I'll try and explain what I meant by subjectivism. It's not as if it's a doctrine or school of thought; only that, for deep questions of value and meaning, as these are not necessarily adjudicable by science, then whatever is held about them, is said to be a personal matter, or a matter for individual judgement.
— Wayfarer
Let's make it a little clearer. Deep questions of value and meaning are matters for individual judgment; how could they be otherwise? You can't look them up in a textbook. What you mean, I think, is that subjectivism believes that human judgment has no further court of appeal, where it might receive an answer as to whether the judgment is correct or not. In that sense, these judgments are either based on subjective considerations that don't necessarily hold from one person to the next, or they are unfounded by a first principle of rationality. — J
I thoroughly agree with everything you say here (until the last paragraph). To go from "each individual must make their own judgments, illuminated by reason and conscience as best they can" to "all individual judgments are equally perspicuous and moral" is the mistake, and a big one. — J
I think the need to provide public justification for private beliefs is still very strong, at least in the U.S. (though it may be fading fast), and that's a good thing. — J
We're justifying racist policies. — AmadeusD
It depends what your definition of hate speech is, and this is always the problem. I am 100% against any kind of hate speech legislation because (even taking the underlying loadedness of your question as legitimate) no one has that authority. We cannot rely on 'perceived hate' because that's utter bollocks, and so we need an objective measure. — AmadeusD
I don't see relying on philosophy for that, though again you may disagree, and think more benevolently of it. — J
Hate speech is readily recognizable. — Janus
Your (one's; not your particularly) views are not everyone's. No, 'hate' is not as obvious as you seem to want it to be. If only...no one has that authority — AmadeusD
Are you saying that such should be allowed on public forums? — Janus
What you are not allowing for is that there are impressionable people who may be influenced by such hateful propositions. — Janus
So do people who think misgendering is hate speech and needs to be a criminal offense. — AmadeusD
We don't agree on utterances about animals entirely - those sorts of things are often said as sarcasm etc... — AmadeusD
I don't think i've said anything that would insinuate this. I didn't mention any type of utterance, for instance. I'd think the answer is 'it depends on the context'. — AmadeusD
I am. But I'm anti nanny-state type legislation. I think those with this view should stop thinking the lowest common denominator is the best way to inform ourselves. — AmadeusD
I don't believe it qualifies as such. It doesn't follow that there are no clear cases of hate speech. — Janus
That's a weak response! — Janus
you think that someone who posted on public forums that th3ewy think it is good to torture animals for fun would be just "being sarcastic'. — Janus
I asked you a question which apparently you don't want to answer. — Janus
Literally asking someone to harm andanimal should be. Joking about what kind of a person would say "x" or "y" shouldn't be. And its hard to tell, sometimes. — AmadeusD
AAn additional note is that forums are free to police their own content. The Law doesn't need to be involved.Just ftr, I agree, those types of statements, generally, should have at least some kind of consequence attached. That might be social, though. I'm unsure how I feel. — AmadeusD
Why would you not want to prevent such a thing? — Janus
You seem to be mounting a "slippery slope" argument. — Janus
More than this: I am telling you that is what's already happening, in practice, when we talk about Hate Speech publicly. It is a slippery slope. Yes, there are clear cases. — AmadeusD
I might agree that the criteria that determine what counts as hate speech has been unreasonably extended in some arenas of the social sphere. — Janus
Do you disagree with that? You haven't actually answered my questions about whether you would allow the examples I gave and the like. — Janus
IN any case I also directly answered you in detail** :
Literally asking someone to harm and animal should be. Joking about what kind of a person would say "x" or "y" shouldn't be. And its hard to tell, sometimes.
— AmadeusD
Just ftr, I agree, those types of statements, generally, should have at least some kind of consequence attached. That might be social, though. I'm unsure how I feel.
— AmadeusD
AAn additional note is that forums are free to police their own content. The Law doesn't need to be involved.
