Tag: Kierkegaard

To Love Slowly

In Either/Or: A Fragment of life, the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard wrote, “Of all ridiculous things the most ridiculous seems to me, to be busy.” In this talk, I will argue why I agree with Kierkegaard but will also—perhaps more importantly—illustrate why it is so difficult to not live ridiculously. Lastly, I will show a way out by (slowly) cultivating a will to love.

This is a recording of my talk entitled “To Love Slowly“, which I presented at the Doing Deceleration Symposium at Notthingham Contemporary, July 2017.

Meet the Author

For me, philosophy is a way of living and not an academic discipline that requires you to swallow a certain amount of information to pass. Most great novelists are philosophers. The Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once said that literature in order to become philosophy must become fiction. I like that. It also shows that the distinction between philosophy and literature is rather new—perhaps stemming from Kant—but does it matter if Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, de Beauvoir, and all the others are classified as philosophers or writers?

Read the rest of the interview in Under the Gum Tree.

Kierkegaard’s Quest: How Not to Stop Seducing

I just published the paper “Kierkegaard’s Quest: How Not to Stop Seducing” in Philosophy of Management.

Abstract

Change has traditionally been perceived as something to be avoided in favor of stability. This can be witnessed in both individual and organizational approaches to change. In this paper, change as a process of becoming is analyzed. The author relates change to seduction to introduce new perspectives to the concept. The principal idea is that the process of change is a seductive experience. This assumption highlights the positive aspects of becoming, growing, and changing. In doing so, reference is made to the philosophy of Gilles Deleuze, as well as the humanistic psychology of Carl Rogers, to analyze seduction, as presented in The Seducer’s Diary by the philosopher Søren Kierkegaard. The qualification of this claim is based on this reading. Finally, a conclusion is offered through brief comments on the relationship between seduction, personal growth, and self-actualization.

Read the entire paper here: Kierkegaard’s Quest- How Not to Stop Seducing

Which dish of noodles is your life worth?

Depression is a narcissistic sickness – Byung-Chul Han, Agonie des Eros

“We no longer live in a disciplinary society controlled by prohibitions or commands, but rather in an achievement-orientated society that is allegedly free,” says philosopher Byung-Chul Han in the documentary film Müdigkeitsgesellschaft–Byung-Chul Han in Seoul/Berlin. He continues, “Yes, we presume ourselves to be free, but in reality we voluntarily and passionately exploit ourselves until we collapse.”

German video artist Isabella Greeser directed this poetic documentary film about Han. The first part reflects upon the film Der Himmel über Berlin, directed by Wim Wenders and written by Peter Handke, perhaps because it’s Byung-Chul Han’s favorite film. Müdigkeitsgesellschaft–Byung-Chul Han in Seoul/Berlin had its world premiere on February 9 at the Centre de Cultura Contemporània de Barcelona (CCCB). A few hundred people attended the show.

Byung-Chul Han is popular not only in Germany, but also in Spain, where five of his books have been lated into Spanish. Han’s thesis is that today’s neoliberalism has made politics psychological, or mental. The logic of neoliberalism has invaded our minds. This is sad, since our mind is all we have. It’s our ability to be present in our life, to think, and to love that is threatened by this invasion. We shrink mentally. More and more is said and done in the same, almost hypnotic and uncritical fashion. All that is strange, secret, or negative—in other words, all that passes through our thoughts—disappears, due to the ongoing repetition of sameness. It seems like all aspects of life suffer from the idea of “best practice,” so popular in business organizations. We lack a critical yet creative approach to overcome this confinement.

In the documentary film, we follow Byung-Chul Han as he wanders the streets of Berlin. He talks about his passion for antiquarian shops, and at least here, time seems to endure. As he passes by the tomb of philosopher Georg W. F. Hegel, he says that he is “the most important philosopher for me.” One quickly realizes that Byung-Chul Han is in no hurry, although he publishes with the speed of Usain Bolt. Still, he doesn’t seem too motivated by performance as such. On the contrary, he stops. He sits down. He reads. He closes his eyes. He pauses. All of these are forms of resistance towards today’s positivity. Luckily, he is not part of what elsewhere he has called “the terror of positivity.”

byung-chul-han--644x362

Philosophy is an intervening time, he notes in Müdigkeitsgesellschaft (Eng. Fatigue Society). Philosophy can be understood as the time of “non-doing,” “a peace time,” as he calls it, in reference to Peter Handke. The concept of “non-doing” also resembles elements of mindfulness in that it stresses that we don’t need to be doing things constantly. Non-doing allows things to unfold at their own pace.

