Too Much Talk About Liberty?

James Fitzjames Stephen is not a well-known name these days.

He was a 19th century English judge and author of a decent sized body of work. Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity was his magnum opus, and chapter 4 of that remarkably little known book has much to say about the state of political discussion in the early 21st century.

In a recent discussion of Mill’s On Liberty, I had occasion to note the mixed effects Mill’s argument is having on college campuses these days. On the one hand, there is that bracing call to freedom of thought and speech. On the other hand, the “harm principle” has been stretched beyond recognition to include all sorts of mental and emotional harm.

Stephen noted the problems of Mill’s arguments when Mill was making the argument. In the chapter “The Doctrine of Liberty in its Application to Morals,” Stephen argues that Mill’s argument is going to have extremely pernicious effects.

He begins by noting that this principle of Liberty can be used to defend all manner of things which most people find abhorrent and would happily ban from the society. Stephen’s particular example is quaint:

A number of persons form themselves into an association for the purpose of countenancing each other in the practice of seducing women, and giving the widest possible extension to the theory that adultery is a good thing. They carry out these objects by organizing a system for the publication and circulation of lascivious novels and pamphlets calculated to inflame the passions of the young and inexperienced.

Stephen thinks that would be a very bad thing. Stephen would be aghast at the combination of modern college fraternities and the internet.

But, we don’t have to think about that example. Consider necrophilia. Would you like to live in a society which had no prohibitions on that practice? It harms no other person, so Mill’s argument would seem to allow it. I trust that you, dear Reader, are not so inclined to permit it.

As a result, Stephen argues, Mill’s absolutist position on tolerance has a giant problem. We don’t necessarily want to tolerate everything:

Complete moral tolerance is possible only when men have become completely indifferent to each other—that is to say, when society is at an end. If, on the other hand, every struggle is treated as a war of extermination, society will come to an end in a shorter and more exciting manner, but not more decisively.
A healthy state of things will be a compromise between the two.

Ah, compromise. That is a lost art.

What happened to compromise? Why on a modern college campus does everyone seem to be at war all the time? Why does everyone treat every issue as a war of extermination? How did we go from the Academy being the center of disintegrated debate to ground zero in the spread of intolerance to All Who Dare to Disagree?

According to Stephen, it is Mill again. What happens when you raise up generation after generation who are indoctrinated with gospel of liberty?

Practically, the effect of the popularity of the commonplaces about liberty has been to raise in the minds of ordinary people a strong presumption against obeying anybody, and by a natural rebound to induce minds of another class to obey the first person who claims their obedience with sufficient emphasis and self-confidence. It has shattered to pieces most of the old forms in which discipline was a recognized and admitted good, and certainly it has not produced many new ones.

That could have been written today. First, we preach the doctrine of liberty, teaching every kid to “Just Do It,” to shake off the shackles of tradition, and to live your own life in your own way. Nothing is certain; there are no fixed points, things which we should do simply because that is the way things are done.

Then, people who have been raised to reject authority reach college and meet The Woke, that endlessly self-confident group who demand obedience to the Higher Cause. Many people looking for some fixed point in a rootless life are naturally attracted.

If Stephen is right here, then it raises a rather fascinating question. Is it possible to extol Liberty too much?

Until now, I have always thought of Liberty as one of those inherently good things, one of those things you teach your children to love. But, what if talking about Liberty in this way produces harm? What if talking about Liberty induces a rejection not just of totalitarian oppression, but also tradition? What if talking about Liberty as an abstract good leads directly to an embrace of second-rate totalitarians who promise even more freedom from oppression by joining in the war of extermination against all opponents.

The practical inference from this is that people who have the gift of using pathetic language ought not to glorify the word “liberty” as they do, but ought, as far as possible, to ask themselves before going into ecstasies over any particular case of it, Who is left at liberty to do what, and what is the restraint from which he is liberated? By forcing themselves to answer this question distinctly, they will give their poetry upon the subject a much more definite and useful turn than it has at present.

