Police Brutality (1 of 2)

June 29, 2020June 28, 2020 / Charles Atkins / 4 Comments

Unknown-1 In light of the murder of George Floyd on May 25 at the hands of a police officer and his fellow officers who stood idly by, worsened by the shooting soon after of Rayshard Brooks and a whole host of others, invoking the painful memories of the past murders of Breonna Taylor, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner, to name just a few, and in reaction to the violent law enforcement response to protests for the Black Lives Matter movement, people who are upset with these unjust acts, perpetrated by the very people supposed to protect us, are seeking radical change while asking themselves constantly: Why does this keep happening? Why does it seem that police never learn, that police brutality continues, and Unknown-2 that justice is kept deferred? Why, with all that is happening, does senseless, unnecessary violence haunt the streets and neighborhoods of America? When people of color fear for their lives every day, when concerned citizens who are freely and peacefully protesting are shot at with rubber bullets and gassed and beaten, and when safety is threatened by those who swear to ensure it, there will be cries of ACAB—All Cops Are Bastards—and calls for the defunding, and even abolition, of the police. In chaotic times like these, we look for reasons behind it all: What could possibly drive someone to act so cruelly? So in this post, I will be exploring (by no means exhaustively) the question of why police tend to resort to brutality. Continue reading →

Wolfe on Cynicism and Idealism

June 26, 2020June 23, 2020 / Charles Atkins / Leave a comment

From page 201 of Thomas Wolfe’s novel Look Homeward, Angel:

Screen Shot 2020-05-19 at 4.19.48 PM

Heidegger and the Anthropocene (3)

June 22, 2020June 21, 2020 / Charles Atkins / Leave a comment

Unknown When the “New World” was first “discovered” by Europeans, it was practically untouched, seeing as the Native Americans lived peacefully and sustainably, without technologies that could devastate the landscapes. As such, the early settlers were in awe of Nature; they were both amazed by its beauty and vastness and terrified by its primal, unknown wildness. This nuanced attitude would evolve over time, such that, by 1890, it was declared that the frontier was over, that all land in the United States had been explored; the expansion of the nation during Manifest Destiny conceived of nature in the beautiful sense, exemplified by Thoreau, and the terrifying sense, as something which, along with the Native Americans, needed to be either civilized or decimated. But in the early 1900s, for example, during the presidency of Theodore Roosevelt, conservation was seen as urgent. The point is that Nature as a concept has undergone changes, originally seen as positive, then as something negative. There was something holy and godly about Nature in early people, Heidegger observed, an enchantment unknown to modern man.

Reading the passage, one might be confused by the mention of “machination.” What is that? While it is traditionally defined as some sneaky, devious plan, Heidegger has his own unique definition of it. Essentially, it encapsulates what has already been said about the Modern Age. Machination, for Heidegger, is equivalent to technology, and he also has a third word for it: Enframing. He summarized it thus:

From [modern philosophy] arises a completely new relation of man to the world and his place in it. The world now appears as an object open to the attacks of calculative thought, attacks that nothing is believed able any longer to resist. Nature becomes a gigantic gasoline station, an energy source for modern technology and industry (Discourse on Thinking, 50).

Unknown-1 Basically, machination is the counterpart to φύσις; in fact, it is closer to another Greek term, τέχνη (techne), which, similarly to ποίησις, denotes the process of creating, except that, unlike with ποίησις, describing self-creation, τέχνη deals with the process of creation by human means. From it, we get words like “technique” and—”technology.” As a result, we can say that technology is, like physis, a mode of revealing the world, and it does so in a way that makes beings subject to human making, or machination. Heidegger, however, thought of technology rather uniquely: He distinguished between technology as we know it—e.g., phones, refrigerators, planes, knives, bulldozers—and the “essence” of technology.

This way, Heidegger was able to avoid saying something like, “All technology is bad and should be destroyed” since, realistically, as he himself knew, that would be impossible; instead, machination, enframing, and technology, all being the same thing, derive their influence from the essence of technology. What is the essence of technology? It is enframing. Enframing, if you think about it, is self-explanatory: It is the process of en-framing, that is, putting into a frame. Technology, as such, is not a physical object, nor a set of them, but a way of seeing or revealing, a mindset almost. By enframing Nature, we represent it and cast it as an object, as an exploitable resource. Rather than approach Nature with deference like the Greeks, we moderners approach it with our pickaxes and oil rigs.

Unknown-2 Technology is inextricably connected with willing, too. Through calculation, which Heidegger mentioned before, and ordering, technology engages the will by taking control of resources in a methodical way. Calculation is a reckoning, or dealing with, “facts” presumed by enframing, carrying out and devising operations regarding natural resources that have been reduced to commodities. Heidegger declared our age to be that of the “New Order” by which he drew attention to the fact that, these days, anything goes as marketable, up to consumer tastes. All things become serviceable, measured by pure utility in the economic sector. Following this is “planned distribution” in which “everything is already decided” (The Event, §152).

To illustrate this, think of the biggest manufacturing and extracting corporations in the world. At the head of each of these are ordinary people, smart and ambitious, who are looking to maximize profits and increase efficiency any way possible, yet one must Unknown-1 question, Do they really know what they are doing? As they sit in their offices, creating blueprints, detailing the operations to take place, directing employees to new locations for exploration, are they aware of the destruction they are causing? Have they themselves been to the mountains they are soon to desecrate? Unlikely. Heidegger knew that, as technology increased in power, and as calculation and ordering dominated everyday life, all of these things would be more anonymous and detached. Important, vital decisions are made all the way across the world by executives and government organizations due to a globalized world. At this point, the world becomes a stored-up resource; Nature is “on-demand”:

The revealing that rules in modern technology is a challenging [Herausfordern], which puts to nature the unreasonable demand that it supply energy which can be extracted and stored as such… Agriculture is now the mechanized food industry. Air is now set upon to yield nitrogen, the earth to yield ore, ore to yield uranium, for example; uranium is set up to yield atomic energy, which can be unleashed either for destructive or for peaceful purposes (Basic Writings, 320).

The key concept here is that of “challenging.” Modernity is defined by an antagonistic, confrontational, and aggressive outlook on Being, which is a far cry from the Ancient Greek world. In 1956, M. King Hubbert theorized about a condition called “peak oil,” which would occur when, having discovered all oil reserves, we have maxed out all Unknown efficiency in extracting it; after that point, extraction would decrease due to a decrease in oil availability until we ran out completely. Originally, he predicted that we would hit peak oil in 2000. This has not happened. Instead, predictions now point to a decade from now, or maybe even 2040. Hubbert’s inaccuracy was due, simply, to a lack of foresight. It was thought then that we had the most advanced technology, so it was only a matter of time. Yet advanced technologies—both for detecting oil and extracting it—keep coming out. What Hubbert did not know was that there is still quite a bit of oil left; we just have to find it. But what the global scramble for oil shows is the technological revelation of Nature through challenging. We are constantly challenging our expectations, and challenging Nature, by upping the ante, increasing efficiency to levels never thought of before.

The U.S., it goes without saying, is notorious in this respect: We were not blessed with rich oil deposits here (at least, not conventional oil; we actually have the largest reserves of oil shale, which are rocks containing oil, but it is expensive to refine it, making it an Unknown-2 unlikely source), so ever since the Second World War, we have been on a crusade for foreign oil. The Energy Crisis of the late ‘70s highlighted the danger in this project. When OPEC placed its embargo on the U.S., driving up gasoline prices, halting the economy, we got our wake up call that we would have to reduce dependence on foreign imports. This, in turn, led to careless disasters like the destructive Exxon Valdez spill of 1989 and BP Horizon in 2010. Furthermore, this desperation has driven us to numerous entanglements in the Middle East since the early ‘90s, starting with the Gulf War in Iraq and Kuwait. Needless to say, everything is about maximizing efficiency. Get the most amount of oil. Get the most coal. Get the most wood. Etc. The value of the Earth is now inseparable from exchange-value, which is calculated to meet certain goals of output. Resources are mastered extrinsically; behind every machination there is an “in-order-to…”.

Works by Martin Heidegger used:
Contributions to Philosophy (2012)
Poetry, Language, Thought (1975)
Discourse on Thinking (1969)
Basic Writings (2008)
The Event (2013)

The Making of a Movement (Part 4 of 4)

June 19, 2020June 18, 2020 / Charles Atkins / Leave a comment

Read part 1!

Today

Goals & Leadership

While some were content with these reforms, others thought this, too, was not far enough. Some began to advocate for the defunding of or even wholesale abolition or dismantling of police departments. The reasoning behind this is that reforming police departments requires spending more on police departments. Recently, numerous investigations into city budgets have revealed excessive expenditures on police forces; thus, some argue, the better approach would be to spend less, not more, money on these departments, instead putting those funds to better uses, like social welfare or infrastructure that would fix the very need for police in the first place! Many, however, find this approach too radical. Abolishing or even defunding the police, they argue, will lead to chaos and anarchy. Therefore, the debate rages on.

Highlighting this diversity of voices and approaches is not meant as a criticism, but as a celebration: Sure, there is division between activists, but at least there is debate and conversation. The real problem is when there is no more talking, when everyone becomes silent. But so long as we remain in dialogue, debating the best approach, weighing every merit, and as long as we do not become so divided, as King and Carmichael in the ‘60s were, that we fall apart completely, no longer on speaking terms, we will be able to achieve success, I think. Collaboration, above all else. Work with the information as it comes in. Evolve. Adapt. Communicate.

Another interesting aspect of today’s movement is the question of leadership. Unlike in the ‘50s and ‘60s, where there were clear leaders, today there is no single ringleader, no one crowned individual whose word we follow. This movement is unique because it is organized bottom-up, rather than top-down, the way King ran the SCLC. To be sure, many of the protests are organized by either an individual or a group, but they remain decentralized and local; nobody is “in charge” of where everyone goes or what everyone does; everyone has an equal say, in part due to social media. Anyone can get involved. There is BLM and NAACP, of course, and they help out, but it is not as if they had a monopoly on the action.

Furthermore, many on Twitter have reminded others not to post photos of protest leaders lest they be targeted. Just as popular leaders like King, Malcolm X, and Freddy Hampton were assassinated, so some even today, in 2020, or even in 2014, during the Ferguson Riots, are targeted with either arrest or murder.

In short, we see how the community has come together, and how, through social media, we all, as a collective, communicate, collaborate, and debate, which has kept the movement alive and growing.