Halfway through the film, Byung-Chul Han flies to Seoul, in South Korea. He was born there in 1959. In this part of the world, the relevance of the philosopher’s thesis and analysis becomes even more evident. People are exhausted. They sleep on the metro, on the busses, behind the cash register. It seems tragicomic. Those who are not sleeping live through the gleaming light of the ever-present cellphones. Do the cellphones work as pacemakers?

In Transparenzgesellschaft (Eng. The Transparency Society), Han notes that we are forced or coerced into participating in ongoing positive communication: declaring, “I like,” over and over, again and again. However, we don’t have to like everything. Social media forces people to communicate more. No pause. Perhaps because updates and news drop down quickly, one needs to keep adding new communications in order to remain visible. A non-visible person is like a non-existent person. It is exhausting.

This reminds me of French philosopher Gilles Deleuze, who once said that “art is not communicative, art is not reflexive. Art, science, philosophy are neither contemplative, neither reflexive, nor communicative. They are creative, that’s all.” However, in order to be creative, one needs to stop, allow oneself to be formed or touched by what is happening as it happens, without judging it according to some predefined ideal. Actually, I think that Han’s philosophy, like most forms of Buddhist meditation, tries to free us from the conventional illusion of having a self. Furthermore, unlike his German collegians at the Frankfurter School, Han is not normative in his critique, but immanent. This makes his approach more creative. Most of his critique is realized as practice. To stay with the vocabulary of Deleuze, then he points out liberating lines of flight that can change our relation to the world, for example, that it is ok not to do anything.

Byung-Chul Han claims in Agonie des Eros (Eng. The Agony of Eros) that we (far too many of us, at least) have become narcissistic. I find it difficult not to agree with him. Like Narcissus, more and more people fall into the water and drown. Or life vanishes while people are Googling their own name. Or they jump off a bridge. South Corea is on the top of the list of countries with the highest suicide rate. In the film Han passes by a bridge in Seoul that is a popular site for suicides. Apparently, no one attempts to understand the depression that leads many to commit suicide. Rather, the sadness is covered up with quotes from poems alongside colorful pictures of delicious noodle dishes. Which dish of noodles is your life worth?

Neoliberal capitalism has gone mad. Freedom has turned itself into a voluntary constraint on performance or achievement. Capitalism is like a train without brakes. We are exhausted; perhaps we need to embrace a tired society where it is okay to do nothing for a while. The Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once wrote to his fiancé Regine Olsen that freedom is the element of love. If we follow Han, then today we are not free. Instead of love and compassion, we have stress, burnout, and depression. I guess it is time to take a break. Pause. Close your eyes. Breathe.

Byung-Chul Han’s voice is both original and needed, and not just in Spanish and German. The documentary is a harmonic introduction to some of his thoughts and also provides some biographical information. Though it doesn’t add anything new regarding his ideas, it can serve as a supplement for those who still can’t find the time to sit down and read one of his short but stimulating books.

For more about Buying-Chul Han, please, see here.

Og det er vigtigt

To bøger venter på at blive omtalt. Den første: Non-Violence. Challenges and Prospects, redigeret af Bidyut Chakrabarty. Det er en antologi om ikkevold og Gandhi. Den anden: Nietzsche on Art & Life, redigeret af Daniel Came.

For et par år siden var jeg økonomisk på røven, men læselysten. Jeg kontaktede et par forlag. De sendte, jeg omtalte. Det har været en fin ordning. Tingene er i dag ikke meget anderledes, men bøgerne vil ikke blive omtalt. Hellere ikke når de er læst. Tiden er nu en anden.

Det fortælles at enhver slutning er en ny begyndelse. Hvis dette er sandt, befinder vi os altid i en mellemfase, hvor noget lige er ved at slutte, eller netop er sluttet, mens noget nyt snart vil begynde, eller netop er begyndt. Den norske forfatter Karl Ove Knausgårds åbner Min kamp i sådan en mellemfase eller zone. Det er faderens død, som sender han både fysisk og mentalt tilbage i sit eget liv.

Det fortælles ligeledes, at vi hele tiden er i gang med at revidere historien – både den store historie, såvel som vores egen. Fortællinger er ophold i tiden. Et forsøg på at få fodfæste i en porøs mellemzone. I praksis sker det, når vi slår vores klapstole ud og begynder med spørgsmålet: Hvad var det, som skete?

