ExcerptTo invoke the term “morality” in the same sentence as Carl Schmitt will undoubtedly baffle some of his critics. Indeed, his more strident ones will probably be greatly offended by any such juxtaposition of Schmitt and morality. His name is still too often associated with a theory of—even despicable admiration for—the exercise of amoral political power, or an equally repugnant supple amoral opportunism emanating from a kind of nihilistic existentialism.

ExcerptWe are currently witness to a new rise of identity politics, only the content of which is prone to partisanship. On the one side of the political aisle, we are supposed to care about our particular place in a social hierarchy based on race, gender, or sexual orientation, while on the other side we are supposed to identify with our original geographical lineage. This approach to politics, which we commonly refer to as identity politics, has drawn the ire of liberal (...) critics that see it as a vehicle for division and conflicts that tears Western societies apart. Instead, rather than emphasize what divides us, these liberals wish to unite us by emphasizing that we are all cosmopolitan members of humanity. This essay shares the concerns that the liberals have with the rise of identity politics, but will argue that in one way, the liberal critics are no better then the identitarians they criticize. In both cases, there is a demand for a sacrifice of the individual for some greater good. When viewed in this way, it is irrelevant whether the sacrifice is made for the betterment of a particular identitarian group or humanity as a whole. (shrink)

ExcerptIncome inequality has terrible consequences for individuals, families, and communities. It can lead to poverty, crime, social unrest, and a decline in the overall quality of life. Chile has consistently been ranked among the most unequal countries in the world; however, between 1990 and 2020, Chile’s Gini index coefficient fell from 57 to 45.1 The top 1 percent of earners in Chile receive over 20 percent of the country’s income, while the bottom 20 percent of earners receive less than 5 (...) percent of the country’s income. (shrink)

ExcerptIn 1930, the right-wing Japanese scholar Ōgushi Toyoo published an article on “Carl Schmitt’s Theory of Sovereignty” in a memorial volume for his teacher, the reactionary political theorist Uesugi Shinkichi.1 We now live in a world where there is widespread, international interest in Schmitt’s work, ranging from the decades-long surge in interest in the United States that accelerated in the 1980s to the more recent “Schmitt Fever” that has been reported in China.2 This state of affairs often features scholars looking (...) back at Schmitt’s trenchant critiques to examine how they might illuminate modern political and institutional crises, but there has not always been this temporal distance to Schmitt’s work. During the early years of Schmitt’s activity, he had contemporary, international readers, although they seem to have largely been limited to two spheres: Germanophone scholars and Catholic readers abroad, primarily in France and Spain. The appearance of an article in Japan concerning Schmitt’s work as early as 1930—half a decade before the formation of the Axis—is thus an invitation not only to examine how this article came into being but also to consider the scope of Schmitt’s international impact even as he was conspicuously engaged in the political transformation of Germany. Rather than trying to map across time, the beginning of Japanese reception offers a chance to look at how Schmitt’s theory traveled abroad as well as how it was evaluated against a background facing similar circumstances. Moreover, Ōgushi’s piece points to a fact that has been relatively underappreciated in Western Schmitt scholarship: the Japanese reception of Schmitt produced one of the earliest extended corpuses on Schmitt’s ideas outside of Germany when measured in terms of the availability of Schmitt’s texts in translation and the uptake of his ideas by responding publications. This article takes Ōgushi’s text as an opportunity to lay some of the groundwork for expanding our understanding of how Schmitt’s ideas spread internationally both by examining the contextual factors that likely helped drive that spread and by digging into the content of this earliest published Japanese text on Schmitt. (shrink)

ExcerptCarl Schmitt’s The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy is a work of conceptual clarification. The thesis of the book is that democracy and parliamentarism must be differentiated rather than confused and conflated. In the nineteenth century, it may have seemed like a democratic system must have a parliament, but Schmitt contends that democracy and parliamentarism embody distinct and separable principles: “democracy can exist without... parliamentarism and parliamentarism without democracy.”1 Since popular sovereignty and democracy are the most powerful political ideas of the (...) modern western European cultural region—Schmitt speaks of the “victory of democracy”2—this disconnection is a strike against parliamentarism; Schmitt’s definitional work seeks to reduce the belief in the necessity and prestige of parliamentary politics. Writing in the early 1920s, Schmitt also suggests that the parliamentary tradition has lost much of its persuasive force for the contemporary public. From his vantage point, new and vigorous political movements represented by Marxist communism and Italian fascism reject any inclusion into the framework of a parliamentary debate; there is no cause, then, for “parliamentary optimism.”3 The theorists and leaders of the new, uncompromising ideological fronts show no interest in a resumption of an ordered interchange of opinions and policy ideas, which means that the age of discussion will not be sustained or renewed. On this note, Schmitt ends the book. (shrink)

