers we don’t always see put in this box, like soci­ol­o­gist Pierre Bour­dieu and 19th cen­tu­ry Russ­ian nov­el­ist Fyo­dor Dos­to­evsky. Niet­zsche appears, of course, in two parts, as well as Eve Sedg­wick, Jacques Der­ri­da and Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guat­tari.

But in many ways, Fou­cault may be the best place to begin. As pro­fes­sor of phi­los­o­phy Scott Moore writes:

If post­mod­ernism is under­stood as a rejec­tion of… an Enlight­en­ment point of view… one that is char­ac­ter­ized by a detached, autonomous, objec­tive ratio­nal­i­ty… then Fou­cault is sure­ly a post­mod­ernist. Turn­ing Bacon on his head, Fou­cault affirmed that it is not the case that knowl­edge is pow­er, but pow­er is knowl­edge. Mean­ing, those peo­ple who have pow­er (social, polit­i­cal, etc.) always decide what will or will not be count­ed as “knowl­edge.”

Unlike, how­ev­er, many lat­er cul­tur­al the­o­rists who inher­it­ed the cum­ber­some label, Fou­cault looked not to the present or the future in his work, but to the past, re-inter­pret­ing pri­ma­ry sources from ancient Rome to the post-WWI glob­al eco­nom­ic order, through sev­er­al dif­fer­ent dis­ci­pli­nary lens­es.

Then & Now cre­ator Lewis Waller takes a post­mod­ern approach to this series him­self. In the video “Detach­ment, Objec­tiv­i­ty, Imag­i­na­tion: A Cri­tique,” he makes a case that Roman­tic his­to­ri­ans like Michelet, Thier­ry, and Car­lyle had a “bet­ter under­stand­ing of the real­i­ty of the historian’s craft than the sci­en­tif­i­cal­ly mind­ed did.” It’s a con­trar­i­an argu­ment that begins with Sir Wal­ter Scott and that may unset­tle your pre­con­cep­tions of what the catch-all term Post­mod­ernism might include.

See more videos from the series above and watch all of them on YouTube. You may or may not feel like you have a bet­ter sense of what Post­mod­ernism means in gen­er­al. If we take it as short­hand for the loss of unchal­lenged het­eropa­tri­ar­chal pow­er, then it is, I sup­pose, a prob­lem for many peo­ple. If we take it to mean a mode of thought that “prob­lema­tizes” seem­ing­ly sim­ple con­cepts we mis­take for the very struc­ture of real­i­ty, then it “is also an atti­tude,” writes Moore, “and it has been most art­ful­ly prac­ticed by Socrates, St. Augus­tine, Kierkegaard, Wittgen­stein, and a host of oth­ers.”

Maybe Post­mod­ernism has appeared in every peri­od of philo­soph­i­cal and lit­er­ary his­to­ry. Only it hasn’t always been so… well… so over­whelm­ing­ly French, which could have had more than a lit­tle to do with its neg­a­tive rep­u­ta­tion in Anglo­phone coun­tries. Put your meta­nar­ra­tives aside and learn more here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What the The­o­ry?: Watch Short Intro­duc­tions to Post­mod­ernism, Semi­otics, Phe­nom­e­nol­o­gy, Marx­ist Lit­er­ary Crit­i­cism and More

David Fos­ter Wal­lace on What’s Wrong with Post­mod­ernism: A Video Essay

Hear Hours of Lec­tures by Michel Fou­cault: Record­ed in Eng­lish & French Between 1961 and 1983

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Orson Welles Narrates Animations of Plato’s Cave and Kafka’s “Before the Law,” Two Parables of the Human Condition

You’re held cap­tive in an enclosed space, only able faint­ly to per­ceive the out­side world. Or you’re kept out­side, unable to cross the thresh­old of a space you feel a des­per­ate need to enter. If both of these sce­nar­ios sound like dreams, they must do so because they tap into the anx­i­eties and sus­pi­cions in the depths of our shared sub­con­scious. As such, they’ve also proven reli­able mate­r­i­al for sto­ry­tellers since at least the fourth cen­tu­ry B.C., when Pla­to came up with his alle­go­ry of the cave. You know that sto­ry near­ly as sure­ly as you know the ancient Greek philoso­pher’s name: a group of human beings live, and have always lived, deep in a cave. Chained up to face a wall, they have only ever seen the images of shad­ow pup­pets thrown by fire­light onto the wall before them.