Spørgsmålet stilles, fordi der er noget – måske noget uklart – som vi ikke ønsker at miste, ikke ønsker at glemme; noget, som vi finder det nødvendigt at bevare. Hos Knausgård er dette skisma hele drivkraften – ikke kun i Min Kamp, men også i de to foregående romaner. Der er tydeligvis ting, som han ikke vil glemme, såvel som der er ting, som han ikke ønsker at bevare.

Denne balancegang er en frigørelsesproces, som finder sted mellem modstand og skabelse. Der er visse erindringer, som ikke skal fortrænges, men som arkiveres som mindre vigtige (indtil de en dag, måske, aktiveres igen). Ligeledes er der erindringer, som man ønsker at bevare, men som der endnu ikke har skabt et rum for. Fiktionen formår at overskride de herskende eller dominerende ideologier og normer, som præger vores egen revidering af vores levede liv. Og denne overskridelse sker i kraft af en kreativ vilje til at skabe nye erfaringsrum. Knausgårds projekt er et forsøg på at skabe et rum, hvor der er plads til et mangefold af jeg’er.

Passer det, at vi fortæller for at bevare eller destruere, det vil sige revidere historien – inklusiv vores egen? Uanset svar, så minder denne praksis påfaldende meget om den, som den chilenske forfatter Roberto Bolaño beskriver et sted i romanen 2666: at skrive ikke er et spørgsmål om vilje eller stil. Snarere er det at skrive en øvelse i fortielse eller hemmeligholdelse. Der er ingenting indeni den, som skriver. Forfatteren tager i stedet for diktat, som var han eller hun hypnotiseret af noget. Det er denne erkendelse, som gradvist er trådt frem i den roman der hedder 2014.

I begyndelsen er forfatteren forfængelig. Han værner om noget, et selvskabt ideal; men løbende spolereres dette. Det er som om at arbejdet med ham selv bringer ham videre – udover sig selv. Denne tanke er Nietzscheansk. Han overvinder sig selv.

En god filosof eller forfatter er ikke en, som værner om egne ideer og holdninger, men derimod en som formår at give plads til det, som lægger an på vedkommende med en insisterende, nærmest stædig kraft. Forfængeligheden må fordufte. Det drejer sig om at blive fri. Ingen fødes jo fri (sorry, Rousseau!). Det er netop noget man bliver … måske.

Filosofi handler om frihed. Det vil sige at enhver filosofi bevæger sig i mellemrummet mellem modstand og skabelse, fx i form af en modstand overfor herskende normer, idealer og dogmer, såvel som en kreativ eller opfindsom evne, der formår at skabe plads til det, som er i færd med at blive, men som altså ikke passer ind i de gamle billeder.

Denne tese udspringer af en linje, som Søren Kierkegaard skrev i en brev til sin forlovede Regine Olsen. Der står: ”Friheden er kærlighedens element.”

Det betyder, at det er friheden som gør et menneske i stand til at elske. Eller omvendt, uden frihed ingen kærlighed; uden frihed ingen forbindelser. Uden frihed ingen filosofi, som jo netop værner om kærligheden.

Sandheden er, at sandheden ikke sætter nogen som helst fri, men et frit menneske vil i små øjeblikke erfare noget, som han eller hun ikke kan betvivle. De bliver en anden, upersonlig, som var de i bund og grund ingen.

Jeg er fri til ikke at skrive, selvom jeg kan. Det betyder ikke, at jeg ikke vil, claro que no, blot at jeg er fri. Det er et vigtigt skridt for en, som har klamret sig til en blyant og en notesbog i mere end tyve år. Jeg er fri nok til at lade mig drive i en anden retning. Der, hvor skriften nu engang bevæger sig hen. Og det betyder, helt konkret, at de omtalte bøger ikke vil blive yderligere omtalt, men nu er de om ikke andet nævnt. Så jeg holder mit ord. Og det er vigtigt.

Pragmatism

“For empirical knowledge, like its sophisticated extension, science, is rational, not because it has a foundation but because it is a self-correcting enterprise which can put any claim in jeopardy, though not all at once.” – Wilfrid Sellars

The philosophical tradition of Pragmatism challenges the implicit assumption that our practices are necessarily inadequate and require backup from some standard or unchangeable principle that lies beyond them. This tradition argues, among many things, that there is no other world to which we can refer. Philosophy is not religion by other means; it is not babysitting, but an ongoing struggle for survival.

The reason for this post is the book Pragmatism: An Introduction, by Michael Bacon that I recently read.

