Længe leve lederen!

Forleden fortalte en ledelseskonsulent mig, at jo mere erfaren en leder er, desto mere efterspørger han eller hun filosofi. Det kunne være fristende at sige, at lederne ønsker at tænke, men enhver ved, at ikke kun filosoffer tænker. 

Det, der derimod kendetegner filosoffen er, hans eller hendes danseegenskaber, idet at tænke er at træde til siden, vige pladsen for noget, som er større end en selv. 

Det, som lederen efterlyser, er ikke blot refleksion – det håber jeg i hvert fald ikke – men evnen til at give plads til erkendelsens – til tider – smertefulde tilblivelse. Det kunne være erkendelsen af, at den gren, som vi alle sammen så mageligt sidder på, har vi snart savet over. 

Grenen kunne vi for nemheds skyld kalde planeten. 

Status og greenwashing

Lige nu værner meget få mennesker om livet – inklusive ledere. De værner om deres ego, deres karriere, deres status – en status, som endda kan vokse, hvis du lader som om, at du bekymre dig om planeten. 

Denne bekymrende velvilje er desværre mere knyttet til lederens identitet, end vedkommendes reelle handlinger.

Lederen – som alle andre levende væsener – bevæger sig mellem væren og intet. Et mellemrum fuld af angst, idet lederen ikke kun kan risikere at miste sin prestige og magt, men tabe livet. 

Skal en leders filosofiske erkendelse udvikle sig til andet end en pirrende eftermiddag på et kursus, kræver det en accept af tabet: at noget er uerstatteligt. 

Enhver form for erkendelse – inklusive selverkendelsen – kan være grusom. Den blotter vores individuelle og kollektive begrænsninger og konfronterer os med vores egen hang til selvbedrag. 

Et sådan selvbedrag kunne lyde: tingene ordner sig nok. 

Troen på videnskaben

En anden form for selvbedrag kunne være, at videnskaben nok skal redde os. 

Videnskaben er nyttig, men den er ude af stand til at identificere meningen med livet. Erfare tabet. Filosofi er ikke noget ubrugeligt, men lige præcis det, der frigør mennesket fra frygt, usikkerhed og hjælpeløshed. Giver det kraft til at handle. 

At dagens erfarne ledere efterspørger filosofi, hænger sammen med, at filosofien alt for længe har været marginaliseret. Men denne marginalisering har ikke just gjort verden bedre. Tværtimod. Når filosofien er fraværende, trives dumheden. 

Meningen er i filosofien ikke noget givet, men noget som gradvist skabes, idet det enkelte menneske alene – og sammen med andre – kritisk undersøger og udforsker livets uanede muligheder, hvorved vedkommende løbende finder ud af, hvad der er vigtigt, og hvorfor det er det. 

Det kaldes visdom. 

En mere praktisk visdom er at værne om ens eget hjem: planeten. Ikke fordi vi skal, men ene og alene fordi vi elsker den, uden den vil ingen vide, hvad det vil sige at være levende, uden den ville ingen kunne tale om frihed, erfaret kærligheden eller spillet fodbold

Nietzsche, sagde engang, at »den, der ved, hvorfor han lever, kan tåle et hvilket som helst hvordan«.

Det er dette ’hvorfor’, som gør, at mange ledere efterspørger filosofi. De har glemt, hvorfor de gør, som de gør. Den dybere mening. Den såkaldte mening med livet. 

Ifølge den franske filosof Michel Serres, består det at erkende i »at antage en form, der er analog med den, vi erkender«. Det vil sige, at for at erkende livets mangfoldighed, må jeg blive et med livet. Jeg må smide alle mine ideer, normer og forventninger i skraldespanden og bogstaveligt talt blotte mig over for livets kræfter. Jeg må ofre min status og prestige, idet jeg viger pladsen for de livskræfter, der presser sig på – give dem plads. 

Jeg må erkende, at livet kun er til låns. Og, at alt levende er forbundet, hvorved mit velbefindende er forbundet med dit, og omvendt. 

I dag taler mange konstant om, hvad vi kunne gøre, og hvordan vi kunne gøre det, som om vi endnu ikke havde et klart ’hvorfor’ at leve for. 

Ingen udsættelse

Tabet af livet – af planeten – kan ikke udsættes med ord og strategiske planlægninger. Livets overlevelse kræver, at vi sætter livet før vores eget ego. 

Hvis vi lever for livets skyld. Ikke magt, penge, sex eller en lind strøm af likes, ved vi så ikke, hvad vi skal gøre, og hvordan vi skal gøre det? 