To these iso­lat­ed beings, “the truth would be lit­er­al­ly noth­ing but the shad­ows of the images.” So Orson Welles tells it in this 1973 short film by ani­ma­tor Dick Oden. In his time­less­ly res­o­nant voice that com­ple­ments the pro­duc­tion’s haunt­ing­ly retro aes­thet­ic, Wells then speaks of what would hap­pen if a cave-dweller were to be unshack­led.

“He would be much too daz­zled to see dis­tinct­ly those things whose shad­ows he had seen before,” but as he approach­es real­i­ty, “he has a clear­er vision.” Still, “will he not be per­plexed? Will he not think that the shad­ows which he for­mer­ly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?” And if brought out of the cave to expe­ri­ence real­i­ty in full, would he not pity his old cave­mates? â€śWould he not say, with Homer, bet­ter to be the poor ser­vant of a poor mas­ter and to endure any­thing rather than think as they do and live after their man­ner?”

Pla­to’s cave was­n’t the first para­ble of the human con­di­tion Welles nar­rat­ed. Just over a decade ear­li­er, he engaged pin­screen ani­ma­tor Alexan­dre Alex­eieff (he of Night on Bald Moun­tain and and “The Nose,” pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture) to illus­trate his read­ing of Franz Kafka’s sto­ry “Before the Law.” The law, in Kafka’s telling, is a build­ing, and before that build­ing stands a guard. “A man comes from the coun­try, beg­ging admit­tance to the law,” says Welles. “But the guard can­not admit him. May he hope to enter at a lat­er time? That is pos­si­ble, said the guard.” Yet some­how that time nev­er comes, and he spends the rest of his life await­ing admis­sion to the law. “Nobody else but you could ever have obtained admit­tance,” the guard admits to the man, not long before the man expires of old age. “This door was intend­ed only for you! And now, I’m going to close it.”

“Before the Law” describes a grim­ly absurd sit­u­a­tion, as does Welles’ The Tri­al, the film to which it serves as an intro­duc­tion. Adapt­ed from anoth­er work of Kafka’s, specif­i­cal­ly his best-known nov­el, it also con­cerns itself with the legal side of human affairs, at least on the sur­face. But when it becomes clear that the crime with which its bureau­crat pro­tag­o­nist Josef K. has been charged will nev­er be spec­i­fied, the sto­ry plunges into an alto­geth­er more trou­bling realm. We’ve all, at one time or anoth­er, felt to some degree like Joseph K., per­se­cut­ed by an ulti­mate­ly incom­pre­hen­si­ble sys­tem, legal, social, or oth­er­wise. And can we help but feel, espe­cial­ly in our high­ly medi­at­ed 21st cen­tu­ry, like Pla­to’s immo­bi­lized human, raised in dark­ness and made to build a world­view on illu­sions? As for how to escape the cave — or indeed to enter the law — it falls to each of us indi­vid­u­al­ly to fig­ure out.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear John Malkovich Read Plato’s “Alle­go­ry of the Cave,” Set to Music Mixed by Ric Ocasek, Yoko Ono & Sean Lennon, OMD & More

Plato’s Cave Alle­go­ry Ani­mat­ed Mon­ty Python-Style

Plato’s Cave Alle­go­ry Brought to Life with Clay­ma­tion

The Phi­los­o­phy of The Matrix: From Pla­to and Descartes, to East­ern Phi­los­o­phy

Franz Kafka’s Exis­ten­tial Para­ble “Before the Law” Gets Brought to Life in a Strik­ing, Mod­ern Ani­ma­tion

Kafka’s Night­mare Tale, “A Coun­try Doc­tor,” Told in Award-Win­ning Japan­ese Ani­ma­tion

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall, on Face­book, or on Insta­gram.

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