Are you perhaps skimming these replies? — AmadeusD
conclude that no hate speech should be banned — Janus
Saying "Trans women are not women" doesn't fall into this category. — AmadeusD
I don’t know enough about yours politics to situate your critique of liberalism on a left-right spectrum. Maybe you can help. Did you think that Pope Francis was too liberal? What are your thoughts on the ideas coming out of the Claremont Institute? Are they generally to the right of your position on most issues, or do you find yourself in agreement with them on most things?Blaming immigration for the dissolution of labor unions is a common meme on the right, and especially by the Trumpists. I’m more persuaded by arguments like this:
What is this supposed to be, some sort of guilt by association argument? — Count Timothy von Icarus
grossly impolite. — Janus
if someone who is biologically male identifies as a woman and wishes to be treated as such, I think to do so is the decent thing to. What would you lose by that? — Janus
The first thing to note is the title of the book itself—The Politics Of The Real—indicates that Schindler thinks Liberalism’s chief defect is it encourages an order of putative “peace” at the expense of the truth of things as they really are. The Liberal order seeks to keep the peace via a very minimal account of what constitutes “the good” precisely in order to avoid the often socially divisive arguments that inevitably accrue to any strong account of the good. Better to bracket concepts like “the good” in order to avoid such conflicts while opening a civil space for free individuals to “privately” hold whatever account of the good they deem appropriate. So long, that is, as they do not seek to impose their idiosyncratic notions on others.
However, as Schindler notes, this is to subvert the very goodness of the good per se and only grants “equality” to all such notions by first trivializing them as equally irrelevant to the social project. In other words, Liberalism, in seeking the “good” of social amity, subverts the very thing it seeks to preserve by robbing the very concept of all goods of its reality as something holding a moral purchase in the public domain. Goods are only goods if they are viewed as true and real things, embedded in the very fabric of things; they exist antecedent to any of our private opinions and choices and therefore impose upon us the limits necessary for true freedom in the first place.
In a rich insight, Schindler builds upon this critique and points out that this rejection of the realness of goods leads to a situation wherein there are no natural limits to State power. This rejections means there are no moral and spiritual realities transcending the State and both limiting its power and forming its structure.
For example, the Liberal order claims for itself the right to self-limitation in matters of the good, which shows that it views no other limits on its powers than those it itself imposes. But that self-limitation creates a situation where the lines of limitation can move, willy-nilly, at the whim of the State since it recognizes no moral or spiritual sovereignty independent of its own sovereignty. It claims for itself a monopoly on such policing powers even as it masks the latent totalitarianism in such a regime through “granting” the “right” of private citizens to pursue the good on their own.
Other serious problems
Truth is a casualty as well since, as Schindler points out at the beginning of his text, in order for there to be a “res publica” in the first place the Liberal State must ignore the meddlesome and annoying question of “what is this thing in its essence” as the chief determiner of what constitutes the good. It resorts instead to the marginalization of all such metaphysical and delimiting questions into the realm of the purely subjective. Obviously, the State cares about “truth” in the practical domain of commerce and in the legal realm as it pursues justice as fairness. But it undermines these same realities by failing to embed them in a proper theory of the good which alone can hold them together and which alone can keep them from degenerating into a kind of technocratic proceduralism.
Nor does Liberalism have any inner principle for recovering such a theory of the good since it has been, since its inception, a movement characterized by a scorched-earth rejection of all previous moral and spiritual traditions. That includes the tradition and teaching embodied by the Church, which alone is capable of bearing forward the givenness of the good. Borrowing from thinkers such as Augusto del Noce and Pierre Manent, Schindler views the Liberal project as anti-Christian in its core.
And it is most especially anti-Catholic, insofar as it rejects the particular form of Catholicism as the very public embodiment of the coming together of Greek wisdom, Roman law, and Jewish theology—a synthesis that formed the moral and spiritual tradition of the West. And it does so because this “form” claims public warrant and is rooted in an ongoing development of a “private” Revelation that can have no such public warrant since it is not something accessible to the universal canons of secular reason.
Nor does it matter that many of the American founders spoke, theistically, of “nature’s God” as the source for all of our natural rights in the social contract. Because what they meant by “nature” was the Newtonian machine of closed and fixed laws and what they meant by God was the God so understood as the “divine architect” of this machine and whose “reality” only extended as far as universal reason can discern. Which really amounts to no God at all, especially as science marches forward and closes all of the gaps in our knowledge of nature’s autonomous operations. This is what happens to all “divine architect” formulations since God’s causative transcendence is viewed competitively with regard to nature’s causative immanence and leads to a flat-footed view of causation such that “if nature did this, then God didn’t” and vice versa.