Filosofi er altså yderst nyttig. Den kan hjælpe dig og mig og alle de andre med at leve og endda overleve. Det er ikke en disciplin, hvor den enkelte skal tilegne sig en masse informationer og begreber, fordi de sælger på direktionsgangene, men en konkret og brutal modstandsøvelse mod alt, der forsøger at ødelægge friheden, kærligheden og den mellemmenneskelige værdighed. 

Ja, alt det der ødelægger det eneste sted, hvor mennesket nogensinde har følt sig hjemme og derfor lykkelig: Planeten. 

Alt for længe har vi i Vesten, i hvert fald, ignoreret døden, som om det var noget, der ikke vedkom os. 

Spørgsmålet er nu, om den endnu igangværende pandemi har fået os til at indse vores skrøbelighed. Erkende, at vi er endelige. Fortolkningen af døden bestemmer vores holdning til tilværelsen – til livet. 

Dette er en klassisk filosofisk erkendelse. 

Fortabte ledere

Filosoffen Ludwig Wittgenstein sagde, at et filosofisk problem svarer til at føle sig fortabt. Mange ledere efterspørger filosofien, fordi de er fortabte. De har tabt kampen om planeten, de kan mærke, at de i fremtiden bliver hjemløse. 

Selv om de nok mere frygter, at blive arbejdsløse og miste status! 

Febrilsk prøver de at opruste sig moralsk, selv om det de reelt burde er, at nedruste kapitalen. 

Grådighed, opportunisme, egoisme, narcisisme, stress og depressioner er i dag ikke individuelle diagnoser, men sociale patologier. Vi mennesker – alle sammen og ikke kun lederne, selv om de selvfølgelig er mere ansvarlige qua ledere – har fejlet. 

Moralen er nemlig denne: Hvis resultatet af vores handlinger er, at planeten snart dør, hvad fortæller det så om de valg og beslutninger, der ligger til grund for vores handlinger? Hvad fortæller det om de vaner, overbevisninger, værdier og antagelser, som har formet vores beslutninger? 

Det fortæller, at livet aldrig har været første prioritet. 

Vi har ledt os selv i fordærv. Lederen er død, længe leve lederen.

Artiklen blev først gang bragt i Klimamonitor

Unikt essay om filosofi og sport

Så er lektørudtalelsen kommet for Opmærksomhedens filosofi, der står blandt andet:

“Fremragende tankeprovokerende essay, som suverænt kobler sportens verden til filosofiens verden på en ny og forfriskende måde.”

“Helt unikt essay om filosofi og sport. Et filosofisk blik på fodbold finder du også her. Hvad vi tænker på når vi tænker på fodbold.”

“Guf for dig som er til livsfilosofiske bøger”

Du kan læse hele udtalelsen her.

Stakkels Jim

Stakkels Jim behøver ikke nogen omtale. Han er allerede blevet en begivenhed.

En legende simpelthen

Nu kan du købe historien om stakkel Jim til halvpris.

Jeg gentager: Du kan købe historien om stakkels Jim til halvpris!

HER

Giv Danmark VM

Danmarks herrefodboldlandshold har kvalificeret sig til VM i Qatar. Problemet er, at Qatar står for alt det, som ingen bryder sig: død, korruption og grådighed.

Skal Danmark så boykotte?

Det er indlysende, at den moralske anstændighed er stærkt dalende, hvis ikke ligefrem forsvundet i den øverste ledelse af fodbolden, FIFA.

Men denne kynisme gælder ikke i selve sporten. Fodboldspillet og spillerne er ofte mere velopdragne end resten af samfundet. Ja, der er eksempler på voldelige fans, racisme og sexisme, men ikke mere end i andre dele af samfundet. Med hensyn til sexisme synes denne form for diskrimination at være mere udbredt på ledelsesgangene i Danmark end på græsplænen.

Ergo er problemet de ledere, der kontrollerer spillet.

Jeg har selv været moderat tilhænger af boykot, men er i dag imod. Det skyldes ikke, at Danmarks fodboldspillere er gode og har en reel chance for at vinde. Jeg er ikke opportunist. Problemet er snarere, at spillerne betaler for noget, som ikke er deres fejl.

Det svarer til, at de studerende ikke kan komme til eksamen, fordi de skal straffes for deres skoledirektørs alkoholsmisbrug. I stedet for boykot kunne Danmark og to-tre andre nationer, som har kvalificeret sig, påtage sig afholdelsen af VM. Det ville være i Kasper Hjulmands ånd. Han siger, at fodbold og samfund hænger sammen. Hjulmands kerneværdier er: holdet, tillid, ‘kort vej mellem mennesker’ og ‘hellere lille og vågen’.