ExcerptIt hardly needs mentioning that liberal democracy is facing a number of threats today, both internal and external. Even if the political parties in the United States cannot agree on the main source of the threats, they both believe that democracy is in danger. Democrats point to the January 6 Capitol riot and Trump’s role in it as examples of the way in which liberal democratic procedures are being directly attacked. Republicans point to the Democratic-backed court cases against Trump as (...) well as the FBI’s favoritism toward Democrats in their public announcements before elections as evidence that the legal system and the administrative state are being used to shut out political opponents. Both parties point to violations of free speech rights at college campuses, yet they also both seek to establish limits to those rights in defense of liberal democratic values. (shrink)

ExcerptIn The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy, Carl Schmitt describes the multiple ways in which parliamentarism can be beset by forces that undermine its coherence and legitimacy.1 Writing in the context of a fledgling Weimar Republic and few historical examples of successful transitions to republican and democratic government, he analyzes the structures of parliamentary democracy in order to evaluate its claims to legitimacy as well as the practical threats to its endurance as a system of government. His thinking was premised upon (...) his previous work on forms of dictatorship on the one hand and the idea of political theology on the other. By linking democracy to dictatorship and popular sovereignty to representation, Schmitt indicates how parliamentary democracy, though appealing to an ideal of rational discussion, nevertheless depends on a mythic basis for its legitimation. (shrink)

ExcerptNow a century old, Carl Schmitt’s The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy still provides useful training for historians in the necessary task of making distinctions between “liberalism” and “democracy,” two movements that arose with overlapping but distinct core principles in eighteenth-century Europe, often competed with each other, and sometimes came into bloody conflict. Schmitt makes one highly controversial assertion, however, near the beginning of this book. After agreeing with Alexis de Tocqueville that the spread of democracy was the most powerful political (...) trend of the nineteenth century, a trend that became almost irresistible,1 Schmitt declares that there is a crucial flaw in the argument of Jean-Jacques Rousseau that exposes a major problem with democratic theory in general. Democracy has taken so many different forms, according to Schmitt, that it can only be defined according to the basic principle that political decisions are only binding for those who participated in making them. This belief presupposes “that the will of the outvoted minority is in truth identical with the will of the majority. Rousseau’s frequently cited arguments in the Contrat social are fundamental [emphasis added] for democratic thought and ultimately conform to an old tradition.”2 Schmitt refers here to Rousseau’s argument in On the Social Contract (book IV, ch. 2) that if the proposition you supported fails to gain a majority in a referendum, you should acknowledge that you had been mistaken when you voted, because the question posed to citizens was not exactly whether they personally approved of the proposition, but “whether or not it conforms to the general will that is theirs.”3 Schmitt observes caustically that “with this Jacobin logic one can, it is well known, justify the rule of a minority over the majority, even while appealing to democracy.” The first democratic movement of the modern era, the Levellers in the English Civil War, had already attempted this, Schmitt argues, when they proclaimed in 1649 that only the “well-affected” deserved the right to vote in parliamentary elections.4 Schmitt concludes that democracy is therefore highly vulnerable to the emergence of dictatorship, and that the Bolsheviks had just as strong an argument in 1923 that their brutal dominion by an “enlightened” minority was truly democratic as did the Jacobins of 1793. “Theoretically, and in critical times also practically, democracy is helpless [emphasis added] before the Jacobin argument, that is, when faced with the authoritative identification of a minority as the people.” The meaning here of “authoritative identification” (entscheidenden Identifikation) is unclear; Schmitt does not seek to explain why the majority in a democracy should ever accept a minority’s claim that it alone possesses civic virtue or wisdom.5 A very similar argument about Rousseau was made nevertheless by J. L. Talmon in The Origins of Totalitarian Democracy (published in 1952), which has in turn influenced some recent scholars who, like Talmon, do not acknowledge any intellectual debt to Schmitt.6. (shrink)