All real religious traditions therefore are now trivialized and marginalized and relegated to the realm of private taste as “scientism”, and a vulgar pragmatic empiricism rushes in to take their place.
An anti-tradition tradition
Seen in this light, “religious freedom” in a Liberal order is no real freedom at all, but is in point of fact a kind of anti-freedom. The State, in “granting” freedom to religion, makes it clear that such freedom privileges only those forms of “religion” that make no strong claims about the public nature of the good, of God, of things spiritual. It privileges religion in the same manner as it privileges my choice of a Big Mac rather than a Whopper, which is to say it isn’t really privileging religion at all, but is instead merely privileging all such private tastes in matters that it views as trivial to the social contract. And in so redefining the social standing of religion it delegitimates Catholicism in its most essential aspects.
Thus is Liberalism an anti-tradition tradition, which is what makes it uniquely corrosive to the Christian evangel of the realness of God in time and space, as well to the Catholic belief that the Church is the very extension of the Incarnation into and within the flow of history. Therefore, there is no sense in which Catholicism can accommodate itself to such an ordo on a theoretical level and there is no sense in which Catholicism can make peace with such an ordo even on a practical level.
And this is why wherever the Church does try to accommodate itself to Liberalism, it dies.
This is also why, according to Schindler, Whig Thomism is such a flawed project. Murray’s thesis flies in the face of the demonstrable facts of the intellectual history of Liberalism and mistakes Liberalism’s smiling face toward a certain kind of religion as a gesture of “peace” devoid of deeper intent. The big lie of Liberalism is that it does not constitute a confessional creed of any kind—and Murray and his followers buy into that lie. And it is a lie because all States are necessarily confessional, which is to say, all States are ultimately theological.
Furthermore, the illiberalism we see erupting today, far from being an “aberration”, is the full-flowering of the procedural emptiness and metaphysical vacuity at the core of Liberalism which is only now coming into full view. It often takes time for the inner logic of an idea to unfold, especially when it is competing with other ideas that provide a counterweight. And in the American instance that counterweight was the cultural hegemony of a pan-Protestant theology whose ecclesiology was so “low” that for a time America itself was its “church.” And this could happen because such a low ecclesiology, with its quasi-gnostic denominationalism, allowed for a hyper-individualistic and largely “interior” vision of what it meant to be “saved.”
But that cultural hegemony has long been in our rearview mirror and so now we can see for the first time what America looks like when it is stripped of the last vestiges of even such an attenuated “traditioning”—a stripping that was inevitable due to the corrosive nature of Liberalism in the first place. What we are seeing now is what Liberalism looks like when its full nihilism takes over...
The first thing to note is the title of the book itself—The Politics Of The Real—indicates that Schindler thinks Liberalism’s chief defect is it encourages an order of putative “peace” at the expense of the truth of things as they really are. The Liberal order seeks to keep the peace via a very minimal account of what constitutes “the good” precisely in order to avoid the often socially divisive arguments that inevitably accrue to any strong account of the good. Better to bracket concepts like “the good” in order to avoid such conflicts while opening a civil space for free individuals to “privately” hold whatever account of the good they deem appropriate. So long, that is, as they do not seek to impose their idiosyncratic notions on others.
Carl Schmitt (who died in 1985) developed his most influential ideas during the turbulence and ineffectual governance of Germany’s Weimar Republic. In his view, liberalism has a fatal weakness. Its aversion to violent conflict drives it to smother intense debate with ostensibly neutral procedures that conceal the truth about the nature of politics. That truth is revealed in emergency situations: Politics often requires making existential decisions about the good of the nation — and especially about who should be considered its friend and who its enemy. Liberalism’s supposed incapacity to make such primordial distinctions led Schmitt to the view that there exists “absolutely no liberal politics, only a liberal critique of politics.”
For Schmitt, someone must serve in the role of sovereign decider. Legislatures aren’t fit for it, because they easily devolve into squabbling factions. Neither are administrative bureaucracies, because they often defer to established rules and debate without resolution. Both contributed to making the later years of Weimar what Schmitt described, in a lecture from 1929, as an “age of neutralizations and depoliticizations.”