Holdet betyder, at vi – alle mennesker – er forbundne. Tillid, at vi bærer hinandens liv i vores hænder. Den korteste vej mellem mennesker er glæden ved spillet, da penge altid kommer på tværs. Og hvem ville ikke foretrække et lille og vågent VM spillet på små stadions uden dyre tv-rettigheder, men hvor spillet er i fokus.

Finn Janning, PhD. filosof og underviser i sportsetik og sportspsykologi. Indlægget blev bragt i Ekstra Bladet.

Opmærksomhedens filosofi

Den, der tænker klart, lever klart …

Med Opmærksomhedens filosofi – frihed, kærlighed og fodbold stiller Finn Janning spørgsmålet: Hvordan kan vi etablere en mere kærlig forbindelse med verden og hinanden? 

Janning viser med afsæt i fodbold og cykling hvorledes det enkelte menneske kan udforske eksistensens muligheder og gradvist blive klogere – på sig selv og de andre. Denne filosofiske visdom er eksistentielt klargørende, idet den, der tænker klart, lever klart. 

Hvordan klarheden optrænes, giver Janning flere bud på, men først og fremmest handler det om en empatisk og intuitiv indfølingsevne, der gør den enkelte i stand til at rumme dét, som sker. Netop her er fodbolden eksemplarisk, fordi det som sker med en spiller, også sker med tilskueren. 

I bogen præsenteres en poetisk filosofi. En særlig tilgang eller indstilling til verden, der er opmærksom, åben, problematiserende, beslutsom og frigørende. En tilgang, der sætter mennesket fri til at elske. 

Ud over sporten henter bogen inspiration hos blandt andre Ludwig Wittgenstein, Albert Camus, Simone Weil, Gilles Deleuze og Iris Murdoch. 

Bogen kan lånes på biblioteket, købes her eller købes – lidt endnu – direkte fra forfatteren.

Opmærksomhedens filosofi – frihed, kærlighed og fodbold

Send din adresse, beløbet er inkl. forsendelse.

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“And me?”

Simone de Beauvoir’s novella Inseparable is remarkable in several ways: It was written in 1954 but has remained hidden away among her surviving papers until now. It is an autobiographical text from a prominent writer and philosopher. It is both a beautiful and a sad story about a friendship. It shows how rigid cultural norms and ideals can turn a life into a prison. It indirectly illustrates how one might liberate oneself through authentic love, friendship, and critical thinking.

Inseparable revolves around the meeting between two young girls, Silvie and Andrée, who meet as classmates in a private school in Paris during the First World War. We meet Andrée through the enamored gaze of Silvie, the narrator, who devoutly senses the details of the beloved, as here, where Andrée has hidden in the back garden to play the violin: “Her beautiful black hair was separated by a touching white side parting which one wanted to follow respectfully and tenderly with the finger.” 

Later Silvie acknowledges, “Without Andrée my life is over,” and later, “I had a need to share all with her,” and still later, when Andrée tells about her first love with a boy called Bernard and claims that he was the only one who loved her as she was, Silvie says, “And me?”

Silvie is the smartest in her class; she is a free and critical thinker. For example, one day she is dazed by the obvious truth: “I didn’t believe in God.” Andrée is equally gifted—Silvie fears that she might be smarter—and appears through Silvie’s gaze and fascination to live in her own world. Andrée is more eccentric, unpredictable, and musical than Silvie but also deeply Catholic.

Silvie envies Andrée, especially her independence, until she learns that Andrée lives in a prison where her strict mother watches all the possible exits. Unlike her mother, Andrée believes in the idea of love-marriages. Her mother just wants to marry her daughters off without any concern for love. 

Some might wonder whether the novella is about the friendship or love between the two young girls, later teenagers and young women. Making a distinction between love and friendship may be problematic, since true friendship consists of love—that is, trust, honesty, and equality. For example, Andrée challenges Silvie when she says that wanting to understand everything is haughtiness.

As mentioned, Inseparable is an autobiographical novella, Beauvoir scholars might  debate how accurate Silvie is as an alter ego of Beauvoir—as well as Andrée, who was inspired by the author’s friend Zaza (Elizabeth Lacoin), who died in 1929, when she was only 21 years old. 

Although I look forward to following the debate, the novella can easily stand alone as a sensuous story about friendship, love, freedom, and loss. Still, it may be tempting to tentatively place or interpret the novella through some of Beauvoir’s philosophical concepts. 

