Kierkegaard does not deny the existence of an absolute truth, only suggests that we cannot ever reach it objectively. In thinking about absolute truth, Plato’s forms come to mind—the idea that there is some absolute, conclusive definition of love or truth or any other abstraction floating around in the cosmos, seems sort of silly, but is that really what we mean by “truth”? What do we mean? We can argue all day long about the semantics of the issue, but Kierkegaard skips over the question of the absolute, because to him, it is of much less importance. There might be absolute Truth, but we’ll never know it, or at least, we will never be able to prove it exists. The way each of us perceives reality is too individual, too subjective, always colored through the lens of our upbringing, cultural norms, social conditioning, etc. For Kierkegaard (and Dostoevsky), “only in subjectivity is their decision” because objectivity is certain knowledge, while decisions are based in uncertainty.
I recently watched a documentary on the Lacanian-Marxist philosopher Slovaj Zizek titled Zizek!. He has some interesting things to say about philosophy’s role, specifically in relation to this question of absolute Truth. Below is a clip from the documentary in which he addresses this (pay particular attention to 00:26-03:22) as well as a brief mention of Lacan’s reversal of Dostoevsky’s well-known tenet, “If God does not exist, then everything is permitted” (03:22-07:20).
Slovaj Zizek argues that philosophy is not concerned with the question of truth, “the question is, ‘what do you mean when you say this is true?’” Sound familiar? To paraphrase Kierkegaard: what is important is not what you say but how you say it. Truth, as well as meaning, is rooted in individual experience. As we’ve already discussed in class, we create meaning for ourselves, whether we are conscious of it or not. Zizek argues that though we live in a “free” society, where enjoyment is not prohibited, in reality, our enjoyment is prohibited because of our (subconscious) guilt.
Considering we are reading Nietzsche next, I found this excerpt from Zizek’s “How to Read Lacan” particularly pertinent:
“The modern atheist thinks he knows that God is dead; what he doesn't know is that, unconsciously, he continues to believe in God. What characterizes modernity is no longer the standard figure of the believer who secretly harbors intimate doubts about his belief and engages in transgressive fantasies; today, we have, on the contrary, a subject who presents himself as a tolerant hedonist dedicated to the pursuit of happiness, and whose unconscious is the site of prohibitions: what is repressed are not illicit desires or pleasures, but prohibitions themselves. "If God doesn't exist, then everything is prohibited" means that the more you perceive yourself as an atheist, the more your unconscious is dominated by prohibitions which sabotage your enjoyment. (One should not forget to supplement this thesis with its opposite: if God exists, then everything is permitted - is this not the most succinct definition of the religious fundamentalist's predicament? For him, God fully exists, he perceives himself as His instrument, which is why he can do whatever he wants, his acts are in advance redeemed, since they express the divine will...)
Instead of bringing freedom, the fall of the oppressive authority thus gives rise to new and more severe prohibitions. How are we to account for this paradox? Think of the situation known to most of us from our youth: the unfortunate child who, on Sunday afternoon, has to visit his grandmother instead of being allowed to play with friends. The old-fashioned authoritarian father's message to the reluctant boy would have been: "I don't care how you feel. Just do your duty, go to grandmother and behave there properly!" In this case, the child's predicament is not bad at all: although forced to do something he clearly doesn't want to, he will retain his inner freedom and the ability to (later) rebel against the paternal authority. Much more tricky would have been the message of a "postmodern" non-authoritarian father: "You know how much your grandmother loves you! But, nonetheless, I do not want to force you to visit her - go there only if you really want to!" Every child who is not stupid (and as a rule they are definitely not stupid) will immediately recognize the trap of this permissive attitude: beneath the appearance of a free choice there is an even more oppressive demand than the one formulated by the traditional authoritarian father, namely an implicit injunction not only to visit the grandmother, but to do it voluntarily, out of the child's own free will. Such a false free choice is the obscene superego injunction: it deprives the child even of his inner freedom, ordering him not only what to do, but what to want to do.”
By reducing our choices, desires, impulses, etc., to mere psychoanalytic categories (i.e., the superego injunction), is Zizek committing the same crime as the scientific/naturalist reductionists whom Dostoevsky is condemning for reducing us to algorithms? According to Dostoevsky, humankind will always chose to exercise free will, to make a choice, even if that choice is irrational. But what if that choice, is only the illusion of a choice? That is, by making a choice in which you think you are exerting your individuality and independence, you are actually perpetuating power relations within the system. Does it matter? Is there a way to take the red pill and escape the matrix, if our very desires and choices are artificial? Cheesy pop-culture references aside, another way to pose the question is this: are our choices legitimate if we cannot separate them from those things that externally or internally inform our choices? Does it even matter that the individuality we exert in free will is derived from these modes of control? Is it then, still individuality? Is there any way to escape that control?
*Disclaimer* Most of the time, I have no idea what I actually think, so don't take this too seriously.
2 comments:
"After all, if desire should at any time come to terms completely with reason, we shall then, of course, reason and not desire, simply because after all, it will be impossible to retain reason and desire something senseless, and in that way knowingly act against reason and desire to injure ourselves. And as all choice and reasoning can really be calculated, because some day they will discover the laws of our so-called free will…" (Dostoevsky, 44)
In response Kelie, I want to ask, not whether or not it is indeed impossible to retain reason and desire something senseless or even whether or not reason and desire is the same for everyone or if it is something that is conditioned by your circumstances and entirely thus entirely subjective--but rather, what Zizek is telling us to ask is, (I think) what does it mean for you to have reason or desire? How does that change you as a human being? Does it enable you to respond to a situation? Because, even if our truth is subjective, our humanity--our ability to reason and desire pleasure and/or pain--is what offers us some semblance of hope in a world where freedom is more terrifying than constraint; it is what convinces us that we do not live in a matrix, but in a world where we have free reign over choice.
An aside comment--if you watched the Zizek video--what is your response to the question he poses, "How do we account for this paradox that the absence of law universalizes prohibition?" And moreover, what is your response to his naming the injunction- the superego. If we have free reign over choice, do we have the ability to control the superego? Specifically in light of Eastern religion and denying the ego…can we as humans truly deny the desire for enjoyment, and according to Dostoevsky, will we ever rationally choose to deny enjoyment? And really, does enjoyment, i.e. the obscene call of the superego, fall under the category of something that is reasoned or desired?
"But what if that choice, is only the illusion of a choice? That is, by making a choice in which you think you are exerting your individuality and independence, you are actually perpetuating power relations within the system. Does it matter? Is there a way to take the red pill and escape the matrix, if our very desires and choices are artificial? Cheesy pop-culture references aside, another way to pose the question is this: are our choices legitimate if we cannot separate them from those things that externally or internally inform our choices? Does it even matter that the individuality we exert in free will is derived from these modes of control? Is it then, still individuality? Is there any way to escape that control?"
Humans are social creatures. Everything we do and learn is in relation or in context of something. We have layer upon layer of social constructions and customs all around which we rarely question or are even aware of. Choice can never be separated from the context in which that choice is made. Perhaps free will is not always individuality per se (by this I mean we are not the only ones to exert our free will in this way), but maybe it is, for us in that situation, the most unique and radical expression we of our free will that can be made under the circumstances. Even if the decision one makes perpetuates the power relations within said system (and this is a point of contention, but I'll leave it for now), it is plausible that for you as an individual in your specific scenario are expressing your free will in a way that is still drastically different from the norm. It seems as if you are attempting to show humans as conditioned and habituated beings with a (small) list of possible reactions which we falsely believe to be "choices," and I feel this is a broad generalization and simplification of the choices that can be made in one's life.
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