Pragmatism is mainly an American story, and to some extent American philosophers tend to debate with each other. It is a closed party, which is both an advantage and a disadvantage, since, for example, the debate becomes intense but sometimes also too parochial. This book tries to provide a broader and more inclusive view.

The themes of Pragmatism are not just an American phenomenon but an interesting American phenomenon. The main difference between European and American philosophers is that many European philosophers understand philosophy, I think, as a form of life (such as the existentialist tradition from Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and Sartre to Deleuze), which has formed many thinkers regardless of their differences. The way a person thinks, feels, and acts are part of the way they live their life. Americans (I generalize) are more philosophers by profession, although this is also a tendency that is growing in Europe.

Enough of this; let us deal with the book Pragmatism. It starts with Charles Sanders Peirce, but only because William James refers to him in a lecture given in 1898. Bacon´s book presents the history of Pragmatism through a series of profiles of prominent Pragmatists: Dewey, Rorty, Davidson, Putnam, etc. Most of these are familiar faces regardless of one’s knowledge of Pragmatism per se. The book also presents profiles of a few interesting thinkers I haven´t read; yet, such as Brandom and Bernstein.

There are beliefs that the Pragmatists share, such as the view that ideas should never become rigid ideologies that refer to transcendent norms. They believe that everything is fallible and nothing is certain in all eternity, which they understand to mean unquestionable. Several Pragmatists deal with the relationship between “the game of giving and asking for reasons.” The goal of philosophy is not truth; rather, philosophy is an ongoing inquiry that may make us wiser in overcoming the various struggles or setbacks that fill our lives.

Personally, I like the style of James and Dewey, because they write very clearly, without too much jargon. The same can be said about Rorty, although some may find him too jovial at times. In my opinion, he has written some interesting essays, for instance, one on Nabokov and cruelty, which argues that the trouble with rights is that they address predetermined forms of cruelty; the idea that everything is given makes our thinking shrink (Badiou was saying something similar in a previous post).

In one interview, Rorty said, “If we take care of freedom, truth can take care of itself,” thereby emphasizing that what is most important in philosophy is freedom, not truth. The truth does not set anyone free; it is just another example of an unquestionable postulate. Being free, however, makes one amenable to a richer understanding of life.

Another interesting figure that Bacon presents is Sellars. Sellars deals with the myth of the given by stressing that the human being is distinct in his or her ability to bring understanding to the world through the creation of concepts. His ideas lead to the views of Brandom, or some of them. One very interesting idea is that language is not merely a tool. Rather, what we do is intrinsic to the structure of language. Language is not a tool to reach a goal, as some pop-coaching methods claim; rather, the interests in a goal cannot exist prior to language. If they do, then they do not have any transformative potential, which may be why some forms of coaching often comprise a never-ending story, trying to convince the poor victim (or paying client) about the significance of the goal. This idea is also related to Brandom´s idea about negative and positive freedoms, which appears to place itself in alignment with Foucault´s idea about resistance and Deleuze’s understanding of the will to power as a will to create–that is, freedom being understood as becoming through a mixture of resistance and creation. “Without a suitable language there are some beliefs, desires, and intentions that one simply cannot have.”

Some portraits, of course, I find less interesting—es lo que hay—but in general, the book serves it purpose: it introduces the reader to a vast number of thinkers related to Pragmatism in a very precise and clear way.

In conclusion, Bacon emphasizes that Pragmatists are united in what Putnam calls “the supremacy of the agent point of view,” and what Brandom calls “the primacy of the practical,” whether this concerns knowledge, communication, reasoning, etc. A very interesting result of Pragmatism is that we—all of us human beings—are in a constant clash of mentalities (not cultures, por favor!), or of standpoints and beliefs.

New readers may start to think now.

***

If interested, see also my comment on Richard J. Bernstein’s book, Why Read Hannah Arendt Now

Socialpsykologi

Den spanske psykolog José Luis Gonzáles García har skrevet en interessant socialpsykologisk bog: La construcción social del sujeto, Psicoterapia, ideología y poder en las sociedades avanzadas.

I begyndelsen slår han tonen an: Psykologi og psykoterapi handler om frigørelse. I dag er de dog reduceret til økonomiske værktøjer, der hjælper den enkelte med at restituere, så han eller hun kan håndtere det pres, som et kapitalistisk og konkurrencepræget samfund efterspørger. Kapitalen presser mennesket. Det primære problem, er, at mennesket reduceres til noget mekanisk. Denne menneskelige reduktion medfører bl.a. stress og burnout.