President

The president, doubtless, plays a key role. Eisenhower was largely silent on civil rights, Kennedy late, and Johnson pretty useful, though he had his shortcomings. President Trump, unfortunately, unlike Eisenhower, who at least did something helpful in 1957 and 1960, has done nothing but make matters worse. Here we have a president who does not care for his people, who values law and order above all else, and who is so self-absorbed that he cannot see outside himself. Rather than address the root cause of the current unrest, by doing something about police brutality, for example, Trump has decided to encourage more violence and address the symptoms of the disease. “Oh, a black man was murdered, and there are now protests—hm, something has to be done about the protests, clearly”—how this makes sense, I do not know. How this exemplifies leadership, I know not. Strangely, Trump, for someone so self-centered, does not even care for his self-image. Even Eisenhower worried about his image.

During the ‘50s, because the U.S. was engaged with the U.S.S.R. in the Cold War, Eisenhower was careful to see how he and the country were perceived. The Soviet Union created propaganda calling out the U.S.’s hypocrisy: As a nation so committed to democracy and upholding freedom, how could it allow the unequal, ghastly treatment of African-Americans? This, in part, is what motivated Eisenhower to act on behalf of African-Americans, in addition to his concern for federal power. In contrast, Trump has no such qualms. The Black Lives Matter protests are not just national—they are international. Protests in Britain, Germany, Australia, and more have shown that there is global support for justice in America, yet Trump has not budged at all; he remains adamant in criticizing the movement. What are we to make of a leader who not only ignores the voices of his people, but actively suppresses them?

Take the notorious Lafayette Square farce: Trump, wanting a photo-op at St. John’s Church, where he would pose with a Bible, and nothing more, ordered that all peaceful protestors in the surrounding Washington, D.C. area be forced out, authorizing the national guard and local police to use tear gas, rubber bullets, riot shields, and batons against the harmless protesters, in clear violation of the First Amendment—and for what? It was a gross display of power, criticized by many, including military officers. An old Defense Secretary, James Mattis, went so far as to call Trump a threat to the Constitution. Later, helicopters hovered above protesters, drowning them out, advertising their power as a deterrent.

Police brutality in general has been allowed to flourish under Trump, who has encouraged a tough crackdown on protesters, his own people, mind you. Using violent, threatening discourse, with words and phrases like, “dominate the streets,” “law and order,” “force,” “power,” the threat of sending in the military, and more, Trump has set a precedent in which the abuse of power and the monopoly on legitimate force has become overreaching and utterly reprehensible, not at all characteristic of a democracy, but rather an authoritarian, martial state. The reckless use of tear gas, banned for use after World War I, and a violation of rights; rubber bullets, which have the ability to seriously injure and maim; batons; as well as the targeting of medical stations by police is evidence enough of this. It is reminiscent of the 1968 Democratic Convention.

Recently, a video has shown police officers assaulting an Australian camera crew. An assault on the press? How democratic! The pushing of a 75-year-old man who proceeded to hit his head on the pavement and bleed by police officers? This, Trump explained, was a plot by ANTIFA! Everywhere, the immoral advocacy for lawlessness and immorality.

Ideology

Ideology is still a problem today. As one quote going around puts it, “Why is ending racism a debate?” Sadly, the attitudes of many from the ‘50s and before have not changed. Some are blatantly racist, while others, understanding the anger, merely object to the way activists have been responding to societal problems. But as many have pointed out, the main focus should be on the issue itself: Instead of condemning looters for example, whom nobody is defending, and saying that they represent everyone else, which detracts from the main issue at hand, namely the mistreatment of black people not just by police, but by other institutions, too, like housing, education, and voter suppression, along with others, we should be focusing on how to fix these things.

For the most part, everyone who is going out to protest is doing so because they want to address these issues by pressuring their local politicians. Fortunately, because we have moved a little toward equality, that is, because society is now more integrated, the make-up of the current movement is very diverse and strong: young and old, white, African-American, Asian-American, Latinx, etc., cis and trans, straight and LGBTQ+, etc. Here and now, we are seeing diverse people put aside their identities in order to work toward a better society for Black Americans. We saw that, during the CRM, activists received criticism from white supremacists and racists who wanted to keep segregation.

Today, although the circumstances have changed, the political climate is pretty much the same. A quote from a textbook describing the politics of the CRM might as well describe the politics of 2020:

Conservatives insisted that favorable media coverage of activism encouraged conflict and violence and that only a renewed commitment to law and order would ease social tensions. Movement activists who looked to Dr. King replied that racism, lack of opportunity, and inadequate government remedies produced frustration that spawned violence. Other more militant voices within the broad movement of movements argued that governments could not be relied upon to address race-related issues effectively and that aggrieved groups need to mobilize themselves (Liberty, Equality, Power, p. 813).

The debate between conservatism and liberalism, broadly speaking, can be exemplified through the difference between, say, Nixon, who campaigned in 1968 on the promise of law and order, much like Trump is championing right now, and Lyndon B. Johnson, who actually responded to the festering ills of society. After the Watts Riot of 1965 and the various riots of 1967, Johnson requested an investigation into their causes, resulting in the McCone (1965) and Kerner (1968) Commissions, both of which came to similar conclusions: Violence and rioting occurred not as a result of aggressive, uncontrolled, and irresponsible blacks, as some conservatives and the general populace held, but as a result of long-standing structural inequality, like high incarceration rates, broken families, lack of education, lack of housing, and unemployment, and as a result of a heavy police presence, which led to high tension that could burst at any moment, the police themselves most often being the catalyst thereof.

Quite simply and definitively, the Kerner Commission concluded that racism was the main cause of the riots. Whereas conservatives like Trump want to “solve” racism by investing more in law enforcement and militarizing police, or by cracking down more on African-Americans, liberals/progressives want to demilitarize the police and put more emphasis on investing in communities to repair them, that is, by ensuring quality education and healthcare, by reducing unnecessary and small arrests, and by focusing on healing rather than dividing communities. For instance, after the Watts Riot, one person decided to create the Watts Writers Workshop, where black youths would learn to write about their experiences through poetry and other media—a better, more wholesome solution, I think, than putting in more police.

And just as conservatives back in the CRM were worried about the Black Power movement, conservatives today tend to put the spotlight on violent protesters and looters, even though both are irrelevant to the main problem. But, as one textbook comments, “Although widely publicized and highly visible, the black power movement never attracted more than a small minority of African Americans,” only about 15% (America: A Narrative History, 1024). Likewise, looters and violent protesters make up a minority in the Black Lives Matter movement.

Conclusion

As we have seen, the struggle against racism and for equality is far from over. Despite the comforting illusion that we are living in a post-racist society, there is still a lot we can and must change about our country, in continuation of the legacy left to us by the amazingly courageous individuals who fought over the centuries to uphold the belief images that “all men (and women) are created equal.” The Civil Rights Movement succeeded in getting legislation passed that brought attention to and alleviated some of African-Americans’ plights, but it also encountered a number of obstacles, both external and internal: unwilling presidents, police brutality, white supremacy, group disagreement, radicalization, and more. History is best understood in retrospect. Thus, even though the death of George Floyd seems like an isolated incident, it is really a part of a long series of events, connecting to Breonna Taylor, connecting back to 2016, with the death of Philando Castile, back to 2014, with the deaths of Eric Garner and Michael Brown, and so many more. We are tempted to think of the Civil Rights Movement as a continuous movement, when, in reality, it was much like what we experience today: A discontinuous line, but a line nonetheless. Those who fought for civil rights from 1954-68 were in it for the long run, so the question becomes: Are we?

Works used:
1968: The Year that Rocked the World by Mark Kurlansky (2003)
A People & a Nation Vol. 2 8th ed. by Mary Beth Norton (2008)
America: A Narrative History 8th ed. by George Tindall (2010)
Liberty, Equality, Power 6th ed. by John. M. Murrin (2012)
American Dreams by H.W. Brands (2010)

The Making of a Movement (Part 3 of 4)

June 15, 2020June 14, 2020 / Charles Atkins / Leave a comment

Click here to read part 1.
Click here to read part 2.

Obstacles

Ideology

And, of course, another ideological struggle came in the form of white supremacy, the very antithesis to the CRM. Several times, whites, especially southerners, though also northerners, vigorously opposed progress and the acquisition of civil rights by African-Americans—that is, after all, the very thing for which they stood, their very essence of being. In 1956, for instance, after Brown v. Board was in play, senators crafted the “Southern Manifesto,” a document outlining their contempt for the Supreme Court’s decision, which they claimed was an abuse of judicial power. They claimed that it would escalate tensions between whites and blacks, who, prior to the integration of public schools, were, according to them, doing just fine together!

When the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed, commentators roared and clamored against Johnson, decrying his administration’s overreach, its baseless extension of federal power.

Now, understandably, this raises an issue. We all have the right to express our opinions and views, even if they are racist or discriminatory. Looking back, we can say now that many of the southerners who resisted civil rights legislation were morally wrong by our standards; they refused to accept change when it was necessary, refused to give up their bigotry and see African-Americans as their equals. But one can imagine, and try to feel, the immense dejection, fear, frustration, and defeat felt by blacks who, in attempting to get an education, a house, or a vote for themselves, in attempting to earn a place in a country from which for so long they had been alienated, and in attempting to earn their freedom, had to face daily the threats and put-downs and disparagements of whites who denied them those things, denied them the very right to those things—imagine fighting for what one knows to be right, but only to hear, every step of the way, that one is wrong, and that the thing for which one is fighting is itself wrong.

It is true we each have the right to voice our opinions, no matter how immoral they may be, but the fact is that this very opposition can undermine the courage to do what is right; it is demoralizing, demotivating, depressing, it makes one doubt one’s efforts, it makes one question whether what one is doing is the right thing—and though, doubtless, they did doubt themselves, they fought on.

Today

Media

During the Civil Rights Movement, one of the greatest tools was the media. King managed to use the media to his advantage; without the use of radio or television, it is unlikely the Movement, even under the leadership of King and others, would have succeeded. By ensuring the presence of cameras at each of his campaigns, King got Americans to witness the brutality African-Americans faced in the nation. The footage at Birmingham and Selma, for example, in highlighting the police’s excessive, unprovoked violence, showed that things were far from normal, that things needed to be changed.

Likewise, we today, in the 21st-century, when practically everyone has a mobile phone, are always getting footage. Whenever something happens, good or bad, we can pull out our phones, hit “record,” then upload it to social media, where it will be seen by hundreds, thousands, even millions! As many have pointed out, we are fortunate to have captured George Floyd’s and other’s, like Rodney King’s in 1992, incidents—just think of the countless others whose lives were tragically lost, and whose killers, because they were never captured, remain free. We are lucky, even, that Emmett Till’s mother displayed his body for the press when he died in 1955; it is not like someone could have photographed his body and exposed the atrocity on Twitter.