Part of me want to reject Stephen outright. Surely preaching Liberty does not lead directly to the guillotine, right?

Ok, obviously sometimes preaching liberty does lead to a reign of terror.

The question for the day: is it possible that Stephen is right that the Committee on Public Safety arises not because of a deficiency of support for liberty but because of an excess in belief in liberty? I have never thought of the question framed precisely this way. I am suddenly afraid the answer might be yes.

The Pleasures of Noir

Today’s theme: Noir.

And therein lies a puzzle. What exactly is Noir?

Start with Woolrich’s I Married a Dead Man, which is included in the Library of America’s volume: Crime Novels: American Noir of the 1930’s and 1940’s. If it is in a volume like that, it must be Noir.

Then consider the Loeb/Sale collaborations: Batman: The Long Halloween and Batman: Dark Victory. The preface to the first volume says that the book was born when an editor met with Loeb and said, “I always liked what you two did with gangsters. Ever thought about doing a kind of film noir tale?”

So, what is it that connect these books?

The Woolrich story is good. A penniless (technically, nearly penniless) pregnant women is in a train crash which kills a newly wedded couple, and (for absurd reasons) is mistaken for the dead wife, brought into the home of the dead husband’s rather wealthy family, falls in love with the dead husband’s brother, and is all set for a wonderful future when her deception catches up with her ending in a terribly ambiguous ending about the prospects for happiness for one and all.

Not a lot of mystery here—the central mystery foreshadowed in the introductory chapter means there is either an unreliable narrator or the brother did it—and there is no way to tell from the story which and it doesn’t really matter which for the purposes of the story. This is clearly a book designed to evoke a mood, not tell a tightly constructed story. In both regards it does a pretty good job.

The Loeb/Sale Batman books are one part the continuation of the story begin in Frank Miller’s Batman: Year 1, and one part giant murder mystery (or technically since we are talking about two books, two different murder mysteries, which are linked, so in a technical sense it is two books, but it is really just one long story with a natural break point)

Endless references to The Godfather (parts 1 and 2—thankfully, Loeb and Sale also seem perfectly willing pretend part 3 never happened). [The Godfather references are sometimes pretty funny—some of them are fairly overt, but a lot of them are just something in the picture.]  

I read these books years ago and I thought they were OK. Rereading them, I thought they were fantastic. I have no idea why I was less impressed the first time I read them, but after this rereading, they are definitely some of the best of Batman. The art is really good and the story is well done.

The link? What makes them both Noirish? Google “Noir” and you get a lot of gobbledygook (that’s a technical phrase). Noir is, as far as I can tell, one of those things you know when you see it. Except I am not sure I do. Obviously Noir is dark (I think Comedic Noir is an oxymoron) and has a crime of some sort. Gritty? That might be part of it.

The OED defines it thus: “A genre of crime film or detective fiction characterized by cynicism, sleaziness, fatalism, and moral ambiguity.” That certainly sounds Noirish, but I Married a Dead Man isn’t terribly cynical or sleazy—there is one character who is both, but the story as a whole is neither. The Loeb/Sale Batman comics have zero moral ambiguity, and not much fatalism. And when I think over the other novels in the Library of America volume containing the Woolrich tale, I am not sure any of them—all of which have the LOA stamp (and is there a Higher Authority on such things?) saying they are authoritatively Noir—fit that description perfectly. 

Oddly, my ability to come up with anything resembling a definition does not seem to faze me much. If I was asked if I like Noir as a genre, I wouldn’t hesitate to say I did. Why? There I get stuck because in order to explain why I like a genre, I would necessarily need to define the genre and I have a hard time doing that. But, I do like it. I really enjoyed all three of these books.

Is it a moral failing to enjoy reading tales suffused with moral ambiguity about cynical, sleazy, fatalistic characters? I don’t think so.