In The Second Sex, Beauvoir writes that authentic love is “founded on mutual recognition of two liberties.” Authentic love is freely chosen or, to put it differently, without freedom, there is no love. Freedom is not only remaining loyal or true to your individuality (whatever that means); rather, freedom is becoming—that is, you are free to become whatever you choose, while you also make sure that the other is equally free. 

The relationship between Silvie and Andrée is authentic. In contrast, an inauthentic love is one in which one party is hindered in experiencing freedom. 

In Inseparable, it is primarily the strong Catholic upbringing and faith that guide Andrée’s family and hinder her free becoming. Her mother makes sure that she has so many tasks to do that Andrée intentionally cuts her foot with an ax just to get some free time. Inauthentic love is based on submission, control, and domination, whether by mothers and priests, as here; or gender, race, or religion in general, to name a few of the most dominant examples. 

The novella might also open up the possibility that Silvie is dominated or restricted by her own ideals. For example, she believes that a woman cannot be free, creative, and innovative if she becomes a mother. Unlike her friend, Silvie doesn’t find the small twins (or babies in general) charming or attractive. Motherhood is apparently a hindrance to free thinking. 

History has, luckily, shown that many women have become philosophers, writers, artists, and much more while being mothers. 

The moral simmering in the novel is that there might not be only one way of being a mother but rather several. Motherhood is a multiplicity. At least, I cannot help but wonder what Andrée, who is capable of cutting her own leg with an ax, would do in a less self-harming way if a potential husband would hinder her playing her violin and writing her stories. Ideally, of course, she wouldn’t have to, if the marriage was one of authentic love. Continuing this line of thought, then no one would have to harm themselves, if they were brought up in a world of love—that is, one of equality and freedom for all.

Furthermore, since we are dealing with a novella inspired by true events, then Andrée was set to marry Pascal, who in real life represented Merleau-Ponty. Could they have matched Beauvoir and Sartre as not only the two dominating existentialists but also another example of aspiring philosophical friendship? 

Returning to The Second Sex, then, one might also describe the relationship between Silvie and Andrée through Beauvoir’s use of the concepts “transcendence” and “immanence.” She writes: “Every subject posits itself as transcendence concretely, through projects; it accomplishes its freedom only by perpetual surpassing toward other freedoms; there is no justification for present existence than its expansion towards an indefinitely open future. Every time transcendence lapses into immanence, there is degradation of existence into ‘in-itself’” 

Transcendence is a person’s ability to transcend a given situation, which, in theory, is possible for all human beings but in practice is reserved mainly for men—at least during the time where the novella takes place in France. For instance, Silvie transcends the Catholic faith. In contrast, a woman is traditionally held in immanence, where she is tied by her biological destiny: becoming a mother. A way to transcend this “destiny” is to throw alternative projects into the future. Silvie appears skeptical about whether a woman, whether Andrée can transcend her “immanent” destiny, but Andrée believes that another life is possible: another form of motherhood. Could Andrée (or Zaza) have found independence within dependence?  

If you appreciate an intimate novella about friendship, freedom, and love, then read Inseparable. I truly enjoyed the book and recommend it warmly. 

Finn Janning, PhD, writer and philosopher. 

This review was first published in Metapsychology, Vol. 25, No. 37

Den virkelige verden?

Hvorfor har så få forfattere gjort internettet til en selvfølgelig del af deres fiktion, når den del fylder meget i den virkelige verden? spørger Lasse Winther Jensen i WA #26.

Passer det, at internettet ikke er en del af den virkelige verden? Er de erkendelser, tanker eller følelser, som et menneske gør sig på internettet, mindre virkelige end dem, som han eller hun gør sig på gaden? Er virkeligheden ikke mere kompleks end denne dualisme?

Den spanske forfatter Agustin Fernández Mallo anvender aktivt internettet i sine værker. I romanen La trilogía de la guerra (Krigens trilogi) fra 2018, deltager en navnløs hovedperson i en internetkonference på den galliske ø San Simon, hvor der under den spanske borgerkrig var en koncentrationslejr. Da hovedpersonen ser sig selv gengivet på en skærm, bliver han ikke fremmedgjort – som var internettet en sekundær virkelighed – men han får adgang til et andet blik, han ser mere. Internettet bliver på denne måde en intensivering af livet.