But at the same time, the media is a double-edged sword: Helpful as it is in documenting current events, it can also serve to our disadvantage. King, of course, wanted camera crews to emphasize the violence directed toward blacks, but later on, especially in ‘66, as Black Power entered onto the scene, it became difficult to control what cameras saw and heard, at the risk of negative messages being spread, like the encouragement by some activists to use violence against whites, which obviously hurt the Movement, making it appear retaliatory, impulsive, and dangerous, turning would-be supporters away. Accordingly, the media could be turned against the CRM by helping to inflame whites and blacks alike.

Media, we know, is in itself neutral; it is how it is used that colors its message. Bias, then, becomes a large problem: Are people “protesters,” “rioters,” “looters,” or “thugs”? Are protestors inciting violence? Is there suddenly anarchy? The problem has to do with accountability. When a network like CNN or Fox claims that protesters are descending into chaos, starting riots, looting businesses, and they are taken at their word, without any sort of corroboration, then there are blatant problems. Thus, another important factor comes into play: What type of media? In today’s case, it is a battle between cable news—CNN, Fox, MSNBC, ABC, etc.—and social media—Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. The former is usually seen as more reliable by people, and so will take whatever is said at face value. However, whether or not there is some vested interest they have, these networks are not always reliable.

For example, during the Minneapolis riots, many of the networks were criticizing protestors, blaming them for the police-protester violence and the burning and looting of businesses. However, it took the gathering of voices on Twitter, where actual members of the protest could speak from their own experience, to get the story right: It was the police who had escalated the violent confrontations, the looters, in most cases, were not actually protesters, but mostly out-of-state opportunists and, in some cases, white supremacists looking to besmirch the Black Lives Matter movement. Some threads on Twitter even identified a possible police provocateur, an agent sent specifically to rile people up, vandalizing and burning, in order to get others to follow. It is a problem when the main source of news can no longer be trusted. The concentration of media power is notorious, and so it is usually in a network’s best interest to present a certain narrative; this corporate irresponsibility has degraded the democratic process, and it has taken the intervention of the people, the masses, those on the front lines, to deliver the truth.

Through Twitter, where people can post instantaneously, updating followers without any mediation, important and vital information is being exchanged. Recordings of police brutality, of white supremacist violence, and more, is constantly being uploaded; this way, we hold those responsible accountable. The near-constant updating of what is happening at a local protest, for example, is essential in disabusing false narratives. These threads, where people can collaborate, plan, and communicate, allows for faster and reliable sourcing. The media, in the hands of the people, is a powerful tool for mobilization.

Goals & Self-correction

What I find most incredible about the 2020 protests is the ability of participants to always be engaged in discussion, in dialogue, keeping the discourse going, criticizing when necessary, correcting whatever is wrong, always staying on track, careful never to deviate. The path to where we are now, like in the Civil Rights Movement, has been neither smooth nor straight but, on the contrary, rough and crooked.

As I mentioned above, this is most evident in the activity regarding media. At one point, photos, videos, and articles about cops joining protesters, putting down their weapons, or voicing their support began emerging all over Twitter, and many found this to be a move in a positive direction. Finally, we said, the police are beginning to shape up! But soon after, this was revealed to be a façade, the contrivance of “copaganda”—as it is called—cop propaganda, false displays of solidarity which proved to be superficial: In many of these cases, after these photo-ops were posted, the police resumed their activities, presently gassing protesters, arresting them, and shooting rubber bullets, after having pacified their victims. The wolf had clothed itself in sheep’s clothing. Critical observers were able to identify this ploy and spread the word, warning all social media users to be wary of these types of posts.

Another indication of this movement’s self-regulation has been its shifting goals. “Justice for Floyd” meant successfully charging Derek Chauvin, the officer who knelt on George Floyd’s neck, and killed him, as well as the officers who stood by without intervening.

With good intentions, people began spreading “#blackouttuesday,” which informed social media users to post a black square on their accounts as a way of signaling their support for Black Lives Matter. Nearly everyone—whether because they genuinely supported the movement or because they felt pressured after seeing their friends do it—complied, posting a black square, usually with “#blm” or “#blacklivesmatter”—but it soon became apparent that, in doing so, we had been clogging up the system, preventing important information from being filtered through; as such, supporters were quick to spread the word: Change all mentions of Black Lives Matter to “#blackouttuesday” so that important information could be conveyed. Again, everyone complied.

All was well… until word spread once more, this time in denunciation of the entire trend: Black Out Tuesday not only was an instance of performative activism, the supporting of a movement in order to appear good to and win the approval of others, but it also silenced the movement. It had not occurred to many that, by filling up social media with black squares, and by not posting for the rest of the day, they were letting the movement die right in front them. After all, should we not remain vocal, rather than silent? So, very quickly, we set about deleting our black squares and reviving the conversation, keeping the flame aglow.

What I wanted to show through this example is that, even though we became divided, even though we encountered issues, we kept going, we worked to keep each other informed. It is true that many posted just to save face and because it was low effort, but it is not as if we did it to intentionally hurt the movement; we did it because, at the time, for the information we had at the time, it appeared to be the best move. But when we learned that it was not, that we were sabotaging ourselves, we quickly corrected ourselves.

This is the key: Being able to adapt quickly to new information, being able to listen to criticism and then act accordingly.

The original goal was to convict Chauvin and the other officers. First, we got third degree murder. But this was not enough, it did not answer for Floyd’s death. So then it got bumped up to second degree due to public pressure. A victory! Some believed this was not far enough, that first degree was warranted since it is possible Chauvin was racially motivated; however, Twitter users, consulting legal aid, explained that this was not the way to go, for it is incredibly difficult to prove intent. If we were to push for first degree, then Chauvin would most likely walk free; thus, it is in our best interest to stick with second degree.

Having secured this, and not wanting the movement to end here, we decided to push further: Let us prevent this from happening elsewhere in the country by addressing police corruption and brutality. A specific strategy, “8 Can’t Wait,” arose: Reform police by implementing the following:

Ban chokeholds/strangleholds
Require de-escalation
Require warning before shooting
Requires exhaust all alternatives before shooting
Duty to intervene
Ban shooting at moving vehicles
Require use of force continuum
Require comprehensive reporting

These policies were greeted warmly, until another, “Campaign Zero,” came to compete against it:

End broken windows policing
Community oversight
Limit use of force
Independently investigate and prosecute
Community representation
Body cams/record the police
Training
End for-profit policing
Demilitarization
Fair police union contracts

The Making of a Movement (Part 2 of 4)

June 12, 2020June 12, 2020 / Charles Atkins / 1 Comment

Click here to read part 1.

Obstacles

Presidents

One of the greatest helps to the Civil Rights Movement was also one of its greatest troubles: The President of the United States. When the CRM began in the 1950s, Dwight D. Eisenhower was president. A Republican from the South, he was fairly racist and unsupportive of African-Americans. Despite this, he was useful to the Movement on more than one occasion.
In 1957, after the Brown decisions, the governor of Arkansas, Orvil Faubus, denied entry to the “Little Rock Nine,” a group of nine students supposed to attend a local high school. Backed by the national guard, he and large crowds of white protestors blocked off access. Eisenhower would not put up with this defiance, so he took command of the national guard and also sent in paratroopers to reprimand Faubus as well as to provide protection to the students for the rest of the school year. A bitter Faubus decided to close all schools the next year. While we can and should praise Eisenhower for his actions on behalf of the Little Rock Nine, it is important to note that he did not do it for their or any African-American’s sake: The reason he got involved was not because he believed in civil rights, but because he saw Faubus’ actions as a threat to the constitutional and judicial order; he wanted to defend the federal government’s power.
Additionally, that same year, he passed the Civil Rights Act of 1957, then, three years later, the Voting Rights Act of 1960. Why are these rarely mentioned? Because they did not change much—if anything; they might as well have existed just in name.
Americans tend to look back fondly on John F. Kennedy, lamenting his premature death. A youthful, enthusiastic president, he declared his approach the “New Frontier,” appealing to those who were excited for change. While campaigning, he voiced his support for King and the civil rights activists. However, he did nothing substantial about the CRM for three years. I say “substantial” because he, like Eisenhower, did help a couple times, but not so as to effect any change, and he always acted through his brother, Robert.
During the “Freedom Ride” in 1961, when bus riders were being violently attacked, Kennedy sent officers to protect them; in exchange, though, to keep the southerners happy, he allowed the black protestors to be arrested and beaten in jail. Similarly, he protected James Meredith when the latter entered the University of Mississippi, spoke out against police action in Birmingham, and proposed what would become the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Unfortunately, the bulk of his civil rights agenda, which might have redeemed his inaction, was curtailed by his untimely death. King criticized Kennedy for paying lip service to the Movement; Kennedy’s actions were too little and too late.

Leadership Targeting

Another setback was the targeting of leaders and activists. Many of the key leaders of the Movement were either attacked or killed. Martin Luther King, Jr., for example, was beaten and arrested on pretty much every campaign; he received death threats, even finding a bomb at his house after the Montgomery bus boycott; most infamously, he was spied on and followed by the FBI for most of his career as a part of an illegal surveillance program, COINTELPRO, for the purpose of identifying potential threats to the American order, suspected by J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the agency, of being a communist, as a result of which he received a blackmail letter telling him to kill himself; and, of course, he was assassinated by James Earl Jones in 1968.
James Meredith, on his “March Against Fear,” was shot by a white man with a sniper.
An FBI raid on Fred Hampton, a Black Panther, in 1969 led to the latter’s violent execution despite his being asleep.
Malcolm X, who first advocated for Black Power, but then dialed back his rhetoric, was assassinated in 1965 by members of the Nation of Islam, a radical organization to which he formerly belonged.