ExcerptModern mass democracy, in Carl Schmitt’s telling, is a “confused combination” of democracy and liberalism.1 Democracy is based on substantive equality, which is incompatible with the universal equality of liberalism. Even with such contrary principled foundations, “democracy and liberalism could be allied to each other for a time.” Yet “as soon as it achieves power, liberal democracy must decide between its elements.”2 For there can be “‘heterogeneity of purposes’” but “no heterogeneity of principles.”3.

1. IntroductionIn his dissertation written under Wilhelm Hennis in 1991, Franz-Josef Ehrle was the first to write about the lecture “Probleme der Staatssoziolo-gie” (“Problems of State Sociology”) that Max Weber gave to the Vienna Sociological Society on October 25, 1917.1 Ehrle used as his source the report on the lecture published in the Neue Freie Presse on October 26, 1917.2 Ehrle also mentions a diary entry made by Josef Redlich, who was among the audience: “Thursday evening, a brilliant lecture by (...) Max Weber(Heidelberg) at the Sociological Society.”3 There exists a short biography of Redlich, taken from an excursus on “The Representatives of the (Bourgeois) Austrian Peace Movement” (“Die Vertreter der (bürgerlichen) österreichischen Friedensbewegung”): “Josef Redlich (1869–1936), jurist and politician, 1907–1918 MöAH (Deutsche Fortschrittspartei/German Progressive Party), Oct.–Nov. 1918, last Imperial and Royal Finance Minister.”4 Ehrle also indicates that Redlich met Max Weber in Vienna in 1909 at the General Congress of the Society for Social Politics (Verein für Sozialpolitik), but that Redlich’s acquaintance with Alfred Weber went back further (as shown in Redlich’s diary entry of September 2, 1909: “Saw Alfred Weber again”).5 Furthermore, a longer meeting with Max Weber is mentioned in Redlich’s diary in 1916 (on June 6).6 When Weber was staying in Vienna in 1917 and 1918, he also met privately with Redlich, and Arthur von Rosthorn attended one of these meetings with his wife (entry of May 9, 1918). Finally, Redlich wrote about his acquaintance with Max Weber in a letter to Hugo von Hofmannsthal on December 3, 1926. Ehrle summarizes Weber’s meetings in Vienna as being “limited primarily to his contacts from academia, economics (Hammerschlag), and politics (and, here, above all the economic field (Mataja, Riedl, Schüler)),” often encouraged by the fact that “academics held ministerial posts and ministers held academic posts.”7. (shrink)

ExcerptIn the immediate aftermath of the Hamas attacks on October 7, and then again during the spring, coordinated protests have spread through colleges and universities. The rapidity with which normal functioning was disrupted and the helplessness of administrators, on poignant display in the congressional hearing, point to fundamental weaknesses in higher education. I doubt that there can be a return to a pre-October 7 normalcy. Public dismay with universities was already pronounced before the protests, and the campus chaos has triggered (...) memories of the lawlessness of the George Floyd riots. What’s wrong with higher ed? Can it be saved with a program of ambitious reforms? Or do we need new structures? In the wake of October 7, universities are due for major changes, one way or another, by themselves or by Congress. A very different set of institutions may emerge. (shrink)

ExcerptWhen a student at the well-known Berlin art school Universität der Künste (UdK) used psychoanalytic terms to question her teacher’s assertion that we should listen to the “trees talking” more, she was attacked for her “colonial racist thinking,” using concepts of the white man, Sigmund Freud, to delegitimize “indigenous knowledge.”.