But why not? If human depravity is a bad thing (which I hope is not a controversial proposition), then why shouldn’t reading a tale about human depravity also be a bad thing? Undoubtedly there are many who would argue they are equivalent. However, understanding humanity is surely a good thing (also non-controversial), and thus shouldn’t reading a tale which teaches us something about the human condition also be a good thing? Raising the question like this really feels like sophomoric rambling—probably because it is sophomoric rambling.

Yet, I am, in fact, mildly troubled by the fact that I am not in the least bit troubled about enjoying reading Noir—it doesn’t bother me, and I am not really bothered that I am not bothered, but I am a bit bothered by the fact that I am not bothered than I am not bothered. Yeah, I know that sounds like I just have too much time on my hands, but nonetheless, it is real.

Recommending these books—well, assuming your conscience is not bothered—the Woolrich book was a nice end to the LOA volume, and I would highly recommend the LOA volume. Good stories throughout. The Batman books I would also highly, very highly, recommend if you liked Miller’s Year 1. (Don’t bother reading them if you haven’t read the Miller volume, which is easily one of the most important Batman comics, so if you haven’t read that book yet, you should certainly do so.)

The Rise and Decline of John Stuart Mill

Free speech is under assault these days.  You know that.  You don’t need more examples of what is happening on college campuses.  Even the idea of discussing free speech is under assault.

It would seem to be a good time to read (or reread) John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty.

First though, we have to overcome the idea that even talking about whether free speech is a good idea is permissible.  You see, if you are going to seriously talk about free speech, then you can’t just talk about whether people should be allowed to say things you like.  You have to talk about whether people should be allowed to say things you dislike.  Things you intensely dislike.  Things you think are wrong.  Things you think are morally wrong. 

Enter Mill:

If all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind. Were an opinion a personal possession of no value except to the owner; if to be obstructed in the enjoyment of it were simply a private injury, it would make some difference whether the injury was inflicted only on a few persons or on many. But the peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.

That is bracing stuff.  That is the sort of thing that you hear and you want to cheer and say “Atta boy, Johnny!”

But, alas, it’s not so easy.  Mill loves the idea of liberty to be sure.  But, he also insists there are limits on my liberty.  I have the liberty to swing my hand through the air if I want to do so.  Well, I have that liberty up until my hand comes into contact with your head.

[The] sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilised community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others.

If you ask an undergrad these days what are the limits to liberty, they all cite Mill.  Well, technically most of them just cite the principle that my liberties end when they infringe or your liberties.  Most of them have never actually read Mill.

At one level, it is hard to argue with Mill on the end result.  I surely don’t have the right to sock you in the face so hard that you stay plastered. (Bonus points if you get the reference without Google.)

But, does this also apply to speech?  Suppose you say something that hurts me.  Does your right of free speech end when it causes me pain?

Mill’s answer about liberty is fundamentally utilitarian.  He says my liberty ends when it infringes on yours. But, then the canonical example is not sufficient. If I hit you, I am not depriving you of liberty to do anything.  We also have to add that you have the liberty to not be hurt by my actions. 

Consider this: I would be hurt if you hit me in the face.  I would also be hurt if you tell me the Oakland Raiders are losers.  Suppose the second hurts me more than the first.  In Mill’s formulation, if the first is prohibited, why isn’t the second?

And from that line of reasoning comes speech codes and the attack on free speech.  It looked like Mill was giving us grounds for a robust argument in favor of free speech, but in the end, he may very well have undermined his own argument.

So, if we are going to still have free speech, then we really need to build the argument for it on grounds other than Mill’s shifting sand.  Natural Law gives firmer ground, but it has gone so far out of fashion, it is a tough sell today.  That doesn’t mean it is wrong; it just means that we should not expect any sudden change in the attack on free speech.  It will take some time to build up a more robust defense of free speech which is persuasive in the modern world. 

Another way of saying the same thing, there is not currently a close race between the opponents of free speech and the defenders of free speech over the future of the academy.  The opponents are winning.  As the general climate of opinion on a campus turns against free speech, then it gets harder for the lonely individual to assert the right to say anything the individual wants to say.  As the social pressures to conform mounts, it gets even more difficult.