Et andet sted leger han med den argentinske forfatter Jorge Luis Borges’ idé om spejlet som en metafor for universet og om, hvorvidt denne metafor er realiseret ved hjælp af Google Earth. I romanen La trilogía de la guerra anvender hovedpersonen Google Earth, når han skal orientere sig, hvorved dette hjælpemiddel bliver lige så virkeligt, som beskrev hovedpersonen selv den gade, som han stod på i New York.

I essayet La mirada imposible (Det umulige blik) fra 2021 beskriver Fernández Mallo umuligheden af at se verden fra ét privilegeret sted. Forestillingen om en selvskabt identitet er en egoistisk hallucination, idet vores identitet gives af vores omgivelser. Der er ikke længere nogen alvidende enhed, der styrer og kontrollerer de millioner af data, der udgør og artikulerer, hvad hver enkelt af os er.

Det er fiktionens opgave at fornærme eller krænke dén virkelighed, som hæmmer og kontrollerer os, skriver Fernández Mallo. Hvilket vil sige: se internettet som en del af virkeligheden.

Først bragt i Weekendavisen fredag den 13. august, 2021.

Kærlig indoktrinering

Det er et faktum, at kvinder bliver slået, kvalt eller voldtaget efter at have afvist tilnærmelser fra mænd. Men selvom frygten for fysisk vold er reel, skriver Cecilie Cronwald i kommentaren »Selvforsvar« (Ideer, 23. juli), er det ikke den eneste grund til, at kvinder ikke siger fra over for visse mænd. Hun nævner flere psykologiske muligheder såsom at generobre kontrollen eller undgå skamfølelse.

Jeg er enig med hende, men mangler i denne debat et mere kritisk syn på manden. Mere præcist den type mand, som på trods af afvigelser og afslag tyer til vold. En del af disse mænd er uden tvivl mentalt syge – psykopater, der mangler empati og medfølelse. De er ekstreme narcissister, der kun evner at elske deres eget falske billede af sig selv.

Spørgsmålet er dog, om denne mandstype er uden for enhver form for erkendelsesmæssig rækkevidde? En del af dem er. Desværre. De tilhører den samme gruppe af mænd, der har ulideligt ondt af sig selv, føler, at de intet har at tabe, og som derfor har set sig vrede på resten af verden. Sådanne mænd undgår sjældent en fysisk konfrontation – med andre mænd og kvinder.

Der er dog også mænd, som hurtigt indser, at det voldelige og respektløse er forkert. Det skyldes sjældent Hobbes idé om »alles kamp mod alle«, hvor der sandsynligvis altid findes en, der er stærkere og mere brutal end en selv. Snarere hænger ændringen af ens adfærd sammen med en erkendelse. En erkendelse af, at volden ikke skaber andet end frygt og mistillid, hvilket altid gør relationer usikre. Spørgsmålet om, hvorvidt hun er sammen med mig på grund af frygt og ikke kærlighed, dukker unægtelig op. Desværre dulmer sådanne mænd tvivlen ved at skabe mere frygt, hvorved de reelt blot skaber en tykkere mur mellem deres eget usikre selv og de andre. Frygten – eksempelvis frygten for at blive afvist, afsløret som uinteressant – bliver til vrede, aggression og vold.

Selvom visse mænd sandsynligvis er uden for anden rækkevidde end den, som loven og fængselsvæsenet opstiller, er der forbedringsmuligheder til stede for nogle af disse mænd.

Det er en gammel filosofisk idé, at kun en ignorant person foretager dumme og uhensigtsmæssige handlinger. Moralen er følgende: Straks en person bliver opmærksom på det rigtige, vil vedkommende også handle i overensstemmelse hermed. Dette kan lyde optimistisk, men det er sådan, meget opdragelse finder sted – og med god grund.

Lad os nu videreføre denne idé til vores genstandsfelt: de voldelige mænd, der ikke respekterer et afslag. Hvis vi antager, at enkelte af de mænd, der slår, kvæler og voldtager kvinder, rent faktisk ønsker en kærlig relation, afslører deres handlinger, at de er for dumme til at indse, at kærlige relationer forudsætter tillid, respekt, omsorg.

De har ikke lært at elske. Enten fordi de ikke for alvor har erfaret kærlighed – lighed, mellemmenneskelig respekt, tillid, retfærdighed og omsorg i familien eller i skolen. Kærligheden, som Søren Kierkegaard sagde, er opbyggelig, fordi den er forpligtet på at elske alle mennesker som værende lige meget værd – hvilket ikke betyder, at alle elskes lige meget.