ExcerptThere might have been no need to theorize “October 7” in southern Israel and its ghoulish afterlife, far away, on the American college campus, but for the bitter irony that receptions of the Hamas pogrom were already laden, from the start, with what academics these days are calling “critical theory.” It ought to have been sufficient unto the day (דיה לצרה בשעתה, as the rabbis say) that such horrors be rendered straightforwardly in journalistic accounts, scientifically in forensic studies, colloquially in (...) survivors’ testimonies, defiantly in all that graffiti all over Tel Aviv protesting “7/10,” mournfully in all those obituaries all over Israeli media, heartbreakingly at public gatherings week after week in Hostages Square (כיכר החטופים) and obscenely in the murderers’ own self-made GoPro videos. (shrink)

ExcerptRecently, I bore witness to events on the Yale campus that made me wonder about the meaning of being Jewish at the present, and that recollected to my mind the tales of the Mishnah, which delineate, in tractate Nezikin, judicial actions for damages. Section one explores how humans should behave in relation to the famous “goring ox.”1 Amidst the many concrete cases stands one in which the ox of a man of “sound sense” gores the ox of a “deaf-mute, an (...) imbecile, or a minor” (m BK 4.4). In this instance, the sound-minded man is culpable for damages, whereas the opposite holds true for the owner who is deaf, intellectually disabled, or a minor. However, this matter cannot end there since the ox of these latter owners must be prohibited from inflicting further damage without consequence. The court “must appoint a guardian” over these owners unless their status changes, at which point the court can deem the ox harmless once again (m BK 4.4). (shrink)

ExcerptTo the Columbia Community:Over the past six months, many have spoken in our name. Some are wellmeaning alumni or non-affiliates who show up to wave the Israeli flag outside Columbia’s gates. Some are politicians looking to use our experiences to foment America’s culture war. Most notably, some are our Jewish peers who tokenize themselves1 by claiming to represent “real Jewish values,” and attempt to delegitimize our lived experiences of antisemitism. We are here, writing to you as Jewish students at Columbia (...) University, who are connected to our community and deeply engaged with our culture and history. We would like to speak in our name. (shrink)

ExcerptIn 1959, C. P. Snow delivered the Rede Lecture on “The Two Cultures.”1 Snow’s fundamental point was that humanists and scientists speak past each other, assuming that they communicate at all. “[I]ntellectual life,” Snow writes, “is increasingly being split into two polar groups.” At one end, “literary intellectuals,” at the other, “scientists,” and between the two “a gulf of mutual incomprehension—sometimes (particularly among the young) hostility and dislike, but most of all lack of understanding.” Scientists don’t read any imaginative literature (...) because it has no practical application; and humanists ignore science because they think it is “of no interest either in its own value or its consequences.” The result is a split that does nobody any good. (shrink)

ExcerptHow should American universities foster enlightening and challenging debates on matters of public, faculty, and student concern while maintaining a university community that is as politically, religiously, ethnically, and racially diverse as the country in which they sit? In the century or so that the leading American universities have wandered, unguided by their previous Christian mission, this problem—balancing academic freedom and diversity—has become the principal challenge for their administrators, from presidents and trustees down to dorm counselors.1.

ExcerptThis paper aims to demonstrate how political study in China contributes to and facilitates debates among Chinese and Western authors by fostering a plural understanding of political science generally, conceptually, and methodologically that goes beyond the simple dichotomization of democracy and authoritarianism. Over the last four decades (1978 to the present), Chinese political study has been shaped by two indigenized schools, among others: historical political study (lishi zhengzhi xue 历史政治学) and fieldwork political study (tianye zhengzhi xue 田野政治学). Some stimulating debates (...) have unfolded in these two narratives by simultaneously reintroducing history and reconceptualizing Chinese politics through straightforward fieldwork. These two indigenized approaches include epistemological, ontological, theoretical, and methodological aspects, and the spontaneous reconstruction of the “Chinese school” rebalances both the “scope conditions” and Chineseness of the discipline. Should these two conceivable branches not be purely descriptive, the question remains whether they represent the future trajectory of Chinese political study or merely a transient occurrence during China’s transitional stage. (shrink)

ExcerptEvery new Chinese leader considers it his duty to make his contribution to state administration theory, which, while formally considered to be Marxist, is moving ever further away from the classical doctrines of Marx and Engels and from their Soviet, Leninist-Stalinist version. Chinese party theoreticians explain that it is the changing situation and specific nature of Chinese society, and not just the ambitions of the country’s leaders, that create the need for new theories. It is no coincidence that a whole (...) section of Xi Jinping’s report to the 20th Congress of the Communist Party of China (CPC) was devoted to the “Sinification” (中国化) and “modernization” (时代化) of Marxism, which, together, are acknowledged as one of the CPC’s most important achievements in the field of theory. (shrink)

ExcerptI remember it well. It was in the spring of 1987 when I commenced my lecture in Osnabrück on the German left with these remarks: “So that we understand each other: Regardless of my heavy criticisms and profound objections to many facets of its current affairs, I fully accept the existence of the Federal Republic of Germany and do not want its destruction!” People looked at me as if I had lost my mind!

