This version of my writing is only still up to back-up the updated version, as I have had issues editing and republishing the newer version.
Link to new version: My Philosophical Manifesto. Forever a work in Progress | by David | Nov, 2021 | Medium
The evolution of my personal philosophy, political and otherwise, has spit me out androgynous, unassured, and weary. My recent proclivity to embrace uncertainty has rendered me without clear direction in the complex web of information and perspective that surrounds us. The writing of this article is somewhat of a personal philosophical-religious-political manifesto, an attempt at clarifying my foundational views, so that I can confidently be and stand for something.
My Political-Philosophical Lens
First and foremost, I firmly believe that the proper vehicle for philosophical application is the individual life. The principal of ‘Cleaning up your house, before you criticize the world’ is assuredly a good one. It does position me against Marxist political theory, and against statists of most kinds, to some degree, who see the proper vehicle of philosophical discovery as the political and institutional. I also, to some degree, am aligned with conservatism, in this way, as I see that the deconstruction of tyrannical institution is not as important, as it concerns the individual, as moral heroicism and individual action. I am very comfortable positioning myself against the Angela Davis’ quote, posted on the walls of the classroom I presently inhabit,
“I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.”
Because of my emphasis on the individual, in the tradition of Dr. Jordan Peterson and Fydor Dostoevsky, I have become increasingly and uncomfortably apathetic regarding the political.
Before I delve into my political perspective, and the views I now balance, I will aim to name my general philosophy. Using established terms, I would describe my views, and the views I aim to have, as Christian, existentialist, stoic, liberal, and individualistic. I draw from Biblical scripture, Fydor Dostoevsky, Søren Kierkegaard, C.S. Lewis, and Jordan Peterson. Admired but not as often echoed in my views are Adam Raguesa, Joseph Campbell, Shane Clayborn, John Stossel, Malcom Gladwell, Bret Weinstein, Voddie Baucham and Thomas Sowell.
Criticism of ‘Religious ’ Utilitarianism
I see that all questions are, at their root, theological. This has been the view of C.S. Lewis, Thomas Aquinas, and Cardinal Manning, and it is fair. Although I admire the insight of Jordan Peterson, his perspective is unapologetically utilitarian, his rock and foundation is not a belief in God, but rather the reduction of human suffering. He finds that, in turn, religious and mythical narrative, and particularly Christian story, are most effectively in the aim of instilling meaning, purpose and virtue in the lives of individuals. He believes in “objective truth”, but only as it is useful as a collectively established tenant. Peterson claims to “act as if God exists”, but his absolutes are not those of religious nature, instead based upon the collective fulfillment of positive human experience, which he sees best articulated in religious narrative. Peterson, at his root, assumes a position of theological apathy, instead embracing scientific rationalism, but finds religion useful as a result of practical observation.
Criticism of Transactional ‘Scientific Rationalism’ within Evangelicalism
Swinging the pendulum in the opposite direction, far too many 21st century Christians have lost touch with the pragmatic and narrative utility of their faith, as I see it. They have simplified the great mystery and earthly purpose of God into the transactional and evangelical. ‘Reciting this prayer is the ultimate aim of each individual’s life’, they imply, even or say.
The American Christians of my familiarity also tend to make exaggerated claims about the profs and truths of faith. They claim that belief in the Christian God is so simple, scientific, and straightforward, that anyone who does not share their faith is either engaging in a deliberate act of self-deception, prompted by conformation bias, or has not been presented with the plentiful proofs of God’s existence. They claim that observable miracles occur with regularity, and sometimes predictability, on a large scale to recipients of Christian prayer (and only to recipients of Christian prayer). They claim that to not believe in the literal, objective reality of God’s existence, as described by the Bible, is to reject the single most obvious and factually/scientifically verifiable fact.
This being said, the modern American-Evangelical Christian’s deemphasis on practical virtue, bringing Heaven to earth, in favor of ‘saving soles’ in the life beyond, continues to prove distasteful to me, but now I see it as insufficient, rather than plainly incorrect.
My Reason for Christian Faith
I believe that the way of Christ is, as practically observable, the only way to salvation on Earth, and therefore Heaven. The complete rejection of vengefulness and bitterness, in favor of brotherly love and redemption, is the only way to transcend the corruption of the world. Hurt people hurt people, per say. Each man’s actions are explained, but not justified, by what has been done unto him. Because of this, we need to direct our instinct of revenge onto the atoning sacrifice of Christ, and to act, then, in His likeness. The way of Christ is the solution, and therefore it can be reasonably assumed that He is truly God. Or at least, true belief in Christ is necessitated.
Also, there are other philosophical apologetics for the reality and necessity of the existence of God that I lend credence to. I would, however, continue to be a Christian, if there could be such a thing, apart from the objective reality of the existence of God. If I am without alterative, I submit to Søren Kierkegaard’s old adage, “to have faith is precisely to lose one’s mind so as to win God.”
Internal Contradictions within Morally-Relativistic Thinking
Everyone is subject to their own religious dogma, both in our vulnerability to fall prey to conformation bias, and in the universality of our moral applications. Moral relativists assert that to respect and legitimize the differing cultural, social, and moral standards of differing people groups is the correct method of thought and behavior. If groups are exempt from the burden of this insistence upon acceptance of variable morality, it is because they are categorized as among the lower, unenlightened peoples, outside of the burden of responsibility. For example, an isolated indigenous people, like the Waodani, is justified in acts of revenge killings and occasional cannibalism by relativists, as their culture and practices are accepted and cherished within their people: who are we to say that we are any better? This is the way they were born and raised; they do not bear the ultimate responsibility for their actions (they say). Without an objective reference, we all are only accountable to following the rules of our specific collective. If the Waodani cannibalize, let individuals within their collective cannibalize in a way that follows their established rules. If their custom is to only raid villages and slaughter children on Tuesdays, let the man who raids his neighbor’s village and slaughters his 6-year-old-daughter, on a Wednesday, be justly punished. Many do say that, in seeming opposition to this, American Southern whites harboring racial animosity do have a responsibility to expiate and uproot their prejudices. Why? These people also are of a culture and heritage, a experiential background, that would “justify” their views, much in the same way that the cultural practices of the Waodani are justified. The primary distinction made between these two groups, then, in that one bears the burden of responsibility and the other does not, is a sorting that divides all people-groups into one of two categories: an enlightened, transcendent class and an unenlightened, almost animalistic class. This distinction seems, to me, not only wrong, but also dehumanizing. To assume that there is real progress is to assume that there is a real ideal worth striving for. I’d call that objective morality, and I see it’s pursuit as a practical and philosophical necessity.
Criticism of Popular Objectivist Thinking
Also important, but quickly dismissed by the religious culture I come from is the concept of operational collective truth and narrative truth. To understand what I have labeled “operational collective truth”, consider this: public school history teachers are asked, and rightfully so, to teach not what they individually believe to the correct view of history, or the events of history as they did transpire, but the view and events of history as best understood by the collective. Teachers are asked to posit slavery as a sinful institution, but sometimes (and not often enough) asked to not reveal their thoughts on the Black Lives Matter movement. This is because there is general collective consensus that slavery was bad. They are asked to abstain from positive or negative comment on BLM because whether the movement is positive, or not, is a subject of present popular contention. Therefore, what is taught is, and should be, based upon the common consensus. On average, the collective consensus is a better proxy for objective truth than the edicts of a random individual.
I do not take this position out of disrespect to objective truth, but because to definitively declare the exact nature of the objective truth is to declare oneself, as you presently are, to be the legitimate arbiter and accessor of the objective truth. Again, we should promote a closer alignment between the collective operational consensus and the objective truth, necessarily if we have some special incite. Even as the individual goes, to identify and act according to the objective truth and objective ideals (which, as I see it, do exist and must exist), is a necessary aim, however, we must each admit our own limitations in our present understanding of this objective truth. We do not, and will not ever, perfectly access the objective truth. Because of this, we must not declare our best understanding of the truth as gospel itself. Many fail to do this, and mock terms such as “my truth” (although the term “my truth” is often used to justify a morally relativistic viewpoint — or worse — a statement that one own’s interpretation is not beholden to or tasked with the pursuit of objective reality). For these reasons, operational collective truth is real and useful, but it is not truth in the same way that objective truth is (and it could be argued that, from a linguistics perspective, the use of the word “truth” in this phrase constitutes a deliberate attempt to denature and obscure the idea of truth as more traditionally understood).
I actually find that the phrase “my truth”, when used to mean the intersection between “the truth as I best understand it” and “my personalized and individualized role to play in the pursuit of the truth”, is incredibly useful. I will never use this phrase, however, because it has become the cornerstone of the vernacular of moral relativists.
Continued Criticism of Common Universalist Argumentation
Narrative truth is, likewise, too often disregarded. Again, narrative truth is not a replacement for objective truth, but its consideration is worthwhile and important. I would describe narrative truth as the intersection between story, narrative, and the trueness of the sentiments and themes expressed. In the context of narrative truth, the word “true” does not so much mean that a narrative is objectively verifiable, but rather that the narrative is a faithful and accurate reflection of reality. In this way, an often-recited fable, tall-tale, myth, or poem takes on a life of its own, commanding people towards positive or negative behaviors and attitudes. The telling of the lives of Napoleon Bonaparte, King Leonidas of Sparta, Harry Potter, and Saint Nicholas do not often align with the objective reality of the lives of these characters, and yet the stories told of these characters live within us, influence us, and call forth the best or worst in us. The nature of our own memories, the fact of the profound unreliability of any recalled experience, alone, should convince us of the lack of alterative and potential goodness of relaying grand and beautiful story without exact narrative alignment to the objective truth. I do not believe that stories should be told with the understanding that they are factually and objectively true when they are not, this could lead to real catastrophe. Instead, I would deemphasize the importance of objective verifiability, and transmit stories that contain narrative truth without making statement of objective alignment or non-alignment. I will not tell my children that Santa Claus is real in the same way as you or I, but I will tell (and myself believe) that Santa Claus is real, in some since. Each year, millions of children, in wonderment and awe, alter their behavior because they believe that Santa Claus will reward or punish them, come Christmas Eve, for their seasonal behavior. Santa Claus is not real as you or I are real, but he is real. The proclivity for moral universalists to be overly confident in objective transparence as the most fundamental of the planes of reality is also unfortunate.
Concluding Comments on Narrative Truth
You and I likely agree that ancient polytheistic gods are not objectively real. The populations that these gods represent (or perhaps more accurately — the populations that represent these gods) do, however, act as if they are real. Suppose that two populations each feel that their god contradicts the gods of the other population and that the opposing people’s god must be assimilated or destroyed. These two populations proceed, naturally, to enter a decades long war. The first armies clash, many die. As time goes by and the tides of the war go on, the first generation of young soldiers must retire from battle; they are replaced. Soon enough, the first generation of soldiers die, and then the second. After 150 years of war, one population finally routes the other army sufficient to destroy their idols and end the worship of their gods. The war is over, but what was the most fundamental reality that compelled the war? Was it each individual, or each generation, who soon died? No, the gods were the fundamental entities at war with one another (and the ideas that they represent, manifested in their populations. The ‘fake’ gods won or lost the war, not the individuals).
Christian Action as Nearly Indistinct from Christian Belief
Truly, Christians are the hands and feet of God, as we are the mechanism by which His will is most often and profoundly enacted upon the world. What is so different, in essence, between a miracle from God and a miracle of God, enacted through His hands and feet? When a local miserly merchant sells all he owns, giving away his earthly possessions for the sake of the needy in the name of God, alleviating need and administering love, how is that so distinct from an angel himself providing for a needy but faithful family? The reality of God is closer to the influence of God than most Christians recognize.
God is the fundamental, ideas only possess us (we don’t make God, God makes us). Similarly, we do not battle flesh and blood, but powers of the air. Bitterness, vengefulness, spite and contempt are demonstratively bad. The fruits of the spirit are demonstratively good. Belief in Christ is necessitated. God does not exist to meet our needs, we exist to be the hands and feet of God.
As John Keating inspirationally spoke in Dead Poet’s Society:
“The powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. What will that verse be?”
As I would amend this quote to describe our role in relation to the divine:
God’s powerful play goes on, and, to Him, you may contribute a verse. What will that verse be?
To Conclude
Although these thoughts are not expressly political, they, along with similar religious and philosophical foundational views, govern and constitute my principals — political and otherwise. These principals compel me to virtue and discipline, and by them I will live.