The freedom to say what you believe is not guaranteed.  If you think it is important, then you need to defend it.  And that means you need to defend the right to speech by the very people with whom you disagree most.

Science Says…

“Science says…” That is one of those sentence starters which is designed to end discussion. If Science says something, then it is obviously True. Indeed, even those people who routinely deny the existence of Truth are perfectly happy asserting that if Science has said something, then even though there is no Truth, well…that doesn’t include Science because Science is True.

Scientists are the Priests of the world without God.

Carlo Rovelli, a theoretical physicist, has written a few books now revealing the secrets of the temple of Science to those outside its walls. And it is, as Rovelli is quick to point out, not a pretty picture for those who want to believe in the all-knowing Science. Rovelli repeatedly come back to: “This permanent doubt, the deep source of science.”

The book: Reality Is Not What It Seems. In this case, the title is a perfect summary of the book. If you want to understand the state of science today, if you want to go on a mind-bending journey into what we know and what we do not know about the physical world, then you will love this book. Beautifully written, engaging and lively. It’s a masterpiece. (Also, the mathematics are kept to a minimum for those not interested in wading through the equations. Rovelli is a story teller, a good one.)

But, before you start, just look at that title again. What you will discover in this book is that Reality is not at all what you think it is.

There are two pillars of our current conception of reality. General Relativity and Quantum Mechanics.

General Relativity warps the old Newtonian view of objects moving linearly though time and space. Instead, as Rovelli summarizes:

[We] are immersed in a gigantic, flexible mollusk (the metaphor is Einstein’s). The sun bends space around itself, and Earth does not circle around it drawn by a mysterious distant force but runs straight in a space that inclines, like a bead that rolls in a funnel: there are no mysterious forces generated by the center of the funnel; it is the curved nature of the funnel wall that guides the rotation of the bead. Planets circle around the sun, and things fall, because space around them is curved.

Einstein continued to draw out the implications of this in all sorts of ways. Time is not a fixed thing; it varies with the speed of the object moving through time. The universe is neither infinite nor does it have a boundary—it curves, so if you got in a spaceship and sailed straight out from the earth, you would eventually arrive at the earth.

General relativity is hard to describe in words. It works in Mathematics. Understand the math and you understand general relativity. But, is the math a correct description of the world in which we live? Absolutely. There have been very many tests of General Relativity. It passes them all.  

Set aside General Relativity for a moment. Think about Quantum Mechanics.

Think about an object. Any object. Where is that object? This seems like a really easy question to answer. Along come Heisenberg. Rovelli explains:

What if, effectively, electrons could vanish and reappear? What is these were the mysterious “quantum leaps” that appeared to underlie the structure of the atomic spectra? What if, between one interaction with something, and another with something else, the electron could literally be nowhere?

The conclusions of this line of thought are staggering. Matter and light are granular, like little pebbles which continually vanish and reappear. The future location of all these granular things is indeterminate; there is a probability distribution governing the world which makes the exact nature of the world unpredictable. Note this is not saying what you will do tomorrow is unpredictable (though it may be); it is saying the location of an atom in the future is unpredictable. And then, we cannot describe how things “are;” we can describe how things enter into relationships with other things instead, the relationships are what define the things.

Again, none of this really makes any sense translated into words. There are very many things wrong with the paragraph above. But the mathematics makes perfect sense. We just can’t translate the mathematics in anything less than a wobbly fashion. But, are the mathematics a correct way to describe the world? Absolutely. Quantum theory passes very single test it encounters.

You might think what has just been said is a bit weird and hard to understand. But, now we get to the really mind-blowing part.

1. General Relativity is a correct description of the world; it works mathematically and has been verified empirically.

2. Quantum Theory is a correct description of the world; it works mathematically and has been verified empirically.

3. General Relatively and Quantum Theory cannot both be true. They contradict each other.

A university student attending lectures on general relativity in the morning, and others on quantum mechanics in the afternoon, might be forgiven for concluding that his professors are fools, or they haven’t talked to each other for at least a century. In the morning, the world is a curved space-time where everything is continuous; in the afternoon, the world is a flat one where discrete quanta of energy leap and interact.