IntroductionEvery day, it seems, we advance into darkness we have not known before. It is not a journey we have sought out or chosen for ourselves. We are swept along by a current of malice that can only be avoided if we hide from the news. The spectacle of a mass anti-Zionist and antisemitic “Gaza Solidarity Encampment” on Columbia University’s central quad and elsewhere has structural predecessors, to be sure, like the Occupy Wall Street movement, but parallels with mass antisemitism (...) require comparison with earlier historical moments. As the University of Chicago’s president, Paul Alivisatos, wrote straightforwardly in a public letter, “the impact of an encampment depends on the degree to which it disrupts study, scholarship, and free movement around campus.”1 The Occupy Wall Street movement was notably accompanied by a substantial body of theoretical work, whereas the Columbia occupation is supported by little more than a Manichaean view of a world divided between oppressor and oppressed peoples. The chants are sounded without any plausible theory of how they could actually lead to the dissolution of the Jewish state. The students breaking windows and occupying a building at Columbia were certainly employing theory of a sort when they asserted that the university had a moral responsibility to deliver meals to them, but observers found the theory difficult to endorse. The students promise to remain until Columbia meets their divestment demands—which presumably means they will be in their tents for a very long time indeed, since for governing boards to cede their investment authority to mob action means giving up their other responsibilities as well. But Brown University’s governing corporation has agreed to meet with student representatives and hold a vote on divestment in the fall.2 I expect the results of the vote will disappoint the protestors. (shrink)

ExcerptAs we consider the recent turmoil at our colleges and universities, it seems nearly incomprehensible that college students, faculty, and many politicians have been supporting Hamas’s terrorism against Israel. The disconnect between the anti-Israel and the pro-Israel perspectives has revealed to the world both that there is a profound rift in our educational establishment and that what is happening is symptomatic of a larger problem that has grown over many decades. Since the problem has exceeded the limits of the academy (...) and has begun to influence foreign affairs, in ways that have undermined allies such as Israel, and domestic policy, for instance in our approach to the freedom of speech, the problem of higher education is in fact a problem of our entire constitutional order. I would like to describe the problems at our colleges and universities, some of the causes, and possible strategies for reversing the deterioration of higher education. (shrink)

ExcerptI try to be sympathetic to the anti-Israel activists roiling campuses everywhere, including Columbia University, my graduate alma mater, lately perhaps the most roiled. I do that because of my quaint conception of the academy as a place where, in the pursuit of truth, people should freely express their opinions but also be willing to listen to the opinions of others. And I think about how I would act, say, during the early 1940s, when I learned that a genocide against (...) the Jewish people was occurring and all too many people were not paying attention. Wouldn’t I protest, loudly? Disrupt “business as normal”? Get in the face of the people ignoring it or, worse, in any degree complicit in it? Maybe even break a few rules or laws? I hope that I would. (shrink)

Excerpt“From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” and “We don’t want no two states, we want 1948” are two of the slogans that have been heard on American campuses during the protests in recent weeks. These reflect the idea that Israel should be replaced by a Palestinian-Arab state and violence should be used to achieve this goal if necessary. While much of the discourse since October 7 has focused on the nature of Hamas’s attack—the rapes, the burnings, (...) the shootings—not enough has been written on what it actually sought to achieve. (shrink)

