Do you see post-modernism as inherently relativistic, morally? I loved the postmodern art I was encountering, Angela Carter, the Simpsons, the musician Beck, but I started to feel queasy as I encountered the moral relativism - I still remember clearly a prof telling us that we had no right to judge the practice of female genital mutilation - and I see that moral relativism everywhere today. — Jeremy Murray
Hey Jeremy,
I hope you don’t mind me hijacking your questions for Count.
I think there is a narrow but unique contribution to be gained from post-modernism. I might say I see it as more of a method, than it is actual content. It’s like a metaphysical spell-checker.
Content, which itself is too static, is secondary, asserted only so that one can look sideways at content, while focused more on itself in the looking, at the same time content is asserted. All is therefore, ironic. Or all is story-telling with the post-modern.
There certainly is a time and place for the attitude and process that post-modernism typifies. It produces a unique type of skepticism towards institution, and an ability to disagree with others and to deconstruct the content others might supply. This can be the right course of action to take, given the dubious content errant human beings often supply; but postmodernism is itself a type of subversion, and so it can jeopardize a maturity towards true wisdom.
And artists are always the best at working the medium (creating the best content for irony’s sake), so if there is a lasting impact to post-modernist thought, I suspect it will be from the arts, and not from philosophy or the humanities. Really good pop music since the sixties is truly something that will always engage as much as it repels.
Relation and process are the most positive terms to make something out of postmodernist academia. But as a process of deconstruction and relation without relata to fix, this content remains blurred and formless, and accidental.
But really, post-modernism has no inherent content. Even existentialism had the human condition and history and a fading sense of pride as its focus, which is why Nietzsche and Dostoyevsky and Goethe and Camus and Satre are so much more compelling to read than Wittgenstein, Derrida, Foucault and anyone since, who tried to run with this spirit of meaningless meaning making. (They turn truth and metaphysics into nonsense, but for the sake of turning emotion and will into metaphysics and truth.)
But with all of that said, post-modernism is relativistic, particularly when it comes to morality and ethics (and by application, politics). Which is ironic, because even post-modernists resist being called a relativists, and as such, have come up with some of the most rigid, oppressive moral codes and dogmatic systems (DEI/political correctness, race/women/sexuality/gender dogma, climate change social virtue, anything conservative and capitalist and republican and religious is evil/facist, etc.). The post-modern is so relativist, they can be or value anything, including their own total self-contradiction, and with straight face be the right kind of absolute dogmatist when the mood suits them.
So yes, morally, the spirit of the post modern age is relativistic at base. We now can be experts at a million new specialties, and experiment constantly in our fields, and no one who isn’t a new expert can tell us we are wrong (and the experts are at their best when they disagree with each other), as long as what we are doing is over-throwing something that existed yesterday. Disruption for disruption sake is the virtue. We can ask questions of our intentions and biases later, or just move on and ignore the smoldering mess that is always some old, white, rich oppressors fault anyway. We can hide in scientism, shrug off that which is not falsifiable, and silence those who just won’t understand the post-modern. The adolescents have tied up their parents and taken over the high schools. You can literally see it on most college campuses for the past 50 years.
Next time I’ll tell you what I really think! But seriously, it’s not all bad if you look at postmodernism the way postmodernists look at everything else. As self-reflection, it is a type of humility. The existentialists should have had the last word; the postmodernists just kept talking anyway.
how important to you are your religious / spiritual beliefs in terms of the philosophy you are drawn to?
I consider myself a fairly staunch atheist. — Jeremy Murray
You are an interesting and honest poster. I think I’ve told you I believe in God and practice Catholicism. I think your attitude towards the theist exemplifies my attitude toward the atheist; there is plenty of philosophy and science and practicality and wisdom to share in addition to or just without mentioning God or religion.
Religion and God are important to me, and it is the nature of religion that it is something that can make itself immediately present in any discussion. It can be all-pervasive. But just as immediately as it can be brought out, it can be kept separate and left for the believers and theologians to discuss in their free time.
To really answer your question, I see it like this.
If I talk about my children, I can discuss their biology, or reduce that to chemistry and physics, or go from biology to something more specifically human and universal like anthropology or human psychology/self-reflective consciousness…But would any of that really ever account for what I could say if I as their father was telling you about my kids that I love? Does the interesting information about brain states really say the same thing as me telling a story showing why I love my kids? Can we learn more about love from me showing you, or from a neuro-scientist? I mean, even if in the end, love is just a feeling (which I actually think is reductive absurdity), isn’t a story told in love always more interesting and more revealing than whatever the brain state/behavior facts/functionalist emergence story could possibly be?
So to me, talking about God like a philosopher talks is like talking about my own kids like a biologist talks. I can do it, but there is so much more interesting biology than my kids can demonstrate, and there is so much more interesting theology than the God of philosophy can demonstrate.
But all of that said, it is hard, at least for me, to find a common morality without God.
We need some sort of ideal or target to strive towards - some fixed notion of good or essential virtue - to really sink our teeth into morality. It may not have to be a God or a religion, but something necessarily good needs to be discovered to even begin constructing a morality. We both (or all) need to bite some apple to discover we know something of good and bad in themselves.
Maybe we make it up first (I doubt we will ever finish making it up ourselves), but if good and bad is not fixed between us, sitting there as if growing on a tree, morality never gets off the ground and/or it gets devoured by relativism.
Religious institution and the word of God himself make it easier for many to accept that there is a true good we either seek or fail to have. God grounds moral authority and gives a confidence in righteousness and punishment/correction.
But things like “we hold these truths to be self-evident” and “act as if whatever you do it could be made into a universal law that all will do” and “treat no person as a means”, which are all secular, could easily be from a religion (and basically are). The point being, these tenets aren’t true or good just because I am wonderful enough to understand them and agree with them - they are things we all can learn to one day take for granted, like adults who accept their duty willingly. And more importantly for this thread, in my humble experience, without something fixed and permanent like these, morality is a meaningless game.
When the moral goal post of can be moved, there may as well be no goal post.
Unfortunately, it’s no fun breaking the rules when there really aren’t any rules. So we keep reinventing the boogeyman and a corresponding brave overcoming.
Having had more than my share of bad luck, the problem of evil (and why me?) is too large an obstacle, despite how appealing I find the idea of belief. I think this best explains my interest in virtue ethics. But we both seem drawn to similar ideas?
Regardless, I like theology. — Jeremy Murray
There are saints who had no idea where to really find God, or what or who God really is. Mother Teresa wrote privately about her long- lived feeling of utter loneliness and abandonment when she sought God.
With your obvious interest in the truth and what is good, you may be a saint as much as anyone, and if you don’t watch out God may show up yet.
At least that is my hope for all of us!