García foretager en horisontal idehistorisk læsning for at vise, hvilke kræfter og magter, som til forskellige tider har været dominerende, fx religiøse, politiske og kapitaliske. Han går også i kødet på den postmoderne relativisme, hvor ”alt er lige meget værd” – en tankegang, der ofte medfører, at ingen tør sige fra eller til. Det ender nemt i en falsk pluralisme, som reelt blot dækker over en kønsløshed, idet intet jo er noget værd. García inddrager også fysikken, fx Heisenberg (som konsekvent staves med ’m’) for at tydeligøre, at observatøren og det observerede ikke er to uafhængige instanser, hvilket Newton mente (jf. mekanisk). Popper tækkes frem for at understrege, at ingen teori eller metode er ufejlbarlig. Der er ingen universel lov.

De menneskelige værdier og overbevisninger tager farve af det system, som opretholder eller skaber bestemte situationer. Eksempelvis lever vi i et kapitalistisk samfund, hvor politikere og ledere (i.e. systemet) opretholder eller skaber en social kontekst, hvor det er normalt at tro, at flere penge altid er bedre end færre. Eller, hvor stort set alt værdifastsættes i forhold til økonomi, fx hvilken opdragelsesform eller institution er mest rentabel, dvs. hvilken løn ender børn fra en Rudolf Steiner skole med kontra en privat kontra en offentlig. Gad vide om det er sådan en kalkule, der har fået den danske statsminister til at sende sine børn på en privatskole, selvom hun som øverste repræsentant for systemet har mulig for at skabe en uddannelsesmæssig situation, som ikke favoriserer familier med penge. Pointen er, at  en kapitalistisk kontekst præger mennesket i retning af egoisme, da systemet ynder at udnytte sine ressourcer uden anden målestok en bundlinjens. Det har stået på så længe, at selv nye ledere blot gør mere af det samme. Omkvædet lyder: Kan det betale sig? (og man kunne spørge: Kan det betale sig, at spørge så stivbenet?)

Problemet er, at der er for mange underdanige. Det vil sige, personer som mangler en kritisk sans, men – og det er et stort MEN – der er også tale om en kritisk sans, som selvsamme system selvfølgelig ikke favoriserer, idet fx danske politikere ønsker forskning, der skaber fakturaer eller kunst, der understøtter et opdragende og politisk formål. Samfundet former sine borgere. Dette ses, fx når de fleste former for selvhjælp blot er blevet til en anden form for konsumering, som reelt intet ændrer.

Det enkelte menneske er en receptor for de værdier, overbevisninger og ideologier, som strømmer gennem samfundet. Tænk blot på, hvordan anerkendelse er tæt forbundet med indkomst, titler og status. Her er det samfundets værdier og normer, som præger hvad idealborgeren tillægger større eller mindre anerkendelse. Af samme grund er det sociale vigtigt, jf. socialpsykologi.

Løsningen for García er ikke en eksistentialisme a la Kierkegaard, Nietzsche og Sartre – personligt finder jeg meget gods i disse tænkere. Sagen er jo den, at ’jeg’ er mange, hvilke García også nævner, men ikke helt følger op på. Derimod appellerer han for mere samarbejde. Argumentet er historisk, idet det selvfølgelig er samarbejde, ikke konkurrence, som er grunden til at mennesket har udviklet sig.

Til sidst, taler han kort om nye former for terapi. Han er ikke fortaler for en naiv socialkonstruktivisme a la: Min hjerne eller tanker skaber min virkelighed. Nej, verden er i færd med at blive. Vi lever i og med den, men ved hjælp af sproglige konstruktioner, kan vi nærme os de mange kræfter og energier, som er til stede. Af samme grund er der intet slutmål, kun praksisformer. Som Nietzsche sagde: religionen er en praksis, men dens objekt er ren og skær fiktion. Det betyder, som jeg læser ham, at terapeuten ikke skal lede patienten et bestemt sted hen, men bringe denne i kontakt med verden uden dette filter af præ-definerede værdier, ideologier og normer, som gennemsyrer kapitalistiske samfund. Det betyder endvidere, at det ikke er ’mig’, som er det aller vigtigste, men hvordan ‘jeg’ formår at give plads til det, som er i færd med at blive – måske endda række noget givende videre. Det vil sige, noget har værdi, nemlig det, som bringer liv.

Og hvad der giver liv, ved ingen jo på forhånd. Det er grunden til at livet, er så forbandet interessant.

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