ExcerptIn France for several years now, the universities, including the top ranking ones [grandes écoles], have been subjected to increasing pressure by active minorities, who can be characterized as “woke” or Islamo-leftist and who are able to exert, here and there, a genuine ideological dictatorship. On a number of questions, starting with the Israeli–Palestinian conflict or the Islamist menace, freedom of expression and freedom of debate are de facto forbidden. A pluralism of opinion has been replaced by the imposition of (...) the ideological convictions of a politicized minority who share the same hatred of Israel and same admiration for “armed resistance” as an Islamist organization like Hamas. This is the case of Sciences Po Paris, which under the cover of virtuous calls for diversity and inclusion has fallen into a culture of suspicion, intolerance, denunciation, and sidelining of “those who don’t toe the line.” As at other institutions of higher learning, small sectarian far-left groups, in the name of the defense of “minorities” and of “victims”—those whom they value—impose their law, in the face of administrative authorities whose main concern is not to “make waves” and who, as a consequence, are willing to accept everything, to tolerate everything, closing their eyes as much as possible to the actions of the activists, who show off and impose the reign of their intellectual terrorism. This is the spectacle produced by the policy of tolerance toward the intolerant. (shrink)

1. Two Approaches to the EarthIn several postwar texts, the earth increasingly receives attention from Carl Schmitt.1 In The Nomos of the Earth, the most important of these texts, he refers to Friedrich Hölderlin, a much earlier, very different author, who also considers the subject of the earth. Even though the positions of both are, ultimately, quite similar, they maintain significant terminological differences. Schmitt and Hölderlin both employ the word “nomos,” but in very different ways. Hölderlin regards “nomos” as “law” (...) in the sense of “positive” norm or “Gesez.”2 This use of “nomos” as “Gesez” differs from a second notion of law as the meaning operating at the basis of what Hölderlin calls the “sphere.” The sphere is a meaningful whole in which man originally exists. Law is here the very relations of the sphere as a meaningful whole. Hölderlin calls it the law in a “negative” sense.3 This second notion of law by Hölderlin (negative law or law as the meaning at the basis of the sphere) coincides precisely with the Schmittian idea of “nomos” as an “order of meaning [Sinnreich],”4 what he also calls the law in an “ontonomous and existential” sense.5 The first use of law as “nomos” or “Gesez” by Hölderlin coincides with Schmitt’s use of “Gesetz”: of law as “positive” law. (shrink)

ExcerptCarl Schmitt (1888–1985) is known as the most consequential German legal and political mind of the twentieth century.1 Many crimes of the Nazi regime found support in his conceptual justifications, and Schmitt is called the “Crown Jurist” of the Third Reich with good reason. Historians, political scientists, and sociologists must grapple with the author in order to understand the course of totalitarianism in modernity. Whether literary historians should do so is far less settled, though he was fascinated by their object (...) of study. His writings on literary topics are said to reveal much about Schmitt’s person, politics, and period, but little about literature itself.2 This explains why his “Don Quijote und das Publikum” (“Don Quixote and the Public”), published in the arts and cultural journal Die Rheinlande in 1912, was almost unknown in literary studies for a century.3 Schmitt’s text on the novel by Miguel de Cervantes has not been reprinted, and until recently it had not been translated from the original German. Size has a role too. At under two thousand words, the text has probably escaped notice due to its small scale.4 Recent English and Italian translations in major humanistic journals may signal the end of its obscurity though.5 “Don Quixote and the Public” is at the door of literary studies. The question now is not whether to respond, but how. (shrink)

ExcerptOver the past decade, class divisions have grown across the globe. This class structure is not exactly like that described in Marx’s time; it is more complex, shaped by both new technology and the legacy of globalization.

ExcerptAlain de Benoist, Ernst Jünger: Between the Gods & the Titans. Edited by Greg Johnson. Translated by Greg Johnson and F. Roger Devlin. Budapest: Middle Europe Books, 2022. Pp. 180. The central figure in Alain de Benoist’s introductory volume on the life and work of Ernst Jünger is the Worker. He is an intelligent anchor for the volume, for he, of all of Jünger’s metaphorical symbols, most extensively occupies his thoughts throughout his long career. He also most fully characterizes modernity: (...) first its glorious promise, later its potential horror. Introduced in Jünger’s book of the same name in 1932, the Worker is the dominant figure of our time. Benoist writes that the Worker subsumes “all creation aimed at giving form to the world, all affirmation of power, all expenditure of energy.” In this sense, the Worker dominates modernity because the productive spirit—the belief that one can will into existence that which one conceives—dominates modernity. Titanic factories, new political systems, an interconnected world state: these ambitious projects of the time are the realization of this figure. (shrink)

ExcerptWeak government is a negation of liberty.Francis LieberAfter the experiences of the past generation, it should be apparent that all too much of liberal internationalist thinking in America is not “internationalist” in any real sense at all. Internationalism, if it is to have any meaning as a word, must mean peace and cooperation between different nations, which by nature will have not merely different interests that must be reconciled but different political systems that must coexist.