Med hensyn til, hvordan den enkelte familie opdrager sine børn, har samfundet og staten et mindre råderum. Men hvis små drenge (og piger) kommer i skole og viser en klar voldelig, misogyn eller racistisk adfærd og tankegang, bør deres tanker og adfærd rettes.

Det kan måske lyde ubehageligt, men alle former for opdragelse rummer en snert af indoktrinering. Det, som vi i Danmark bør sikre, er, at alle børn lærer at forstå, hvorfor lighed, respekt og tillid mellem alle – uanset køn, race eller seksualitet – er det rigtige. Som samfund må vi aspirere efter et kærligt og frit samfund. At opføre sig ordentlig bør altså ikke være til debat – og selvom vi kan og bør debattere, hvad der rigtigt og forkert, bør ingen være i tvivl om, at overgreb altid er uacceptabelt. Skulle der være tvivl om dette, så må der altså strammes op på undervisningen med hensyn til, hvordan et ordentligt menneske opfører sig.

Bragt i Weekendavisen. fredag den 13. august, 2021

Against revenge

“The world needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door,” says the character Rust Cohle in the American crime-series, True Detectives. I thought of this sentence when I read Agnes Callard’s opening essay in the book On Anger (Boston Review Forum, 2020), which ends with the words: “We can’t be good in a bad world.” 

The underlying premise of her argument is that the world is bad. And it’s because the world is bad—tattered, for example, by inequality, racism, sexism, greedy capitalism, abuse of power, hunger, fatigue, etc.—that there is moral value in anger. Social movements such as #Metoo and Black Lives Matter emphasize this point. 

Perhaps more controversially, Callard claims that “once you have reason to be angry, you have reason to be angry forever. This is the Argument for Grudges.” Resentment of this type is often seen as being impotent, as Nietzsche claimed, and yet Callard present us with “the Argument for Revenge” where she tries to make a person’s desire for revenge something rational: she says, “revenge is how we hold one another morally responsible.” 

But before I go any further, let me pause to present the writer: Callard is an Associate Professor of Philosophy at the University of Chicago; she is also a columnist for The Point Magazine and The New York Times

Returning to her essay On Anger: Callard develops her postulation further when she writes that doing wrong—through revenge—doesn’t make you a worse person than when you were being wronged. In other words: “the victims of injustice are not as innocent as we would like to believe.” 

Thus, if I am wronged and I get angry, it is my moral responsibility to act on that anger and to seek revenge. Callard doesn’t present us with what would be an appropriate form of revenge. One reason for this is that she doesn’t operate with a clear moral guideline as to what is right and wrong. Instead, she seems to base such normative judgments on the individual’s feelings. “Anger,” she writes, “feels exactly as you would expect, if it were true that my moral accountability was a matter of you seeing what’s good for you in terms of what’s bad for me.”

Unlike a moral philosopher such as Iris Murdoch, Callard doesn’t aim to overcome “the big fat ego” that Murdoch believed to be the problem in moral improvement. In contrast, Callard centers on the person’s feelings, despite the fact that most people have been seduced or manipulated to “feel” inappropriate things. It is quite possible that a person will become angry due to a mistake, a misunderstanding, or even due to pure ignorance. 

Callard’s essay is followed by nine responses. Some of these merely repeat her argument, although others demonstrate the extent to which a true philosophical discussion is a mixture of humility and courage: while I acknowledge that I may be wrong, I nevertheless have the courage to present my ideas despite the risk of being wrong and having to think it all through again. 

Among the more significant responses is that of Elizabeth Bruenig, who argues in favor of forgiveness, saying that “it may be a necessary ingredient for peace as we know it.” Bruenig goes on to stress that forgiveness is not “something one does for oneself, as pop psychologists and wellness coaches often [would have it].” Although it may bring healing, forgiving is also painful because you’re “being asked to sacrifice for some higher good: peace or egalitarian order.” This approach tries to overcome Callard’s more individual moral evaluation from a transcendent perspective. 

Continuing with this theme, Misha Cherry argues, with the support of James Baldwin, about the need “to examine the context that gave birth to them [the crimes].” Here, Cherry is redirecting our attention away from a focus on the person, the egocentric individual, which is so typical in US political debate. One only has to think how convenient it was to be angry at Donald Trump and to ignore the culture or context that brought a person with such ideas and values to power. It is because we tend to focus on egos that we often ignore the context. 

Rachel Achs challenges Callard’s argument that “anyone who is wronged does have some reason to retaliate.” On reading this, I found myself thinking about the mafia and drug cartels who have their own reasons for being angry—which problematizes the claim that all anger is morally reasonable. While paying tax might make some people in Denmark angry, taking revenge by not paying tax while still benefiting from the welfare system, would not only be an example of unreasonable anger but also of plain stupidity. 