Few on the American right today explicitly credit Schmitt for shaping their views of presidential power. That isn’t true of Leo Strauss (who died in 1973), the German-Jewish émigré from Weimar who has influenced several generations of conservative academics and intellectuals in the United States. In his most influential book, “Natural Right and History,” Strauss subtly tames Schmitt’s views of politics, without mentioning him by name, and presents them as the pinnacle of political wisdom.
Strauss sets out a timeless moral standard of what is “intrinsically good or right” in normal situations as the just allocation of benefits and burdens in a society. But there are also “extreme situations” — those in which “the very existence or independence of a society is at stake.” In such situations, the normally valid rules of “natural right” are revealed to be changeable, permitting officeholders to do whatever is required to defend citizens against “possibly an absolutely unscrupulous and savage enemy.”
The Claremont Institute extended this intellectual line in America. Founded in 1979 in California by four students of Harry Jaffa, who studied with Strauss in the 1940s, the institute has cultivated a distinctive account of American history. It begins with veneration for the country’s founding, which institutionalized timeless moral verities. It continues with reverence for Abraham Lincoln’s displays of statesmanship, both before and during the Civil War, which deepened and perfected the American polity by fulfilling the promise of its founding.
For the next half-century, the United States became the living embodiment of the “best regime” described in the texts of ancient political philosophers.Then came the fall: First Woodrow Wilson and the Progressive movement, and then the New Deal during the Great Depression, introduced the notion of a “living Constitution” that evolves to permit the creation of an administrative state staffed by experts. This form of administrative bureaucratic rule, often aided and abetted by the judicial branch, stifles statesmanship. That’s why Claremont-affiliated scholars have been at the forefront of attempts simultaneously to roll back the administrative state and to consolidate executive power in the office of the president.
Finally, Adrian Vermeule, of Harvard Law School, combines explicit Schmittian influence with a desire to revive and apply elements of medieval political theology to the contemporary understanding of the presidency.
Are there any strands of this thinking you are sympathetic to, and if so, which ones?
Conservatives have railed against the growth of the federal government that started in the Progressive Era, and especially the exponential expansion of what’s come to be called the administrative state — the numerous departments and regulatory agencies of the executive branch.
Mr. Vought has harshly criticized this progressive vision of the federal government’s role in American life, which has been driven by numerous developments in political culture. Congress passed laws that sometimes amounted to vague statements of intent, leaving judgment calls to the career civil servants who staff the regulatory bureaucracies. The courts adopted a deferential stance toward those bureaucracies, and presidents often opted not to exercise adequate guidance over the bureaucracies they nominally oversee and run.
For Mr. Vought and like-minded conservatives, the results of these developments place the country in a “post-constitutional moment” in which we’ve grown accustomed to being ruled by an unelected and unaccountable “fourth branch” of government.
This “fourth branch” stands above and apart from the separation of powers, imposing its own agenda and defending its own distinct interests, and it is this — “the woke and weaponized bureaucracy,” as Mr. Vought has called it — that he has promised to dismantle. As he wrote in his contribution to Project 2025, “nothing less than the survival of self-governance in America is at stake.” ...
In Mr. Vought’s view, along with other conservatives who embrace the theory of the “unitary executive,” the idea of extra-political independence is “not something that the Constitution understands.” The president heads the executive branch; these departments and agencies reside within it; that puts the president in charge of them, empowered by the voters who elected him. In short, he is their boss, and they must do as he wishes. The idea that they can operate independently of such oversight and accountability is incompatible with self-government.
The second area of reform Mr. Vought highlights involves the president reasserting the constitutional power to impound, or claw back, funds appropriated by Congress. Until 1974, presidents enjoyed broad (though not unlimited) impoundment powers based on the presumption that Congress sets a ceiling but not a floor for federal spending. But with the Congressional Budget and Impoundment Control Act of 1974, passed in response to Richard Nixon’s supposed abuse of the impoundment power, Congress acted to remove this power from the presidency. ...