Law Enforcement

The most formidable obstacle to the CRM was, of course, law enforcement. The police, as activists are apt to remind us today, originated as private militias created to catch fugitive slaves in the 1800s, and these racist, white supremacist roots would persist, not just during the ‘50s and ‘60s, but even to this day. As such, the police, as “upholders of the law,” even if that law, under Jim Crow, discriminated against African-Americans, saw black activists as threats. Anyone who tried to upset the status quo, like King or Malcolm X—the latter more understandably—threatened, by extension, to upset the “order.” Thus, we see how, during the CRM, the police were complicit in much of the injustice, rather than justice, toward blacks. Sheriffs and officers not only enforced segregation laws but also partook in lynchings.
As an example, in 1964, three activists in Missouri, two of them white, one black, James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwermer, while working to register black voters, were found dead and, after an investigation was done, it was discovered, unsurprisingly, that the Ku Klux Klan had done it—but, more surprisingly, it was discovered that the KKK was aided by the local sheriff and police department. Another piece of evidence is the fact that police arrested thousands upon thousands of protestors, both black and white, during the Movement. To be fair, these protestors were technically breaking the law by defying segregation policies; however, as King famously pointed out, an unjust law is no law at all. By arresting activists, by silencing voices, by spreading terror, and by depriving people of their right to protest, the police proved to be on the wrong side of the Law and Justice, the very Law and Justice to which they pledged themselves in service. A few concrete examples should suffice.
One of the moments of the CRM that is virtually ignored in every textbook and U.S. history class, as far as I can tell, and which receives little mention anywhere, is the little-known Albany Movement of 1961-2. While researching, I came across this glossed-over event in King’s mission: Just as he would attempt to do in Birmingham and Selma in the coming years, King went to Albany, Georgia, so that he could direct Americans’ attention to what discrimination and racism actually looked like. And the reason the Albany Campaign is rarely mentioned—is because it failed, and King left disheartened. The Chief of Police in Albany was Laurie Pritchett. He had seen some of King’s work from the ‘50s and, like a good student, studying his enemy’s ways, he adopted the latter’s method of nonviolence, which he would use against him, fighting fire with fire—or, more aptly, water against water. When King and his fellow marchers arrived, Pritchett quietly arrested them, sent them to jail, and personally let King out of jail to prevent his arrest from being covered by the news. Pritchett had taught his officers, just as James Lawson had taught those who sat in at the Woolworths, not to engage in violence, even if they were insulted, assaulted, or provoked. Thus, King failed to arouse any anger or outrage against the police; there was simply nothing worthy of condemnation, like police brutality.
While Pritchett and his department should be applauded for their calm, level-headedness and resilience, their ability to stay cool and not be violent toward the protestors, the bottom line is this: Just because they “did” the right thing—remaining peaceful—did not mean they did the Right thing. After these events, Pritchett stated he was politically neutral: He was neither progressive nor conservative. So why had he jailed King and the others? Because he was “doing his job,” because he was “defending the law”—but so were the Nazis during the Holocaust. “Silence is complicity,” the phrase goes. Pritchett’s defense is no good defense; his actions, I think it is fair to say, were not ethical, for while the means were just, the end was not. In being complicit to segregation, he was just as guilty as any other white supremacist. However, Pritchett’s nonviolence was the exception, not the norm.
At Birmingham, King met Eugene “Bull” Connor, the Chief of Police, who, unlike Pritchett, as can be guessed by his epithet, “Bull,” was not peaceful. Connor authorized the use of electric cattle prods, batons, attack dogs, and high-pressure water cannons against protestors. Most shockingly, toward the end of the campaign, as morale was dwindling, the activists unleashed their final plan, in which they sent out younger protestors, from as young as six-years-old to high schoolers, in the “Child’s Crusade,” all of whom were met with the same relentless, merciless force by Connor and his men. When the vast amount of adults and youths being arrested and viciously beaten was captured on national television, the police department came under fierce criticism and moral indignation.
Similarly, the events in Selma came to be known as “Blood Sunday” because the peaceful, unarmed protestors who, mind you, were doing nothing but marching, were suddenly set upon by the police, who, like at Birmingham, were armed with batons, tear gas, and electric cattle prods.
Finally, another instance of police brutality against protestors occurred in 1968 at the Democratic Convention. Although this event was not related to the Civil Rights Movement, I would like to briefly touch upon it to demonstrate that police brutality is nothing new. During the convention, which was held in Chicago—one activist, Mark Kurlansky notes, came to call it “Czechago,” in reference to Soviet-occupied Czcheslovokia—protestors taunted outside patrolling police officers, shouting “Pigs!” at them, after which several violent brawls took place. Initially, the media and many commentators blamed the violence on the protestors since they instigated the conflict. However, a follow-up commission actually revealed that it was the police who really began the physical confrontation, and who were to blame for the ensuing chaos: Many of them took off and hid their badges so they could not be identified, using this anonymity to take protestors by surprising, beating them with their batons, spraying them with pepper spray, and dousing them in tear gas. Earlier, the mayor of Chicago had given officers shoot-to-kill directions. Police officers also targeted reporters and smashed cameras to prevent coverage of the events.

Ideology

One other hurdle that stood against and ultimately divided the CRM was ideology. Most notably, there were inner disagreements within the Movement that led to its splintering and, from there, to its dissolution. First of all, there was the question of methodology: How do we best achieve equality for African-Americans? On the one hand, there was King, who called for non-violence. On the other, there were people like Carmichael, the Black Panthers, and Malcolm X, who blamed King’s method for slowing down progress, preventing substantial change, and emphasizing harmony over tension. King argued that nonviolence painted those who resorted to violence as even worse oppressors, as inhumane and immoral; by sticking with nonviolence, blacks could win the sympathy of whites. Otherwise, if blacks used aggressive tactics, they would only be feeding a negative stereotype of themselves. Yet there was also the matter of speed and efficiency. King, despite achieving a lot of legislation, did not change the fact of discrimination; it still existed, so clearly something more serious, more urgent, and more drastic had to be done. And how best to demand something than by force? This was the argument of King’s detractors.
Yet another question was: Should the CRM include whites? On this point, King said that whites were essential to the Movement, as it could use all the help it could get, notwithstanding the fact that the worst perpetrators of the status quo were the so-called white liberals. Yet, at the same time, people like Carmichael could not help but see whites as absolute, unconditional enemies; it was the whites, after all, who had subjugated and kept the black population down all this time. Why befriend them? Why tempt the savage lion? This interpretation, known as black nationalism, held that, in the spirit of Jim Crow, blacks and whites ought to remain separate for good—but also equal. The interesting thing about this, though, is that there was quite a lot of nuance: Carmichael was initially on King’s side in his early days, but changed his mind toward the inclusion of whites while the head of the SNCC, while Malcolm X, who was known for his antagonism against whites, toward the end of his life actually became more of an integrationist, calling for reconciliation between the two races, before assassins took his life.

The Making of a Movement (Part 1 of 4)

June 8, 2020June 12, 2020 / Charles Atkins / 5 Comments

Unknown Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Civil Rights Movement ended racism in the 1960s, right? Sadly, no. While the Civil Rights Movement was successful in ending legal segregation in the South, defending the right to vote, and targeting discrimination all around, it did not change the fact that, as a country, America is built on a power system which works against African-Americans. It is true that in the 21st-century, we are living in a post-Jim Crow era, but just because our society is more tolerant, diverse, and integrated than it was before, does not mean that the system has been fixed; on the contrary, modern racism still exists, just in subtler, less explicit forms, most notably in the way it pervades our institutions—the legal system, housing, healthcare, education, and more. In 2020, we are seeing something happening that may well be compared to the Civil Rights Movement from over half a century ago: Responding to a series of murders of black citizens by white police officers, enlivened under the banner of “Black Lives Matter,” our country is once more engaged in the struggle for equality for African-Americans. By looking back at the original Civil Rights Movement, from 1954-1968, we can see what made the movement succeed, what made it fail, and how it relates to this momentous point in our history.

Goals

1954:

The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), working through the lawyer Thurgood Marshall, had been working for years to undermine the legal status of segregation through small cases until Earl Warren was appointed to the Supreme Court as Chief Justice. In the famous Brown v. Board case, the entirety of the Supreme Court agreed that segregation in public schools, because it led to unequal performance in students, was unconstitutional.

1955:

A follow up to the Brown case ordered that the process of desegregation proceed “with all deliberate speed,” a notoriously vague phrase that meant Southern schools could take all the time they wanted—in some cases decades—in order to integrate black students.
Meanwhile, in Missouri, a 14-year-old African-American boy, Emmett Till, who, according to witnesses, purportedly whistled at a white woman, was brutally beaten and killed by a group of white men, all of whom were declared innocent by an all-white jury, despite their confession years later. His maimed body was displayed for reporters, whose photos and articles provoked outrage and disgust among Americans, white and black.
That same year, Rosa Parks sat in the front of a bus in Montgomery, Alabama, a seemingly harmless act—only, the law stated that blacks had to sit in the back of the bus—so she was arrested. In solidarity, as a revolt against the segregated bus system, the African-American community, led by Martin Luther King, Jr., a Baptist minister, refused to use the buses.

1956:

As a result of the Montgomery bus boycott, the city, deprived of a large source of its income, gave in, and the Supreme Court demanded that the buses be desegregated, which they were. As one textbook writes, “Events in Montgomery suggested that black activists, even in the segregated South, could effectively mobilize—and then organize—community resources to fight racial discrimination” (Murrin, Liberty, Equality, Power, p. 789). In other words, this marked the point when the movement, as a movement, truly began, when African-Americans realized they could achieve freedom and equality if they worked together.

1957:

Martin Luther King, Jr., after having led the successful bus boycott, formed the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), an organization dedicated to fighting injustice in the South, and which would be responsible for starting up other campaigns.

1960-1961:

Early in the year, four black college students sat at a lunch counter at a Woolworth store, where they tried to order but were turned down. As time went by, they got more supporters, occupied more stores, and, under the guidance of James Lawson, who studied Gandhi’s practice of nonviolent protest, resisted the anger of whites who could not believe what was happening. This pattern spread through the South, to other cities and states, even, leading to the eventual desegregation of the Woolworth chain.
The success of the student sit-ins inspired the creation of another organization similar in purpose to King’s SCLC: The Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC).
Riding on this wave, the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), an older organization, announced the “Freedom Ride,” a trip from Washingon, D.C. to New Orleans, all by way of bus, in order to test how reliable desegregation was.
As this was happening, the “Mississippi Project” was being carried out by organizers Ella Baker and Bob Moses, who were helping to register African-Americans to vote.

1963:

King’s and the SCLC’s next move was to gain the sympathy of whites, so they planned the Birmingham Campaign in Alabama. Much like Gandhi in India, King believed in civil disobedience, the refusal to follow a society’s unjust laws, as laid out by Transcendentalist philosopher Henry David Thoreau, and thought the best way to defeat racism was through what he called, oxymoronically, “militant nonviolence.”
After successfully exposing the violent reception of his followers by the police in Birmingham, King decided to switch his focus from educating the rest of America on the problem of racism to actually addressing it through legislation, something made easier by the fact that the president, John F. Kennedy, horrified by what happened in Alabama, sided with the civil rights activists, promising them a bill that would ensure certain rights, and he demonstrated his good faith by opposing George Wallace, the racist governor of Alabama. Just after the announcement of the civil rights bill, one activist, Medgar Evers, was assassinated in his driveway.
Later in the year, to hasten the passage of the bill, Bayard Rustin, A. Philip Randolph, and John Lewis held the “March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom” rally, a gathering at Washington, D.C. that brought together nearly 250,000 people, white and black, where King, the final speaker, delivered his eloquent “Dream” speech. Unfortunately, it seemed freedom and equality would remain merely a dream, for shortly after, a bomb blew up a church, killing four African-American girls—and JFK was assassinated.