ExcerptWe often have the experience of intuiting something without being able to precisely define what that intuition is. Sometimes this intuition leads to a more well-defined insight, and sometimes it might lead to some kind of action, even in the absence of clear conceptual definitions. Yet it is difficult to ascertain what kind of knowledge or awareness such intuitions consist of. What is an intuition as opposed to a defined concept of something? How seriously should we take such intuitions? Are (...) they something separate and qualitatively different than concepts? Are they just fuzzy concepts? Do they really exist at all? These are crucial questions because they lead to conclusions about the status of concepts themselves. If the alternative to clear concepts is nothing at all, then the sociopolitical corollary would be that the alternative to conceptual knowledge and the holders of such knowledge would also be nothing at all. By contrast, if intuitions are separate from concepts and real, then expert knowledge might possibly have some deficiencies in comparison with intuitions. The essays in this issue of Telos explore in one way or another this question of the status of conceptual knowledge as opposed to intuitive awareness. (shrink)

I. The Paradox of “Judgment” and Pre-reflective Self-AwarenessIn “Fichte’s Original Insight” (1982), Dieter Henrich, the founder of the Heidelberg School, delivered a diagnosis of why three hundred years of Western explication of the internal structure of subjectivity proved to be fruitless. As Manfred Frank noted, “Seldom has so much food for thought been put in a nutshell.”1 Fichte had the “insight” that his predecessors, in their totality (and “nearly all his successors”2), including Kant, misconceived the reality of our self-consciousness as (...) reflection, and thus fell prey to circular reasoning. A subject’s reflection on its own identity is impossible, since it can gain awareness of this identity only if it previously possessed some immediate knowledge of itself. Therefore, (self-)consciousness should not be conceived within the framework of the “reflection model,” which possesses an inherent contradiction, but rather as pre-reflective in nature, and as such it must be postulated by our thought. This is not to say that reflective consciousness—“egological” consciousness, the “reflection model of consciousness,” the “higher-order” theory of consciousness—i.e., the cogito, is impossible, but merely to highlight that its logical foundation cannot be justified by itself and that it essentially depends on the pre-reflective sphere of our psychic lives.3. (shrink)

ExcerptDrawing on the quasi-legal human experimentation programs designed and implemented by the CIA between the 1950s and 1970s, the television series Severance envisions the possible corporate uses of brainwashing and mind control. The narrative centers on employees of a technology company, Lumon Industries, who agree to undergo a medical procedure (“severance”) that separates non-work memories from work memories by implanting a microchip into the brain. Unfolding like a science fiction psychological thriller, the narration falls somewhere between omniscient and restricted. Viewers (...) at the outset know only slightly more about the non-work lives and histories of the characters than the characters’ work-day versions, while the gradual increase of viewer knowledge parallels that of the characters’ paths toward self-discovery. (shrink)

ExcerptNarrative today is a commanding term for individual and group definition. Within literature and literary discussions, narrative structure has been treated in increasingly complex and multifaceted ways. However, as narrative has moved from literature into wider cultural circulation, such multiplicity and complexity can be lost. Narrative is embraced as the form in which experience takes meaningful shape. Each individual or each group has a story as their version of who they are, interpreted in each one’s terms and affirming each one’s (...) right to such interpretation. On the one hand, this promises the airing and sharing of viewpoints and versions on the part of each self or group. On the other hand, certain tendencies and implications of narrative structure close off each version from the others. Narrative can then become a claim to one’s own story in ways that refuse the stories of others. Instead of interchange among many voices in an open forum, what emerge are competitive accounts that deny the validity of the accounts of others. (shrink)

1. IntroductionFirst and foremost, the public sphere is the sphere of our social life. Social media’s naturally low barrier to entry and strong participatory attributes have made it more deeply rooted in human social life than any other media before it. Consequently, many scholars have put forward views and theories arguing that the web is essentially a public sphere.