Oded Naáman asks whether revenge is the best option for moral improvement. Instead of revenge, an angry person or society might strive to change people’s mindsets and practical norms through new laws (e.g. to secure consent before sexual interaction), or through a better educational system that brings equality, justice and freedom to all—regardless of gender (including nonbinary persons and trans-persons), race, ethnicity, or sexual preference. 

The small book ends with a comment to the responses from Callard where she writes: “we need help to become the people we want to be—we are not already, ‘best’.” While it’s obvious that we need others because they can help us understand who we are and who we might become, it’s less obvious whether revenge is helpful. For example, does the other help due to his or her altruistic interest or just well-camouflaged selfishness? Also, I am skeptical about whether all people really know whom they want to be, that is, if what they want is truly their own desire, or whether they are being subtly seduced by political narratives or social media. 

After reading Callard’s essay and the responses, I am still left with the question: Why the need for revenge? I can easily understand and sympathize with the anger, but not with the need for revenge. I think one possible answer is that revenge is fueled by our own anger towards something we can’t let go of. It’s easy to get stuck in the past instead of “just” learning from it and then trying to overcome it. There is a need to make sure that it will not repeat itself, and this may be achieved through social experiments, education, new norms and values, etc.  

Thus, while anger can be productive and morally beneficial, it is only so, I believe, when it doesn’t lead to never-ending bitterness, self-righteousness and revenge. For example, Callard claims that once you have reason to be angry, you have reason to be angry forever, but I do not find her argument and examples convincing, and I also believe she is wrong.

Overcoming problems doesn’t necessarily require revenge; it calls rather, for a more creative approach that starts to build foundations for a future where people can experience equality, justice, and peace, while freely experimenting with different ways of living. 

With Nietzsche, I see revenge as resignation or resentment, which contrasts with trying to create new values, for example, through critical and innovative thinking. Critical thinking is a constructive example of the value of anger: a critique is actually something joyous because it has the potential to make us a little bit wiser, provided it is based on facts and convincing argument rather than on feelings and opinions. 

In her final reply to all the responses, Callard writes that anger is not only in one’s own self-interest. For example, I can be angry when other people suffer. And yet, despite this claim, it appears to me that the revenge she speaks of is always personal. Even when she proposes that “Love is a kind of attachment,” as in loving people who embody justice or equality, I fear that this too can easily lead to an attachment to one’s personal feelings about what constitutes equality and justice. Vanity, egoism, and narcissism are close by. 

Another way to define love could be by relating it to freedom—that is by being unattached and open to the continual process of becoming someone else. Søren Kierkegaard once wrote in a letter that “freedom is the element of love.” A simplistic interpretation of this could be that it is only unfree people who seek revenge. This is because it is only free people who are ready to set their egos aside and go where the truth takes them. 

I have dealt mostly with Callard’s essay, but the real strength of this book comes not only from her essay but also from all the responses. On Anger is an example of how rich and beneficial it can be to participate in a philosophical discussion—even if you, like me, are sitting on a bench in a park. 

Finn Janning, PhD, a writer and a philosopher. 

First published in Metapsychology, Vol. 25, No. 32

The rites of play

“Play, not work, is the end of life. To participate in the rites of play is to dwell in the Kingdom of Ends. To participate in work, career, and the making of history is to labor the Kingdom of Means.” – Michael Novak, The Joy of Sports (1976)

Byung-Chul Han is a Korean-born professor of philosophy and cultural studies at the University of the Arts in Berlin as well as a popular contemporary social analyst. During the last two decades, he has published numerous book-length essays dissecting contemporary society. Han uses several catchy terms to define contemporary society, including  burnout, tired, positive, pornographic, intimate, transparent, control and information society to name a few.

His essays draw a dualistic map, that is good vs. bad, and the distinction can, at times, have an either–or character, for example, seduction versus porn, knowledge versus information, negative versus positive, consumers versus users, etc. In his newest book, titled The Disappearance of Rituals, Han turns to rituals to overcome the erosion of community. As symbolic acts, Han suggests that rituals can bring closure. Han also looks to rituals to “stabilize life” and make “life last.”

According to Han, closure and stability are needed because everything has been “colonized by the economic.” He observes that “in consuming emotions we do not relate to things but to ourselves. What we seek is emotional authenticity. Thus, the consumption of emotions strengthens the narcissistic relationship with ourselves.” Thus, the corrosion of community is related to narcissism. 