1964:

Succeeding JFK, President Lyndon B. Johnson stayed true to his predecessor’s late commitment to the Civil Rights Movement by passing the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibited segregation in public places and provided support for blacks seeking jobs, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) created the year after. While the Act called for the enforcement of these principles, it was ultimately pretty ineffective, as any intervention required that a “demonstrated intention” of racism be displayed, which, as you might predict, was difficult to do. As such, this shortcoming laid the grounds for affirmative action in the late ‘60s, when, to address this fault, a quota system was adopted, an action’s consequences easier to measure than its actor’s intentions.
A riot broke out that year in the Harlem neighborhood of New York City because a black teen was shot by a white police officer.

1965:

King set his heart on achieving enfranchisement, or voting rights, next. Even though blacks could technically vote in the South due to the 14th Amendment, they were more often than not prevented from doing so by tricky technicalities, like state-mandated literacy tests, which disadvantaged blacks since they had either no or lower-quality education compared to whites, or poll taxes, which also disadvantaged blacks, who, on average, were poorer than whites. Thus, King and the SCLC marched on to Selma, Alabama. “Bloody Sunday,” it came to be called: The peaceful protestors were senselessly and violently attacked by the police.
Just as Kennedy was saddened by what happened in Birmingham and pledged his support, so Johnson, seeing what happened in Selma, passed the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which proved more successful than the Act of the previous year, substantially increasing the number of black voters throughout the South.
However, this excitement did not last long because a riot broke out in Watts, a black neighborhood in Los Angeles. An African-American man resisted arrest by white officers, causing a large commotion that lead to a six-day spree of looting, burning, and shooting, leaving thousands injured and just many properties ruined.
An influential radical activist, Malcolm X, was assassinated.

1966:

Realizing nothing more could be done for blacks in America until their economic equality was ensured, King turned his direction northward, to Chicago, where he would pursue employment and housing rights, the latter a problem that had existed since the New Deal in the ‘30s, when the Federal Housing Administration worsened inequality by denying loans to African-Americans, institutionalizing redlining. He would discover that, in fact, the northerners were no more accepting of blacks, nor less violent and resistant, than the southerners; like today, northern racism was not exactly legal, or de jure, but still existent, or de facto, and thus harder to combat.
Seeing King’s failures—Johnson’s legislation proved largely powerless—black activists decided a new approach was needed: Black Power. People like Stokely Carmichael, who headed the SNCC, criticized King publicly, and ousted white supporters from the organization; Bobby Seale and Huey Newton, who founded the Black Panther Party in Oakland, California, seeking both to counter police brutality and to serve the community, guided by their “Ten-Point Program”; and the late Malcolm X, who initially called for an absolute break from whites, and even violence toward them, all advocated for a more violent approach than that of King’s, believing that change needed to be gained by force—or, as Malcolm X put it, it was a matter of “the ballot or the bullet.”
When James Meredith, the first African-American to attend the University of Mississippi, attempted a “March Against Fear” from Tennessee to Mississippi to bring attention to the failure of Johnson’s legislation, but was shot by a white supremacist (who was possibly a Klansman), his effort was taken up by and completed by other leaders, including Carmichael.

1967:

In this one year, a number of riots broke out. How many, exactly? The number is not clear, but it was at least 159, though another source puts it at 167. Two of the most violent occurred in Newark and Detroit, both even more destructive than what happened in Watts two years prior. There was mass, indiscriminate looting and burning, neither white nor black unscathed, and an all-out war ensued between rioters and police, with onlookers comparing it to a battle during the Second World War; tanks rolled through the streets, and snipers—on both sides—wreaked havoc on the city population.

1968:

The Movement thus crescendoed fortississimo as Johnson, troubled by the riots, authorized the Kerner Commission to investigate their causes, which, it concluded, were the heavy police presence and poverty in black neighborhoods, and with King still intent on alleviating the plight of poor blacks.
There was new hope on the horizon: The “Poor People’s Campaign” in Washington, D.C., designed to rival in outcome the previous march that had occurred there five years ago. King stopped at Memphis, Tennessee first, though, to attend to others matters. He was shot and killed. Once more, over a hundred riots broke out, this time in grief and rage, one casualty being Bobby Hutton, a 17-year-old Black Panther who was killed during an altercation with police.
The overwhelming chaos that came after King’s death pushed Johnson to enact the Civil Rights Act of 1968. This included the Fair Housing Act, a nod toward King’s later mission, but it was not wholly effective. One additional clause in the Act, however, made it a crime to “incite riots,” making it problematic.
At the Olympics, two American athletes, a gold and a bronze medalist, raised their fists in the Black Power salute during the award ceremony, causing their ban from the competition.

Works used:
A People & a Nation Vol. 2 8th ed. by Mary Beth Norton (2008)
America: A Narrative History 8th ed. by George Tindall (2010)
Liberty, Equality, Power 6th ed. by John. M. Murrin (2012)
American Dreams by H.W. Brands (2010)

Heidegger and the Anthropocene (2)

June 5, 2020June 20, 2020 / Charles Atkins / 1 Comment

Read the previous part here.

Unknown-7 An invasive species, like Kudzu vine, to name one, when placed into a new environment, will quickly set about establishing itself, adapting to its environmental conditions, then competing with other species for food, quickly and mercilessly eliminating them. As such, Being, for Nietzsche, was identified with this natural impulse to exert energy in order to prosper, even if it is at the expense of others. So in short, the will-to-will, coupled with the development of modern science, led to the Anthropocene, the modern epoch of Being, in which Man is at the center. Put alternatively, the Anthropocene is the era of anthropocentrism—Being exists for man to be dominated. Being becomes the re-presentation of ob-jects by a sub-ject; this means that we humans, as rational subjects, or perceivers, perceive beings, which are turned into objects—things that stand opposed to us, things able to be taken advantage of, to be used—by means of representations, or mental images that strip beings of their significance down to their use-value.

In this epoch of Being, it is clear to see why exploitation has been allowed to dominate. “The global cry for wheat and gasoline,” Heidegger stated, has absolutely nothing to do with a lack of these things (The Event, §111); our mass producing is not a matter of providing food security because, as it is, we have too much food in the world, a fact that Unknown-8 is unfathomable considering how many billions are starving around the world, while, in the U.S., for example, countless millions are simultaneously overweight. What this paradox shows is that our eagerness for more, our uncontrollable push for resources, is not due to a genuine need, but rather is due to our will-to-will; we do it for no other reason than because we can, and so we will (no pun intended). Unnecessary overproduction is symptomatic for our desire for control and mastery over the world. We could feed all those who are starving right now if we distributed what we already have properly, but this we do not do; instead, we keep creating more factories, developing more efficient machines, and slaughtering more innocent animals to feed our insatiable hunger—not for food, though, but power.

Unknown-9 In a frighteningly prescient passage, Heidegger declared, “‘[D]estructions’ are recognized as mere temporary passageways” toward “a complete calculation of the globe in terms of its ‘goods’ and ‘values,’” at which point we will “deliver up the globe, along with its atmosphere, to an explosive charge,” symbolic, he thought, of our “extreme impotence” (The Event, §138). Several key trends are forecasted here. For example, “‘destructions’” as “passageways” that turn the Earth into a storehouse of “‘goods’” is reminiscent of coal mining and deforestation. Coal is one the most widely used nonrenewable sources of energy, and is usually found underground or in mountains, having been compressed over millions of years from decomposed organic matter. In order to get coal, then, we have to set up mines, which can be either above ground, in which case we blow up the tops of mountains and remove the settled overburden, or below ground, where we create strip mines.

Unknown The devastation of mountains in the name of coal is a perfect example, therefore, of what Heidegger is describing in that we justify our destructions as “passageways”—it is okay that we have irreversibly destroyed this landscape because we are getting valuable coal from it!—only, this coal then goes onto release sulfur and CO2 into the air, contributing to the greenhouse effect, which heats up the atmosphere, and also produces acid rain, which can devastate crops and oceanic organisms. This is not to mention that mining itself is dangerous, involving lots of accidents to miners, and the use of chemicals, from explosions and other extraction methods, along with metals can leak into water sources, contaminating them; however, these unintended consequences are played off as “collateral damage”; it is being done in the name of something greater.

Unknown-11 Consequently, the Earth becomes nothing more than a storage of goods and valuables to be extracted by us. Likewise, the practices of deforestation and logging are “temporary passageways” that give us wood. The only problem—besides, of course, the erosion of soil, the loss of habitat for many species, and the loss of photosynthesis, which reduces CO2 in the air by sequestering carbon—is that this is not sustainable, yet we are not very diligent about reforesting. Fortunately, in the past few years, we have been seeing great things done by both individuals and organizations to help restore forests around the world, but we need more than just this.

When Heidegger described this behavior as “extreme impotence,” he meant that the exploitation of the Earth, while giving us the feeling of power, really disempowers us; “man,” he said, “postures as lord of the earth” (Basic Writings, 332)—postures because, in truth, he is a slave to his technological machines and his unstoppable drive for power, Unknown thereby estranging himself from Being and disconnecting himself from the environment of which he is a fundamental part. And it is not as though this degradation of the Earth were just some abstract conception; it is actually measurable: Our ecological footprint is a measure for how much of the Earth’s resources we use up, including land, water, and animal use. It used to be that, decades ago, we were living pretty sustainably, allowing the planet to regenerate its resources naturally. But as our wasteful habits have grown, it is such that, now, in 2020, collectively, we use at least 1.5 Earths to support ourselves—how can that make sense? It means that we would require a whole other half of the Earth to keep up with how much we are using it.