Remember that sentence that starts “Science says…”?

Theoretical physicists are still working to figure out how to reconcile theories which seemingly both cannot be true. Rovelli sketches out his preferred answer, and if you are ready for some even more mind-blowing description of what you used to call reality, well, enjoy.

Rovelli sets out to describe quantum gravity, a possible explanation of the world.

The first conclusion: Space does not exist. We think of space as a continuum in which particles move, but instead, maybe space doesn’t exist. There is a minimum quantum of volume. No space smaller than that unit exists. So there is no such thing as a space between these quantum units.

The second conclusion: Time does not exist. Time like space has minimum units and indeterminacy and, well, by the time your work out the mathematics, there is nothing recognizable as time anymore.

So if space doesn’t exist and time doesn’t exist, what does exist? Rovelli calls it the covariant quantum field, but he really doesn’t have a coherent description of this in words.

Indeed reality is not what it seems. We don’t really know what reality is. We don’t really have any ability to explain it. But, you can safely toss out all those ideas you have about what physical reality is. Science says it just ain’t so.

Make the Holy Roman Empire Great Again

For the last year, Why Liberalism Failed by Patrick Deneen has been one of those books of the moment in conservative intellectual circles.

(No, conservative intellectual is not an oxymoron. I know you thought that. The joke was already old in the 1960s.)

The first thing to note about the book’s title is that the Liberalism that Failed is not that found in the Democratic Party. This is not a Republican tirade against Democrats. The Liberalism here is the old use of the term, the liberalism of John Locke and the Founding Fathers. It isn’t the Democrats that have failed. It’s also the Republicans and, indeed, the entire American Experiment.

What has caused this failure? The very successes of liberalism—from our political system to the massive technological advances—have led to a collapse of society. Look around. Whatever social ills exist do so because liberalism has succeeded all too well. Truly, pick your poison and Deneen is here to show you that the problem you just described arose because of the triumph of liberalism and that your idea that more liberalism will solve the problem is foolish at best.

As a result, the book is incredibly repetitive. I read it with a reading group and every single student thought the book would have been vastly better as a journal article.

Tedium aside, does the argument hold? Somewhat.

Deneen notes, quite correctly, that there is a sharp break in the conception of the idea of “liberty” during the Enlightenment. It is one of those breaks where it sure would be nice if we just had two different English words to describe the two different meanings, but, alas, we do not.

Calling them the ancient view of liberty and the modern view of liberty is clunky, but accurate. The ancient view of liberty was that we were liberated from our degraded lives, living like animals, when we found ourselves free to live lives of a higher order. The modern view of liberty is that I am free when we remove any external constrains on allowing me to do what I want to do.

Deneen explains the problem of the rise of the modern view of liberty:

[The] classical and Christian emphasis upon virtue and the cultivation of self-limitation and self-rule relied upon reinforcing norms and social structures arrayed extensively throughout political, social, religious, economic, and familial life. What were viewed as the essential supports for a training in virtue—and hence, preconditions for liberty from tyranny—came to be viewed as sources of oppression, arbitrariness, and limitation.

Therein lies the fundamental problem. Deneen dresses it up a bit, but stripped to its essence, Deneen is noting that the modern view on liberty has completely destroyed all the norms and social structures that used to make it possible to live as free people in the ancient sense of liberty.

It is an interesting argument. Is it true?

Deneen gets into horrible trouble in this book when he tries to explain his vision of the better society. If Liberalism is so bad, is he arguing that we should just go back to those good old days before the Enlightenment? Well, he doesn’t want to say that, and in a rather “Stamp your foot when you say that” conclusion insists that he is not saying we should go back. We have to go forward.

But, why can’t we go back? Well, Deneen knows you aren’t going to like going back. Why not? Because back means we get rid of all the evil things liberalism has brought. Things like, you know, the internet, which has destroyed your need for a local community. And penicillin, which is a perfect example of humans trying to assert control over nature. Deneen doesn’t want to get rid of the internet and penicillin. So, we aren’t going back. Just forward.

How does that work? In a very telling remark, Deneen explains one of the problems with the Liberal vision, nicely echoing Edmund Burke.

Liberalism’s founders tended to take for granted the persistence of social norms, even as they sought to liberate individuals from the constitutive associations and education in self-limitation that sustained these norms. In its earliest moments, the health and continuity of families, schools, and communities were assumed, while their foundations were being philosophically undermined.

Now replace “Liberalism’s founders” with “Patrick Deneen.” And replace the list of things that pre-liberalism had created with the things liberalism has created. How exactly is Deneen any different than the early Liberals?  Deneen wants to assume that in the Brave New World he imagines, we get to keep all the benefits of liberalism and just get rid of the things he doesn’t like.

Which leads one to wonder: what are the things in our Liberal World Order that Deneen wants to keep and what are the things he wants to abandon? What will be the shape of this new society? Do we get to keep the internet? Do Marvel movies still get made? Does Deneen still get to teach at Notre Dame?

He is surprisingly silent on how all this is supposed to work. And that points directly to the fact that Deneen is being rather disingenuous in this book. We can see this in the strange case of Martin Luther.

As Deneen frequently notes, the original sin of liberalism is the idea that we are primarily individuals, not members of a community.

Liberalism is most fundamentally constituted by a pair of deeper anthropological assumptions that give liberal institutions a particular orientation and cast: 1) anthropological individualism and the voluntarist conception of choice, and 2) human separation from and opposition to nature.

Now where in the history of the West is the first articulation of this idea of anthropological individualism, this idea that the individual is the fundamental deciding unit? Martin Luther, of course. In a series of tracts, Luther stands against Europe and declares that we are all priests before God, that we do not need a priestly caste to intercede with us before God, that the Bible should be translated into the language which the people can read, and that every individual with the help of the Holy Spirit can interpret that Scripture. Luther is obviously the ultimate villain in Deneen’s argument. What gave Luther the right to assert this vision of autonomous individuals before God?

So, it is not a surprise that in the paragraph immediately following the passage just quoted, Deneen notes the originator of individualism is…Thomas Hobbes. OK, that was a surprise. A few paragraphs down we find John Locke. What happened to Luther? Deneen pulls a fascinating sleight of hand. In the paragraph immediately following the one above, he writes:

The first revolution, and the most basic and distinctive aspect of liberalism, is to base politics upon the idea of voluntarism—the unfettered and autonomous choice of individuals. This argument was first articulated in the protoliberal defense of monarchy by Thomas Hobbes.

Note the insertion of the word “politics” into the sentence. Luther wasn’t (only) talking about politics, see, so it makes sense to talk about Hobbes and Locke.

OK, not that big of a deal. In the endless examples of individualism which Deneen discusses, he is certainly allowed to talk about political individualism too. So, he must discuss the problem with Luther elsewhere, right?

Where does Martin Luther, the founder of individualism and thus liberalism get mentioned in Deneen’s book? Curiously he is only mentioned once in the entire book. On page 223. In the Index. Note: that does not mean that the Index only gives one place where Luther is mentioned. It means the Index is the only place the name Martin Luther appears at all. The Index lists page 112 after Luther’s name, but Luther is not mentioned on page 112. Nor anywhere else in the book for that matter.

This is rather curious. How did Luther end up in the Index if his name is not even in the book? Well, it turns out there is a sentence on page 112 in which it would have been quite easy to have slipped Luther’s name:

[The Liberal arts] reflect, instead, a pre-modern understanding—one found in the teachings of such authors as Plato, Aristotle, and Cicero, and in the biblical and Christian traditions, articulated not only in the Bible but in the works of Augustine, Aquinas, Dante, More, and Milton.