Han illustrates the ever-present narcissism that can be found even in so-called positive movements or slogans that focus on change: change yourself by doing this, change the world by buying or consuming this product. The problem is two-sided: to walk around in a vegan t-shirt or shoes requires money, and second, all that matters is the symbolic value. However, having a Buddha statue in your garden does not really bring people together or bring you any closer to having true insight. The problem is that some symbols have become shallow. They don’t “establish relations, only connections.” 

Han doesn’t use the concept of authenticity in an existential way but sees it as a neoliberal concept of production. “You exploit yourself voluntarily in the belief that you are realizing yourself.” Or, when everyone “is producing him- or herself in order to garner more attention … the compulsion of self-production leads to a crisis of community.” The crisis is characterized by “echo chambers,” where people mainly hear the voices of those who share their beliefs and opinions.

Thus, communication without community is compulsive and narcissistic, whereas rituals consist of narrative processes.” Another way of describing the corrosion of communities is that contemporary rituals have become “as-if-rituals,” in other words, shallow. 

The rituals that Han refers to aim to stabilize identity, to make one “at home in the world.” He refers to the Hungarian writer Péter Nádas who describes a village with an ancient pear tree at the centre, which for Han is an example of “a ritually closed place”. Under the pear tree the villagers gather and contemplate silently. In his work, Nádas unfolds a collective consciousness that “creates a community without communication.”  

Han is aware that his ideas are closely related to modern-day nationalism, but with the help of Hegel, he claims that the “spirit is a closure, an enclosing power which, however, incorporates the other” but without changing the culture that Han sees as something original, fixed and even sacred. For the same reason, he postulates that societies seek closure, or a clear identity, which for him is a “society of rules,” where such “rules rest on agreement.” Yet he doesn’t explore the difficulties in establishing rules in societies inhabited by narcissistic cultural, racial, gender, and other group identities. He paints his critique with broad strokes and, equally vaguely, states: “We must defend an ethics of beautiful forms.” 

The kind of rituals that Han proposes are rituals of closure, for example, religious festivals. For the same reason, he claims that culture unfortunately has been made profane. For Han, “culture is a form of closure, and so founds an identity.” 

I would disagree with him and claim that a closed cultural identity is a fiction. Cultures change, yet Han is persistent, for instance, when he sees danger in Deleuze’s and Guattaris’s concepts of becoming and rhizome. Unlike the two French philosophers, Han operates with a metaphysics of being. Again, I would disagree with Han by suggesting that the problem of today is related to an idealized or normative notion of being, and the result is that most people seek the same thing and do the same thing to gain attention, prestige and status or to gain followers and likes (cf. the echo chambers). There is a lack of critical thinking because people would rather feel protected and at home, that is, identified. Finally, when Deleuze and Guattari speak about becoming, it is never about the point from which something originates (e.g., cultural identity) or the point at which it arrives. Their concept of becoming is closer to “play,” which Han leans toward at the end of his book, perhaps to overcome the risk of appearing too nostalgic in his urge for rituals.

In Homo Ludens (1955), Johan Huizinga summarizes play as “free activity … an activity connected with no material interest … a voluntary activity.” Play is intrinsically valued. Later, with the Enlightenment, play was contrasted with work. Work was serious, play was unserious—a waste of time. Still, some philosophers suggest otherwise—and here Han could have improved his book by consulting more recent literature about sport and philosophy. 

Yet, to gain closure in Han’s argument, readers might be curious about what play can offer. “Thinking has the character of play” because there is no thinking without eros—or joy and freedom, I would add. 

Play is related to seduction, and with this concept, Han succeeds in tying play to rituals as something exterior, something that is repeated as when Kierkegaard’s seducer turns up at the same place every day in Cordelia’s life. Seduction also requires dwelling or time as duration because it requires a secret—a transparent person is never seductive—because all narratives are fed by a secret story. That secret might even be related to why so many people play, or watch other people play which, according to Novak (see epigraph), might have something to do with play being real, honest, and true.

Thus, what is the secret that brings people together? Play, rituals, seduction. 

After reading a few of Han’s books, you know what to expect: more of the same. To his credit, he adds a little extra each time to stimulate new readers. In this book, it is rituals and play, although he could have spent more time exploring these concepts, especially the latter. 

Still, Han’s books can awaken an appetite for a more critical approach to society—for both students and critically orientated citizens. 

Finn Janning, PhD, philosopher and writer – review first published in Metapsychology

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