Another thing we can consult is the annual Earth Overshoot Day, a calendrical date calculated every year that tells us when that year’s renewable resources have been used up. That is, if things were alright, all trees would be growing normally by the end of the year; but as things are at the moment, the Overshoot Day for 2020 is July 29, meaning Unknown-2 that, by that day, all the trees that should have grown back, will not have been able to because of overuse. The earlier the date, the more we have overexploited resources. Our neglect of sustainable yield, the ability to use resources responsibility such that they can renew themselves, gives way to overuse, a consequence of what environmentalists call the “Tragedy of the Commons”: It is a fact that, when two or more people need the same thing, there will be competition for that resource, and both parties will try to get as much as possible for themselves without regard to the thing itself. Simply put, the tragedy of commons describes our selfish nature. Resources on Earth are finite, and we have infinite need, so there is obviously a conflict. This reflects the will-to-will insofar as competition and domination are components thereof. We design better machines in the name of “efficiency,” how much and how quickly we can extract resources.

This anthropocentric viewpoint puts us humans above animals and, ultimately, above Nature itself. Through the will-to-power, we are compelled to subjugate Nature, to draw out its vitals for our own benefit, to become more powerful. Nature is reduced to an object, something against which we are fighting, and which we can conquer. Heidegger captured the current state of affairs quite powerfully:

Nature, separated out from beings by the natural sciences—what happens to it through technology? What happens is the destruction of “nature,” a destruction that is ever increasing or, rather, is simply rolling on to its end. What was nature once? It was the site of the moment of the advent and sojourning of the gods; and that was when nature, still φύσις, rested in the essential occurrence of beyng itself.

Subsequently, nature soon became a being and then even the counterpart of “grace” and, after this degradation, was completely set out in the compulsion of calculative machination and economics…

Why is the earth silent at this destruction? Because the earth is not allowed the strife with a world, not allowed the truth of beyng. Why not? Is it because that gigantic thing, the human being, becomes all the smaller the more gigantically grown?

Does nature have to be renounced and abandoned to machination? Can we yet seek the earth anew? Who will kindle that strife in which the earth finds its open realm, secludes itself, and is genuinely the earth? (Contributions, §155)

Unknown-1 This passage is one of the few in which he directly deals with the question of the environment, and is, in my opinion, one of the most thought-provoking and mysterious. Heidegger puts “‘nature’” in quotes because he is wary about reifying the environment—to encompass all natural beings under a single title, “Nature,” is to render it vulnerable to exploitation since the whole is greater than the sum of its parts: “nature soon became a being.” Notice: He contrasts the original conception of nature, φύσις, with today’s conception, which, rather than being “the sojourning of the gods,” is “calculative machination and economics.” The United States has a fascinating relationship to nature and the wildlife, which can explain what he means by “the counterpart of grace.”

Works by Martin Heidegger used:
Contributions to Philosophy (2012)
Poetry, Language, Thought (1975)
Discourse on Thinking (1969)
Basic Writings (2008)
The Event (2013)

The Meaning of 2020

June 1, 2020January 9, 2022 / Charles Atkins / 1 Comment

Unknown “2020 is going to be our year.” The dawn of a new decade. Yet-unfulfilled promises. An open horizon. Murmurings of change. I remember a lot of people being sad to see the ‘10s end because that is when my peers and I experienced most of our youth, with its pop music, the rise of social media, and political surprises; while others, although still a bit reluctant to move forward, were nonetheless excited to move into a new era, to receive what was in store for them, or to perhaps get a sense of what the Jazz Age was like for Fitzgerald a hundred years ago, a time full of prosperity, excitement, and thrill—but also a subterranean menace, a tension fermenting beneath the surface, which would soon burst. Thus, we can all agree that what was truly in store for us at the beginning of this new age, nobody could have expected; it is safe to say that, ultimately, none of us had 20/20 vision. In 2012, many mistakenly believed, based on some random interpretation of the Mayan calendar, that the world was going to end, and so prepared for doomsday. They were wrong. Instead, many are now convinced that, in fact, these are the end times; apocalyptic, eschatological fear echoes between friends, family, and Internet comments. “2020,” we have declared, “is going to be the worst year.”

It’s during times like these, when it seems as if everything’s coming apart, when we feel more isolated than ever before, when everyday life becomes not-so-everyday, when economies are collapsing, when protests and riots shatter the quiet rhythm of quietude and well up from long-repressed structural problems—it’s during times like these that we feel most hopeless and desperate, and begin to question what the meaning of it all is, what sense, if there is any, there is to what is happening. All at once, we have been bombarded by one crisis after the next, without any pause in between to allow us to orient ourselves, leaving us confused, lost, frustrated, lonely, and sad.

In December of 2019, a new virus broke out in Wuhan, China, and nobody thought much of it, seeing as nobody knew what it was capable of. It was endemic to China, so there was no cause for worry. Gradually, though, as the number of cases rose, and as news of the virus spread, the world grew anxious. Would it spread outside of China? How dangerous was it? Well, by March 11, 2020, the World Health Organization declared the Coronavirus, or COVID-19, a pandemic, meaning that it had officially become a global problem, affecting countries worldwide. Around this time, it was announced that all 50 states of the U.S. had cases. As of now, coming out of May, there have been over 100,000 deaths in America alone. Outbreaks of rampant racism directed toward Asian-Americans broke out throughout the country as they were scapegoated for causing the “Chinese virus,” as President Trump impulsively and unhelpfully labeled it. Due to the virus, which multiplied exponentially, practically halting the global economy, the stock market suffered in February at a rate comparable to that of the Great Recession in 2008; businesses have been forced to close, while only those deemed “essential” are allowed to continue operating, and unemployment rates are soaring. Sports were canceled. Schools were closed, forcing students online to learn, impacting college admissions, testing, and the actual learning itself, all negatively, of course. Statewide, shelter-in-place protocols have been cracking down on citizens from moving in varying degrees, some demanding that they stay at home, many requiring six feet of separation. Upset with these measures, many discontented Americans have launched protests against these “fascist” limitations, despite their necessity in helping to flatten the curve. Efforts to find a vaccine are not promising, and it is uncertain when things will get better.
On January 26, basketball player Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter crash, surprising the world, for he was respected and loved by many.
While jogging in a neighborhood in Georgia, Ahmaud Arbery, a black man, was hunted down, shot, and killed on February 23 by two white men.
Since March of 2019, Hong Kong has been struggling against China to hold onto its autonomy and preserve democracy. Recently, China has begun cracking down on protesters even harder, and Trump has withdrawn support.
What is capturing the our attention most, however, rather than COVID-19, is the recent tragic death of a black man, George Floyd, at the hands of a white police offer who kneeled on his neck for over eight minutes in Minneapolis, Minnesota on May 25. Outrage over not only the incident itself, considering this has happened countless times in the past, but also over the tepid response—the guilty officers were merely fired—provoked protests in the city. The lack of a proper response and the arrival of city police escalated the confrontations even more, and, due to increasing frustration on the part of protesters and instigative behavior on the part of the police, violence erupted; protests spread nationally in major cities, some peaceful, some violent, and President Trump, rather than try to de-escalate or palliate the issue, has merely fanned the flames even more, sending the national guard to Minneapolis, where violent rioting has been targeting buildings, cars, small businesses, and civilians. At this point, the nation is torn. Who has the legitimate right to violence? Are the rioters justified, or are the police?

All in all, it is understandable that we should wish 2020 were a dream; that, if we could just close our eyes and re-open them, we’d be back in simpler times. It prompts the question we’ve all been asking ourselves internally: Why does 2020 suck so much? Is there any meaning to this mess?

In an essay titled “‘Meaning’ in History,” philosopher W.H. Walsh asked the question of whether or not history has any meaning. By meaning, he explained that it meant intelligibility; for history to be meaningful, it has to be understandable why things happened the way they did. He went on to distinguish between the meaning in history images and the meaning of history. Meaning in history is how we usually think of it. In history class, we learn that historical events happened at a specific place and time, and certain other events led up to them, and followed them as a result. That is, meaning in history is contextual; it fits into a larger picture. The Minneapolis Riot of 2020, for example, is meaningful in history because its causes can be identified, and it has clear consequences. On the other hand, Walsh describes the meaning of history as more difficult than its counterpart: Whereas meaning in history has a context within which to place it—the larger web of events before and after it—the meaning of history has no such comparison. After all, if one compares a single event to the whole of history, then to what, in turn, does one compare the whole of history? Meaning within history is causal, while the meaning of history appeals to something outside of it; history requires some sort of justification, and must have some purpose, some end goal toward which it is tending. As Walsh puts it,

History will make sense, on this view, only if it can be seen as a drama which is morally satisfying. The impetus to think in this way comes from reflection on the miseries and evils of which so much of history appears on the surface to consist: it is felt that these cannot be ‘pointless,’ but must serve some good purpose (Gardiner, Theories of History, p. 304).

In other words, we want to know: Did George Floyd die in vain? Was his death truly meaningful? To the first, we want the answer to be no; to the second, yes. History, as we know, is a narrative, a story that we tell—and we are hoping that it has a good ending.

Unknown-4 So does 2020 have a meaning? We know that it has meaning in history, but that it is not satisfying to us. What we want, above all, is to know why 2020 has happened, what truth there is to be found in all this senseless suffering. We want an explanation that is “morally satisfying,” and which makes up for the injustice that surrounds us. It is my opinion that the Coronavirus cannot adequately be made sense of in this way; it is not so much a historical event as a pure Event in philosophical terms (read Claude Romano’s trilogy on evential hermeneutics), an occurrence whose cause is utterly spontaneous and incomprehensible, seeming to burst out of nowhere, and afflicting us irrevocably, transforming the very fabric of existence. However, I do think, through the philosophy of history, that we can shed some light on the current protests and find a glimmer of light—of hope—therein (I will not be analyzing the ethics of protesting/violence in this post).

Before we look at the philosophy of history, I should give a quick disclaimer about the role of philosophy. Right away, I shall say this: Philosophy will not solve our problems (not immediately, at least). One of the appeals of philosophy during a crisis is that, in the words of Hegel, it lets us “escape from the weary strife of passions that agitates the Unknown-2 surface of society into the calm region of contemplation” (Philosophy of History, p. 392).* Since we are all stuck at home, we have time to turn away from the loudness of the outside world. Taking a step back and looking at where we are now from a distance allows us to catch a breath, calm down, and see with more clarity. So while philosophy may not help us solve racism or restore order to the world again, it does offer us consolation; philosophy helps us to understand what is happening in a sober way, comforting us in a time of intense anxiety by soothing our minds. The inefficacy of philosophy is due to the fact that it “in any case always comes on the scene too late” (Preface to Philosophy of Right, p. 7). Philosophy is reflective, is grounded in reflection—but reflection is always reflection on something, meaning it comes after the fact. Thus, philosophy, by reflecting on the present, essentially misses the present, arrives after its departure. We are always immersed in what is happening right now, preventing us from understanding the future. But this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t philosophize.