But Luther isn’t in that list on p 112, though the index would suggest that maybe he was there in an earlier draft. And, lo and behold, Milton, the person with the six letter name in that list on page 112 is (obviously totally coincidentally) not listed in the Index.

Why does this absence of Luther matter? It tells us something interesting. Imagine Deneen’s book as he could have written it with Luther front and center. Reading the book, you can even imagine a whole extra chapter about the problems of Individualism in religion. You see when people got this crazy idea that they could stand before God as individuals, they remove all the societal authority the Universal Church had to rein in society in order to help us retain that ancient source of liberty. If Deneen’s argument in this book is right, then the Protestant Reformation, not Hobbes and Locke, was the break point.

Why doesn’t Deneen just say this? It would show his cards.

This book isn’t just a complaint about a secular liberal order; it is a complaint about a fractured religious order. And once you see that, you realize why the book does not end in a clarion call to move to a beautiful vison of the future. Deneen wants to bring back the Holy Roman Empire, a society in which there is just one Church, the true Church, the Church of Rome, with the power to limit all the damages of liberalism causing all the social ills of the world around us. Of course we get to keep the internet, but it will no longer have all the degrading locations to visit. Of course we get to keep modern medicine, but not those things that fundamentally degrade the human being. Of course Deneen gets to keep teaching at Notre Dame, but it will be a religious school again.

But, if Deneen had said all that, we wouldn’t all be talking about this book. Indeed, one might think the Protestants would have just rolled their eyes at it. And in modern America, Deneen needs the help of the Protestants to bring about his vision. Hopefully they won’t notice where this is heading until it is too late.

In the end, this is an incredibly disappointing book. One hopes that next time, maybe Deneen will have the courage of his convictions and write a more honest book.

Tartuffe, Kanye, and Saul of Tarsus

Consider Tartuffe, Moliere’s play about a scoundrel who pretends to be a pious man in order to convince a wealthy dupe to hand over all his wealth.

The play is funny, which you knew became Moliere wrote it. It raises some interesting questions about what it means to be dishonest.

If I act better than I am, does that mean I am dishonest? Suppose I am a terrible person, but in public, I act like a good person. Is that bad? Hard to say Yes to that.

We read this in one of my reading groups. Consider the following situation. Someone befriends a very wealthy person and then spends years being the best friend the wealthy person could ever have. The wealthy person lives and dies very happy to have had such a truly wonderful friend, and then leaves the entire estate to this good friend. That is a great story, isn’t it? But, the friend was only pretending to be a friend in order to get the money. Does that change the story? Is that morally acceptable? The wealthy person really was happier having such a good friend and never discovered the deceit. Yet, the students in the reading group were nearly unanimous that this person pretending to be a friend would be doing a terrible thing.

Curious. Does intention or action matter more?

But, while that is what we talked about in the reading group, what I thought about during and after reading the play was…Kanye West. I realized that the current national discussion about Kanye is highly related to the plot of Tartuffe.

As I recently noted in a blog post, I have been convinced for a couple of years now that if Kanye decides to run for President, he cannot be beat. The last couple of weeks has been a perfect example of why.

Yet, part of the national discussion is whether Kanye is being serious with this album. It appears that many people have a sneaking suspicion that this is all some elaborate scam, that Kanye has not really converted, that this is just another money grab by a guy who has grabbed a lot of money in his time.

Kanye, as you know unless you live under a rock, just released a new album, Jesus is King. I listened to it expecting a sort of mild nod to Christianity. I was wrong to expect that. Kanye, who goes all in on everything, has gone all in here. This is a good old-fashioned gospel album. The lyrics aren’t subtle at all; this is Billy Graham Crusade levels of overt Christianity. You could play this album in a fundamentalist Baptist church and not be able to tell the difference between the content of the lyrics and the content of the sermon.

Why? Why would anyone doubt that Kanye is serious here? It is because we have all been culturally conditioned by plays like Tartuffe to equate expressions of religious belief with charlatans.

Now I understand why people outside the church would think like that. If you do not realize the truth of Christianity, then there is no way you could understand the notion of a life-changing conversion to Christianity.

But, what if you are inside the church? One of the foundational stories of the church, one of those stories we tell each other all the time, is the story of Saul of Tarsus being blinded by the light of Christ and turning from being the Church’s greatest persecutor into its greatest evangelist. Christians believe in conversion. It is central to Christian doctrine. So, why doubt Kanye?

Kanye talks about exactly this phenomena on the album itself:

Told the devil that I’m going on a strike
I’ve been working for you my whole life
Nothing worse than a hypocrite
Change, he ain’t really different
He ain’t even try to get permission
Ask for advice and they dissed him
Said I’m finna do a gospel album
What have you been hearin’ from the Christians?
They’ll be the first one to judge me
Make it feel like nobody love me

What are you hearing from the Christians indeed. Isn’t it a part of Christian doctrine to accept the convert at his word? Isn’t it part of the role of the church to accept the prodigal son with open arms? Doesn’t finding the lost coin or the lost sheep bring great joy in heaven?  Yes, we know that sometimes people enter the church on false pretenses, but what gives anyone in the church the right to prejudge another’s conversion?

We get called halfway believers
Only halfway read Ephesians
Only if they knew what I knew, uh
I was never new ’til I knew of
True and living God, Yeshua
The true and living God
(Somebody pray for me)

A guy puts out what could easily become one of the top selling gospel albums. Every song is a testament to Christ and the significance of conversion and the importance of belief and an explanation of the life we should lead. And people in the church doubt him? Imagine an album with lyrics like this:

Everything that hath breath praise the Lord
Worship Christ with the best of your portions
I know I won’t forget all He’s done
He’s the strength in this race that I run
Every time I look up, I see God’s faithfulness
And it shows just how much He is miraculous
I can’t keep it to myself, I can’t sit here and be still
Everybody, I will tell ’til the whole world is healed
King of Kings, Lord of Lords, all the things He has in store
From the rich to the poor, all are welcome through the door
You won’t ever be the same when you call on Jesus’ name
Listen to the words I’m sayin’, Jesus saved me, now I’m sane
And I know, I know God is the force that picked me up
I know Christ is the fountain that filled my cup
I know God is alive, yeah
He has opened up my vision
Giving me a revelation
This ain’t ’bout a dead religion
Jesus brought a revolution
All the captives are forgiven
Time to break down all the prisons
Every man, every woman
There is freedom from addiction
Jesus, You have my soul
Sunday Service on a roll
All my idols, let ’em go
All the demons, let ’em know
This a mission, not a show
This is my eternal soul
This my kids, this the crib
This my wife, this my life
This my God-given right
Thank You, Jesus, won the fight

Or how about this message for the culture?

Get your family, y’all hold hands and pray
When you got daughters, always keep ’em safe
Watch out for vipers, don’t let them indoctrinate
Closed on Sunday, you my Chick-fil-A
You’re my number one, with the lemonade
Raise our sons, train them in the faith
Through temptations, make sure they’re wide awake
Follow Jesus, listen and obey
No more livin’ for the culture, we nobody’s slave

You really want say this isn’t a Christian album?

OK, some of the lyrics are a bit groan inducing

The IRS want they fifty plus our tithe
Man, that’s over half of the pie
I felt dry, that’s on God
That’s why I charge the prices that I charge
I can’t be out here dancin’ with the stars
No, I cannot let my family starve

Yeah, Kanye, without charging high prices, Kim Kardashian would surely starve.

But the point remains. Kaye isn’t perfect. That too is part of Christian doctrine. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. Why assume Kanye is like Tartuffe instead of like Saul of Tarsus?

And note, if (well, when) Kanye does run for President he will be the most explicitly Christian candidate for President since Pat Robertson. Imagine uniting Christians and aficionados of rap music and reality TV into a giant coalition. Who is going to win against that?

Keeping up with the Kardashians: The White House Years. Gonna be a big hit.

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