The Claremont Institute is not against liberalism though. I think only left-leaning liberals would tend to see it thus. And that's only because they associate "real liberalism" with their particular brand of progressive liberalism. For instance, Claremont describes itself as a "champion of small government and free markets," the boilerplate pronouncement of right liberalism. Neocons aren't against liberalism; they have so much faith in liberalism that they have tended to embrace rather extreme economic coercion to spread it, or outright use of violence to "force others to be free."
They might be more skeptical about democracy, but then I think anti-democratic sentiment within liberalism is even stronger on the political left these days — Count Timothy von Icarus
"It is the final group, the “Thinkers,” that presents arguably Stewart’s most insightful sections. These are the figures like Eastman and his allies who posit themselves as the ideological, intellectual class crafting the contours of Trumpism—and identifying the kinds of legal cover Trump can use to dismantle American democracy. Much of this cohort can trace directly back to the Claremont Institute, the California-based organization where Eastman remains a senior fellow. As Stewart points out, it is the Claremont Institute where the “erstwhile reverence for America’s founders has been transfigured, with the help of political theorists purloined from Germany’s fascist period, into material support” for Trumpism.
The institute’s modus vivendi centers on the “Straussian man in action”—the man who bends history to his own ends, regardless of the consequence and regardless of democratic legitimacy. Stewart writes:
His mission is to save the republic. He must tell a few lies, yet he is nonetheless a noble liar, at least in his own mind. He acts in the political world, where natural right reigns, and not merely in the legal world where lawyers are supposed to toil. Aware of the crooked timber from which humanity is made, he is prepared to break off whatever branches are needed for the bonfire of liberty.
This core Claremont belief leads to the yearning for a so-called “Red Caesar”—a masculine leader untrammeled by anything like democratic oversight or political pushback, grabbing a society by the throat and forcing it back into a world in which men, and especially white men, are once more restored to the top of America’s sociopolitical hierarchy. Indeed, there is an almost obsessive approach at Claremont to restoring supposed masculinity within American society. Stewart traces this belief system at Claremont—where, she says, all of the board members “appear to be male”—to Harvey C. Mansfield Jr., who wrote a 2006 book called Manliness and “counts as nobility among Claremont’s extended family.” As Mansfield argued, “gender stereotypes are all true”—including, bizarrely, that women would make bad soldiers because “they fear spiders.”
As Stewart details, Mansfield was “far too sophisticated to openly argue for stripping American women of the rights they have fought for over the past two centuries—but in the private sphere, “those highly accurate stereotypes should reign triumphant.” This belief has seeped into Claremont’s bones and manifested itself at Claremont many times over. There is a Claremont Fellow named Jack Murphy who once said that “feminists need rape.” There was another Claremont official who gave a talk titled, “Does Feminism Undermine the Nation?” There is the promotion of work by an author named Coston Alamariu—better known by his nom de plume “Bronze Age Pervert”—who oozes undiluted misogyny and rails against “the gynocracy.” As Alamariu wrote, “It took 100 years of women in public life for them to almost totally destroy a civilization”—and the only way forward is to “use Trump as a model of success.”
These Claremont-based “Thinkers” also include figures like Curtis Yarvin, who has contributed to the Claremont publication American Mind and “appeared as an honored guest on Claremont podcasts.” Yarvin’s affections for despotism have been widely reported elsewhere, but it is his historical ignorance that highlights just how shallow the Claremont men’s pretensions at intellectualism truly are. Not only does Yarvin preposterously believe that “European civilization” wasn’t responsible for any genocides before the Holocaust—as if genocides in places like the Africa, North America, or even Ireland and Ukraine never existed—but he further maintains that America now needs to collapse into dictatorship in order to rebuild.
The “men of Claremont frame their not-so-hidden longing for revenge as a series of ruminations about the rise of an American Caesar,” Stewart writes. “And when that ‘Red Caesar’ arrives, he can thank the oligarchs for funding his rise, and he can thank the rank and file of the movement for supporting him in the name of ‘authenticity.’ But he would owe at least as large a debt of gratitude to the unhappy men of Claremont, those spurned would-be members of the intellectual elite … for explaining just who he is, and why he should go ahead and blow the whole place up.”
Taken together, Money, Lies, and God paints not only a devastating picture of the state of American democracy (as if one was needed) but one that also contributes texture and context to understanding the current American political moment. The book convincingly argues that, when it comes to figures like Eastman or Leo or any of the men affiliated with the Claremont Institute, calls for dialogue and civility are futile. “In earlier times this may have been sage advice,” Stewart writes. “Today it is a delusion. American democracy is failing because it is under direct attack, and the attack is not coming equally from both sides. The movement described in this book isn’t looking for a seat at the noisy table of American democracy; it wants to burn down the house.” American democracy isn’t simply dying. It is, as Stewart observes, being murdered."
The most obviously illiberal thing I know Vought has said is that the US should prioritize Christian migrants. But why is this illiberal? It's not obvious why selecting immigrants who share a faith with the dominant faith of the polity that is accepting migrants is "illiberal" or how exactly it is supposed to constrain the freedom of citizens to have more (or less) co-religionist migrants living amongst them. — Count Timothy von Icarus
It's worth considering why, in general, it is not considered damaging to "liberty" to select migrants based on their "economic qualifications " and ability to "grow the economy," but it is considered damaging to "liberty" to select them on the basis of their ability to assimilate to the dominant culture — Count Timothy von Icarus
Religion here exists as a carve out, a sui generis space of "private" "spiritual" "faith-based" (as opposed to "evidence-based") belief. Such a view obviously excludes a conception of spiritual goods as precisely those goods that do not diminish when shared. It makes them inherently private and atomized.
It strikes me as one of the paradigmatic features of liberalism. The solution to the problems generated by liberalism is always "more liberalism!" (just more conservative or more progressive). — Count Timothy von Icarus
The thing is though, if you pair back all the Manosphere-speak in the book, the decrying of "manginas" and terse formulations of the imperatives of evolutionary psychology in catch-phrases like "beta need and alpha seed" (it is truly atrocious), what you'll find is a view of humanity that isn't that far off mainstream liberal welfare economics, or the more "enlightened liberalism" of guys like Stephen Pinker or Sam Harris. It's basically those anthropologies boiled down to their essence and stripped of all social niceties or appeal to sentiment, and then presented in particularly low-brow form. — Count Timothy von Icarus
My father is a Zionist, and when I was 14 he moved the family to Israel with the expectation of settling there permanently. It didn’t work out for various reasons and we returned to the States, but what I learned in the year we spent there was that a democracy based on Jewish nationalism is not a robust democracy. Even if the intent is equal treatment for Jews and non-Jews alike, in practice the biases in favor of Jewish religion and culture translate into the institutionalization of unequal treatment. I’m an atheist , but I would never dream of prioritizing atheist migrants over religious ones, any more than I would prioritize white migrants over people of color simply because whites happen to be the dominant population of the U.S. We tried that for 40 years when strict immigration limits were set in the 1920’s to keep out Catholics and Jews from eastern and southern Europe, as well as Asians, under the pretext that they could not assimilate ‘American’ values.
Frankly, I think we tend to underestimate both the ability of migrants to assimilate to the dominant culture and their ability to contribute to its economy. We undervalue the tremendous motivation involved in choosing to leave one’s home country for a foreign land.
It’s easy to attack, but more difficult to lay yourself on the line by committing to a detailed alternative to liberal politics that others can then pick apart.
"Just offer a realistic alternative to a totalitarian and now globally hegemonic force." A tough ask! Unfortunately, I think humanity will have to weather the collapse of liberalism and it's attendant ecological disasters before any decisive break is possible. Maybe the God of progress will save us, but I doubt it… What likely comes after liberalism has been described variously as a sort of "techno-feudalism," a combination of technocratic rule and "consent-based" corporate (often patronage-centric) governance for those with the skills of connections to still be "economically viable" in the era of artificial intelligence… what happens when elites no longer want to exploit the people's labor but just see them as a problem/burden to be contained? — Count Timothy von Icarus
A polis based around a more robust conception of the common good would do many things differently. For instance, the purpose of education would be the development of virtue and happiness, not workforce preparation and enabling people to meet whatever desires they happen to develop. It would probably provide for civil defense through universal citizen military service instead of a standing professional (and increasingly mercenary) army/police force. — Count Timothy von Icarus
I have never bought into the apocalyptic narrative, the ‘things have gone terribly wrong and we need a whole new approach’ kind of thinking. — Joshs
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