Unknown-3 G.W.F. Hegel (1770-1831) remains one of the most influential philosophers of all time. He is famous for his confusing, difficult writing; for inspiring Karl Marx’s theory of communism; and for his interesting interpretation of history, on which I’ll be focusing, and to which I now turn. Hegel boldly stated, “The history of the world is none other than the progress of the consciousness of freedom” (PH, p. 168). The entire course of history, or, in Walsh’s language, the meaning of history, is the realization of freedom. As simple as that!—though, eh, not quite. According to Hegel, history is driven forth by an invisible force, what he called “Spirit” (Geist), or “the Absolute.” Spirit is essentially freedom itself, so when Hegel talks about “the progress of the consciousness of freedom,” he was saying that Spirit, through the happenings of civilizations, attempts to understand itself; that is, history acts a mirror which Spirit holds up to itself, as if to admire its increasing self-consciousness at certain checkpoints. As time goes on, and as societies evolve, what it means to be free, and how freedom manifests itself in the world, progresses.

This would actually make sense, if you think about it: In the United States, for example, we can see the evolution of freedom through history when we consider that our nation was founded upon slavery in the 18th-century, then developed resistance to it through abolitionism in the 19th-century, got rid of it in 1865, virtually restored it through Jim Crow, then reversed that again in the ‘60s. At each point, you can see how our conception of freedom changed for blacks. Although blacks are still far from equal in the 21st-century in America, you can still see how, at each of the milestones I mentioned, the idea of freedom seemed to go back and forth, as if in a game of tug-of-war. What this shows is that history is far from complete: Freedom has yet to be fully realized.

Unknown-1 The movement of Spirit through history is achieved through a famous process called the “Dialectic,” which consists of three stages: Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. A thesis is any starting condition or fact in history, like the institution of slavery. Over time, there emerges an opposition to this fact, known as the antithesis, e.g., abolitionism. These two conditions fight each other because they are opposites, and through their conflict results a new condition, the synthesis, which borrows from both the thesis and the antithesis. For instance, after the slaves were emancipated in 1865 and aided by the Reconstruction Amendments—the antithesis—there was still conflict because Southern states created Black Codes, and Jim Crow even took place in the North—the thesis. The new result, the synthesis, in which blacks were not quite slaves but also not quite freedmen, thus combined the tensions of pro- and anti-slavery. This new condition would then become the new thesis, against which a new antithesis would arise—and the process continues. You can see how freedom would evolve through history, then.

Key to the dialectic is negation. On the abstract level, because consciousness is a form of negation for Hegel (and also Jean-Paul Sartre), it means that self-consciousness, for which Spirit strives, consists in self-negation, a kind of self-transcendence, by which it manages to move past and beyond itself, to the next, higher stage. Put more simply, Unknown-5 negation is the act of canceling, of denying, of saying “No” to something. Faced with what-is, the current state of history, Spirit always says “No” to it, goes against it, exposing faults in the system in the process. Accordingly, history is the continuous contradiction of and challenge to the status quo, “the way things just are.” In the words of one commentator, “Freedom, according to Hegel, is something that has to be achieved, and it therefore would be impossible in the absence of opposition and negation” (Acton’s article on “Hegel” in The Encylopedia of Philosophy, Vol. III, p. 446). Freedom, in short, is something worth fighting for. Harriet Tubman, Nat Turner, Du Bois, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Stokely Carmichael, and so many more—all of them fought against a racist system for freedom. Freedom cannot be gained, after all, if there is nothing from which to gain that freedom. History is conflict, a constant struggle in the name of freedom.

“What is rational is actual and what is actual is rational,” Hegel controversially claimed (Preface to PR, p. 6). Reading this, it seems like Hegel has contradicted his entire philosophy: Is he supporting the status quo by saying that whatever exists in the present exists because it is rational—even reasonable? Is the brute fact that George Floyd was murdered “rational”? Are the brute facts that institutional racism and police brutality continue to plague our country “rational”?—because they are all certainly actual, so it must mean that they are rational, in Hegel’s view. Using this interpretation, some philosophers, like Karl Popper, to name one, have accused Hegel of being a conservative reactionary whose views had, if not led to, at least advocated for, fascism and totalitarianism, calling for us to accept to the State and not question it. However, as others have correctly pointed out, this is actually a misinterpretation of Hegel’s philosophy; in fact, Hegel was a progressive philosopher, his entire premise of history—that it progresses toward freedom—inspired by the liberal ideas of the Enlightenment.

The confusion surrounds his use of “actual,” Wirklich in German. To understand what Hegel intends with “actual” is difficult, but he does not intend for it to mean “existing now,” necessarily; instead, it has to do with the Idea of Freedom and its relation to the Spirit and history. The actual is that which is effective, that which actual-izes the Unknown-6 movement of freedom. The Voting Rights Act of 1965, insofar as it worked to realize freedom, was more actual, in this respect, than were the polling taxes imposed by states during Jim Crow that hindered black voters from self-representation. Even though both existed and were real, only one was actual in that was a manifestation of Spirit. Yet, to be sure, we can include oppressive facts, or unfree elements—polling taxes, police brutality, etc.—only to the extent that they function within the dialectic. That is to say, a policy like literacy testing or the grandfather clause from the 19th-century could technically, if we wanted, be considered “actual” and “rational” when we see them in the context of the struggle between thesis and antithesis. But if we want to take the safe route, then we can simply say that all syntheses, to be exact, having come from the dialectic, and in furthering it, are actual—and ipso facto rational.

In addition to the semantic argument—saying that the confusion arises from the meaning of “actual”—there is also the modal argument: Hegel’s statement is not really a statement. The way I interpret it, “What is rational is actual and what is actual is rational” is not descriptive but prescriptive, is not indicative but subjunctive. Here, the ambiguity comes not from the meaning of “actual” but the verb “is.” Normally, we take “is” to be the present indicative; it describes how things are, in which case Hegel would be supporting the status quo. But I see it as more of a requirement that conditions be a certain way rather than a depiction of them. Thus, whatever is actual, if it is to be actual, must be rational, and vice versa. If something is to be rational, then it is to be actual; thus, we see that the statement is transformed from the present tense to the future tense, as a demand upon reality, expressing influence—hence, the subjunctive mood. There is an element of suspension and deferral in the statement—anticipation, expectation, an imminent “not-yet.” What people are protesting right now, as we speak, is in response to the irrationality of our country’s situation, the fact that racism is allowed to prosper. In pitting the thesis against the antithesis, our hope is that freedom will become actual, that what comes out of our efforts will, in being actual, be rational.

Hegel championed the state as the culmination of history; the last stop on the journey to freedom’s actualization/realization is the state, for it is through this institution that individuals, as individuals, can flourish. Obviously, there is a disconnect here, as many would object that, in fact, the state is the threat to freedom, rather than the protector or guarantor thereof. But let us listen to Hegel on the matter:

The state is actual, and its actuality consists in this, that the interest of the whole is realized in and through particular ends. Actuality is always the unity of the universal and particular… Where this unity is not present, a thing is not actual even though it may have acquired existence (PR, Addition 162).

Fortunately, we have examined what Hegel means by “actual,” so understanding what he was saying here is made much easier. He actually adds a new dimension to the actual: it is the “unity of the universal and particular.” By this, I take him to be referring to his Unknown-7 distinction between objective and subjective freedom, the goal of the state being to reconcile the two in one. Subjective freedom, as you might guess, has to do with individual people. You can think of it is as the freedom belonging to a “subject,” even though that term carries with it negative connotations of an absolute monarchy in the 17th-century, while Hegel was describing citizens in a liberal nation with a constitution. As such, subjective freedom covers our civil rights and duties to one another. In contrast, objective freedom is basically the externalization, or outward manifestation, of Spirit’s freedom as embodied by institutions and the “general will,” a term Hegel borrowed from Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a Swiss Enlightenment thinker, which is basically a society’s consensus; that is, if one voice had to speak for every single person, then that voice would be the general will.

Unknown Now, again, this doctrine could be used—and it has been—to indict Hegel and Rousseau as enablers of totalitarianism seeing as the general will, as representing the majority, could be used to justify oppressive measures. And, yes, while it is true that Hegel did subordinate the individual will to the general will (society > individuals), this is only the case because it is on the presumption that the general will, as objective freedom, is supposed to instantiate and stand for the Spirit’s essence of freedom, in accordance with which subjective freedom would follow suit. In short, when true freedom is realized, when Spirit becomes self-conscious of freedom in its completion, then the general will, by definition, will be necessarily just and equal, so there is no conflict between individual wills. That is, a truly free society—because it is free, and conscious of being free—will be a peaceful one in which there is no injustice.

From this, we know the reason Hegel praised the state is because it unites the many (people) in and by the one (society). So actually, it calls to mind the U.S.’s motto: E pluribus unum; out of many, one. The state unites the universal (objective) and the particular (subjective). Recall that Hegel said that if “this unity is not present,” then the state is “not actual” despite its existing in the present. Herbert Marcuse, in Reason and Revolution, summarizes it like this: “Hegel endorsed the state only in so far as it was rational, that is, in so far as it preserved and promoted individual freedom and the social potencies of man” (Marcuse, Reason and Revolution, 389). So, to be clear, Hegel is not advocating for a blind obedience to any and every state just because it is a state; the state per se is not justified in itself, but only insofar as it fulfills its purpose.

In Trevor Noah’s video regarding the Floyd protests, he brings up Malcolm Gladwell, when, in my opinion, he really should have been bringing in John Locke, who initially brought up the notion, on the concept of the social contract, a concept that also ties in with Hegel’s idea of the state. According to Locke, and, by extension, Hegel, individuals Unknown and their representative government are bound to each other by a contract: “You, the government, will impose your laws on me, the citizen, and I will abide by them, so long as you protect my rights.” This is basically what Locke said. Implied in this contract, though, is the contingency of a breach. If the government fails to live up to its end of the contract, if it does not adequately represent and protect its citizens, then the citizens have the right, and obligation, to revolt against it until it does its job—and if it still fails, then a revolution happens. Hegel’s liberal state follows this same policy. Such a liberal state is realized, or effected, “only when it has reached maturity and looks back, as it were, on itself, at a time, that is to say, when a form of life already actualized itself and is ready to pass into or give way to another” (Copleston, A History of Philosophy, Vol. VII, p. 216).

A good society, a mature one, a liberal one, requires reflection and criticism. Patriotism is not blind obedience, and it is not synonymous with nationalism; patriotism is taking pride in the good of one’s state while being free to criticize its failures, in hopes that they can be corrected. On the one hand, the Left is correct in finding in the history of the United States a long list of shameful failures on the part of the state; though on the other, the Right is correct in upholding its faith in this nation which has done its fair share of good in the world. Yes, racism is a tumor on the body politic, but this does not mean that we have not done anything about it in the past; it is a matter of remaining steadfast and continuing these efforts. The 2020 protests remind us of our obligation to be great (from what we have seen, on Hegel’s view, Trump’s and his followers’ calls to “Make America Great Again” are groundless since history is dialectical; greatness has yet to be achieved; freedom for all must come first). If we want to be honest with ourselves, and if we want the best for the state and each other, then we must reflect on our current condition; we must be courageous in daring to challenge the status quo in order to expose what is wrong with it, for only then can the dialectic develop, and freedom unfold.

Unknown-8 What is an examination of history without bringing in one of the most famous quotations of all time? In 1905, the Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana wrote unforgettably, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Chances are, we have all heard or read this quote at one point, so we all understand it, right? Well, unfortunately, due to the popularity of short, pithy quotes, we tend to not care about the context. Right before this great quote, Santayana said, “Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual” (Reason in Common Sense, p. 284). With this context, we get a richer understanding of Santayana’s observation. He is saying that progress occurs step-by-step, gradually, via the accumulation of experience, which becomes a part of our collective memory. Put another way, the antonym of history is amnesia. Amnesia, forgetfulness, is the utter oblivion of history. But this is a repetition of what we already know.

What we gloss over is this: Change cannot be absolute. In saying this, Santayana is advising us not to rewrite history but to embrace it. Here is a concrete example: Slavery, we know, is a terrible part of our history, but an essential part, nonetheless. We might be tempted, then, to “rewrite” our history, to completely revolutionize the U.S. so as to eliminate any trace that slavery existed; this way, our history would be purged, cleansed, and we would never instate it again! On the contrary. To do this, Santayana recognized, would be to put in place the very conditions for slavery to happen again. If we tried to “correct” history by defying it, by “forgetting slavery,” for example, then we wouldn’t remember how bad it was, wouldn’t be haunted by its consequences, and so we would eventually stumble back upon it; history cannot be fooled; we cannot pull the wool over its eyes. We need the memory of slavery in order to atone for it, or else we will repeat it again. History is “retentiveness”; to be forgetful, is to regress to “infancy” and “savage[ry].”

Unknown-9 Did George Floyd die in vain? What about the Chicago race riots in 1919, when a black boy was stoned by a group of whites and drowned, igniting violent conflicts? Or what about the 1965 riot in Watts in Los Angeles? Or what about the police brutality inflicted upon Rodney King in 1992 in Los Angeles, when the officers were acquitted, causing violent rioting? Or, to use more recent memories, what about the needless, senseless deaths of Eric Garner and Michael Brown at the hands of white police officers in New York and Ferguson, Missouri, respectively, in 2014? Have we not learned from these and many more? Why is this still happening? Why did Floyd have to die if we have so many horrible memories in our collective conscience? “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Floyd’s death will have been in vain if we do not act and make reforms. We do him an injustice if, months from now, we have forgotten what transpired on May 25, 2020.

Hegel’s attitude toward the philosophy of history is interesting because it is nuanced. He thought philosophy was the highest human activity, the height of human thought, yet he also knew it to be impotent and, in certain respects, useless, effete. His ponderings on the state reflect this ambiguity. In his writings, he was not naïve or optimistic enough to say that states were perfect; he was fully aware that, despite embodying Spirit, states are a images human creation, so they are riddled with imperfections (read Addition 152 in PR). Critics find fault with Hegel, who proclaimed Prussia to be the final realization of Spirit and freedom; Copleston, though, takes a more sympathetic and understanding approach to Hegel’s proclamation: When he said Prussia was the final destination of history, Copleston understands him to mean that, in Hegel’s time, compared to the infantile United States—for which he saw a formidable future—and the other nations of Europe, Prussia was the highest fulfillment of Spirit. This is not to say that it was the highest fulfillment ever or that it would never be surpassed, merely that it was actual and rational for Hegel’s time. Just as Aristotle judged Athens to be the best city-state in spite of its decline, so Hegel judged Prussia the best in spite of its finitude; Prussia, in line with the dialectic of history, would continue to evolve after Hegel’s death. Each nation, Hegel thought, would develop itself through Spirit in its own unique way. Prussia was a militaristic power, for example. While it is impossible to identify what the U.S.’s tendency is, one tendency for sure is race relations. One can easily trace the dialectical struggle of racial justice in U.S. history.

So was Hegel describing the Ideal State or the real state, the Actual or the actual? Both, honestly; hence, the ambiguity. Repeatedly, Hegel criticized any attempt to imagine an “ideal city” because it was useless, in his eyes. What is the point of describing something that not only does not exist, but which most likely never will? But at the same time, he claimed later in his work to be describing the state at its ideal level. He wanted to outline what the state could and should be. So what’s the deal? Hegel thought that philosophy could only properly study what presently exists, what is real, not ideal. One cannot predict history because its dialectic must unfold of itself naturally, freely. In the end, we can say that Hegel saw philosophy’s value in its ability not to predict nor to describe, per se, but to forecast. I use this word because, as we know, meteorologists are not 100% accurate; they can make educated guesses as to what the weather most likely will look like, but it is not guaranteed. How many times have they said it was going to rain, only for it to not?

Unknown-10 This is what the philosopher does: The philosopher sees the state as it is, reflects on what it stands for (remember that reflection is always in the direction of the past!), and from that can roughly comment on the Zeitgeist, the “spirit of the times,” the general mood surrounding it. For example, right now, evidently, the U.S. has a charged, chaotic mood; beset by unemployment, sickness, and racism on all sides, the “spirit of the times”—the unfolding of Spirit at this particular moment—can, I think, be said to be in the midst of a dialectic; we are alive amidst a new struggle in the history of the consciousness of freedom, witnessing it unfurl before our eyes. As we noted in looking at Santayana, history and progress do not change absolutely, but in small changes at a time—or are we in store for a revolution? Who knows? I’m just an armchair philosopher…

Unknown I want to raise one objection/criticism that I thought of while coming up with this post. One of the things I forgot to mention—and it’s a big point, oops!—is that Hegel did not care so much for individuals in history—that is, everyday individuals like you and me, or even George Floyd or Ahmaud Arbery. He did care about what he called “world-historical individuals,” or those people we call “Great Men,” i.e., those people whose names we see in our history textbooks, the people like George Washington, Napoleon (Hegel’s personal favorite; his celebrity crush, in a way), Hitler, MLK, Jr., etc.—people who, almost by themselves, it seems, moved history forward, who were possessed by Spirit. These are the people who earn Hegel’s attention and praise. Everyone else, he thought, was a mere “instrument” or “moment” in history. I guess this is not surprising coming from a guy who said history was the movement of Spirit, and that the state is the objective manifestation of freedom.

The point is, his philosophy of history, while interesting, compelling, and, in my opinion, comforting, is very abstract and, as a result, impersonal. History becomes this great, epic drama, as Walsh described it in his essay—only, we do not get the lead role, because Spirit does. We are more like the trees or rocks in the background… History, the story of humanity, a story about US, about YOU and ME, is taken away from us; we are almost alienated from what is happening around is; we are pawns being used by an invisible force that permeates all of existence. To this extent, the death of George Floyd becomes less significant. It reminds of Mussolini who, in a speech in 1914, exclaimed, “It is blood which moves the wheels of history”—is Floyd just another name added to the list, whose spilt blood greases “the wheels of history” in Hegel’s epic? Or maybe his name is significant in martyrdom.

Or maybe not…

In conclusion, 2020 has been… eventful, to say the least. A succession of shocking and overwhelming catastrophes—coronavirus, racial conflict, death, economic disaster, disorder—has ruined what many were looking forward to as the beginning of a new decade, a time for renewal and resolution. Put in such a perilous position in so short a time has made us cynical and jaded, uncertain of what will come next, uncertain of the safety of our friends, family, and ourselves. It seems that everywhere our lives are in jeopardy. Many are waiting, anxious and frightened, for what the “writers” have put next in the “script” for this awesome thriller movie we call “2020.” Because we have so much time on our hands, it is inevitable, as Blaise Pascal pointed out, that our thoughts should become preoccupied with the vital matters of death and meaning, highlighted by the mortality all around us—what does it all mean? Why is this point in time, in history, so? Is there even a meaning to it? Depends on what you mean by “meaning.” If you are seeking the meaning of history, then perhaps you think Hegel is right: 2020 is another step in the long, arduous history of the struggle toward the consciousness of freedom. Philosophy may not solve all of our problems, but it certainly sheds light on them. While I do not presume to have “solved history,” “found the meaning of history,” or “make sense of the death of George Floyd” through this blog post, I hope I have at least taken away a bit of your anxiety, given you a bit of hope on which to hold, or given you a new perspective on these trying times. Stay safe, and do what you can to help others.

How you can help out:
Donate to help in the fight against coronavirus

Choose another donor to help fund those in need

Support the Minnesota Freedom Fund

Sign this petition to get justice for George Floyd

Works consulted (*all references to Hegel’s works are from Vol. 43 of The Great Books):
A History of Philosophy Vol. 7 by Fredrick Copleston (1994)
Encyclopedia of Philosophy Vol. 3 by Paul Edwards (1972)
Reason and Revolution by Herbert Marcuse (1968)
The Philosophy of History by G.W.F. Hegel (1990)
Theories of History by Patrick Gardiner (1959)
Philosophy of Right by G.W.F. Hegel (1990)

Neologikon

Rediscovering the humanities

Month: June 2020

Police Brutality (1 of 2)

Wolfe on Cynicism and Idealism

Heidegger and the Anthropocene (3)

The Making of a Movement (Part 4 of 4)

Today

Goals & Leadership

President

Ideology

Conclusion

The Making of a Movement (Part 2 of 4)

Obstacles

Presidents

Leadership Targeting

Law Enforcement

Ideology

The Making of a Movement (Part 1 of 4)

Goals

1954:

1955:

1956:

1957:

1960-1961:

1963:

1964:

1965:

1966:

1967:

1968:

Heidegger and the Anthropocene (2)

The Meaning of 2020

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Today

Goals & Leadership

President

Ideology

Conclusion

Share this:

Obstacles

Ideology

Today

Media

Goals & Self-correction

Share this:

Obstacles

Presidents

Leadership Targeting

Law Enforcement

Ideology

Share this:

Goals

1954:

1955:

1956:

1957:

1960-1961:

1963:

1964:

1965:

1966:

1967:

1968:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: