Michael and I made a late-night trip to Wendy's on Thursday evening, and we talked about the stigma that comes with Existentialist philosophy. This came up in class, too, when Dr. J told us about how the other professors she eats with crack jokes about existentialism like "why don't you just skip class and let them figure out what it means."
So most folks have a sort of general, half-baked idea of existentialism. Just to get an idea of it, here are the top three definitions of existentialism from Urban Dictionary (www.urbandictionary.com):
1. "you can use this word in pretty much any context and it will make you sound pretentious and/or confuse the person you're talking to." (strangely enough posted by someone with the handle "kierkegaard.")
2. "there is no spoon"
3."Existentialism in its purest form is any philosophy which states that existence precedes essence; that is to say, that there is no inherent purpose in life (though normally this is not carried through to nihilism.). It also states that the physical world does not necessarily precede the conscious state, as a conscious mind must find itself in a world to attain consciousness in any meaningful state."
So the third one is kind of getting closer to it, but we don't ever really get a satisfying description (number 5 talks about personal choice, but that's about it). The popular view of existentialism, I think, largely comes from very vague knowledge of certain phrases from Nietzsche and Sartre—from Nietzsche, "god is dead;" from Sartre, "hell is other people". Taken out of context, both of these bites just sound depressing, little maxims for pissed-off fifteen-year-olds. And that's enough for a lot of people to write it off as nihilistic, dark, and inexcusably French.
I think that the root of all this is the existentialist assertion that life has no inherent meaning—key word there being INHERENT. A month or so ago, the Sou'Wester published an editorial by a kid who was railing against postmodernism, reducing it to the idea that life is meaningless. It was a bad article, but it got me a bit riled. It basically positions postmodernism (which is broad and has enough problems on its own) or existentialism as synonyms for nihilism. Just because life has no inherent meaning doesn't mean we get to just throw up our hands and say "whatever."
So I wonder if there's much we can do to change the misconception. Existential thought is so ingrained in art and media that we don't even realize it most of the time. I've been thinking for a while about how art can be used to explain philosophical ideas; right now the popular conception of philosophy in general is a lot like the popular conception of existentialism: pretentious, boring, and pretty much useless if you want a job that pays money. So I wonder if it's possible to present philosophy in such a way that it reveals itself to the reader in a transparent, organic way. Consider the Bible: it's a collection of stories that, in it's own bizarre way, gives certain people an idea of the nature of being and an ethical system. It's the best-selling book of all time. So why can't we do the same things with philosophy through narrative?
On the other hand, why should I be concerned with how others see philosophy, or how they see me in light of it? Why am I annoyed by it? Should I feel any responsibility to change something that likely won't be changed?
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9 comments:
I can understand your frustration with snide comments such as those Dr. J described from faculty members, and the definitions from urbandictionary's entertaining but questionable website. I think sentiments such as these are just another form of ignorance, plain and simple. While I had only a very basic concept of Existentialism before our class, I made an effort to be receptive to the ideas and forms of existentialist thought, something which not all people are willing to do. Sometimes it is more beneficial for a person's fundamental argument to present a cartoony and wholly inadequate definition of a concept. I really can understand why you get riled up by things like this, and my only advice to you would be to ignore those who want to stay ignorant about existential principles, and offer what you can to those who actually want to learn. Don't let them see you sweat.
Confession: I was actually one of those people who would have considered Existentialism pointless. I thought that reading The Stranger and Waiting for Godot in high school would be enough to render me well read on the subject, and my inability to understand most of what was going on caused me to lash out against the philosophy. I despised Existentialism because I sincerely thought that because I didn't comprehend the point of either of those works, Existentialist philosophers were just babbling on about impractical, completely inconsequential things. My disdain for the philosophy was based on my ignorance. Perhaps it was a way of shielding myself from the idea that perhaps if I didn't understand something, that something couldn't possibly matter. Now that I've taken (most of) the course, I realize how much I really agree with and respect many of the Existentialist authors. They seriously are so badass. That's what Existentialism is--a badass philosophy. You're responsible for all that you do. That's so practical.
As for the caring what the misinformed think, well, I'd care. I'd hate to be reduced to a useless, socially draining organism. The Gaze sucks.
Of course, I am sympathetic with your frustrations. (I'm also slightly amused that you begin your story with a trip to Wendy's, which serves as a kind of dangling and incomplete--dare I say, absurd?--reference!)
Incidentally, I have the same frustration with pop/cartoony understandings of "deconstruction." Many people say "deconstruction" when they really mean "destruction," evidencing a fundamental misunderstanding of a very complicated philosophy. Evidence: On Project Runway, designs are often described as "deconstructed" when what they mean is really "torn up into shreds."
Alas...
I'm going to have to sympathize somewhat with Christine in that my first experience with existentialism was with that cartoony, watered-down version that really didn't even begin to explain the philosophy. I could barely make the connection between the over-simplified definition of existentialism my high school english teacher gave me and the themes I was suppose to be gathering from The Stranger. Even now, close to the end of this course, I'm still trying to figure out how to summarize existentialism in a simple tag-line, but I really don't think it can be done. I'm going to have to agree with everyone else that the negative stigma that comes along with existentialism is due mainly to ignorance. I also think that ignorance is hard to combat because people aren't interested in learning more about what sounds like "depressing, little maxims for pissed-off fifteen-year-olds," as Mark so eloquently puts it. If they only knew what they were really missing out on...
Maybe I am the only one that finds this highly ironic, but the same people that are seeking to ridicule existentialism and propagate cartoony versions of it are the exact people (Das Man) that Heidegger was criticizing. The They tell spread the word that existentialism is defunct and full of "depressing, little maxims for pissed-off fifteen-year-olds," and the They accept. I think your annoyance of "the Gaze" is felt becuaase you know that the "Gazer" is irresponsible, in so far as they have not taken the time to acquire knowledge about existentialism. This appears to be an absurd Kafka-esque situation, because it feels hopeless that this won't be changed, but that shirks responsibility. Some revolt is in order, and I suppose that raising awareness is the best that I can accomplish. That way, at least I have assumed some responsibility.
I am in no way a philosophy major (French major, actually), and this class was a voluntary sign up because I was so interested in Existentialism. However, I comprehend the frustration and irritation over the preconceived notions of many people when you say the word existentialism, or even to some extent, philosophy. While some people act like they are too good for philosophy and others just think that existentialism is all about suicide, neither group recognizes the importance of philosophy in life, especially the pertinence of existentialism in everyday life and situations. Like Christine said - you're responsible for all that you do and all the actions that you take, which is one thing most people need to learn. Instead of making excuses, you own up to what you do - a novel idea!
As for the many ignorant people out there, I would say who cares - you cannot take the time to worry about them and their ignorance or stupidity. Afterall, as an existentialist, you are busy taking responsibility for your own life and your choices.
I recently bought seven black turtlenecks, a beret, and a carton of cigarettes. Not really, but if I did it would be in bad faith anyone. I am not an actor playing a role of a thing I think I should be. That would be not being in the mode of being it-- certainly inauthentic. Be like Nietzsche' superman and only care for the people on your level.
I picked up a copy of L. Frank Baum's "Life and Adventures of Santa Claus" at a thrift store not too long ago to prepare for the holiday season. Thinking about reading the book has spurred me toward thinking about Baum's other book, "The Wizard of Oz."
You say, and I agree, that the absence of any INHERENT meaning in the world does not mean that we can throw up our hands and forfeit. I think of the "no inherent meaning" disillusionment like the revelation Dorothy has when she discovers that the Wizard of Oz is no magnificent, magical figure at all, but simply a man, an ordinary person.
[Wikipedia]: They are outraged at the deception, but the wizard solves their problems through common sense rather than magic. He explains that they already had what they had been searching for all along and only need things such as medals and diplomas to confirm that someone else recognizes it.
So though there is no magic, no man behind the curtain, no God, no plan for your life, and no inherent meaning to anything, it does not mean that the things we wanted out of such critters or ideas are suddenly unattainable and cause for alarm (read: depression). Instead, we ought to take comfort in the fact that we had the ruby slippers, the diplomas, the heart-clocks, and the medals the entire time and have been perfectly capable of using them, we just needed someone else (read: Dr. J) to point it out to us.
P.S. Wendy's was good.
And also, I think the fact that I have constructed a blog post around a book/film demonstrates the inclination you and I both share to combine art with philosophy in order to make the latter more effective.
What do you think about the idea of philosophy being best when it is masked by art in such a way that you the "learning" doesn't even distract you? Does the pill go down easier when it is wrapped in a ball of bread?
When you really sit back and think about the idea of 'inherent meaning'--that things, experiences, life has some kind of essence, something meaningful in and of itself, it is really rather silly. Of course we ascribe meaning to things rather than just read some meaning already present. The affect of this realization can be twofold: 1) it can be incredibly empowering (as those existentialists we've read have tried to teach us, or 2) it can be incredibly scary because it comes back to that notion of ultimate responsibility.
There's another side to it (and I think this is people's main (often mis)understanding of existentialism/postmodernism) and that is if each person makes meaning for him or herself, then there is no universal (moral/ethical) standard to which we can hold people. Rather, each person is individually responsible for his or her actions. That scares people because they don't trust others to act in responsible ways. This is why collectively as a society we have laws (of course this is problematic as well, but that's another story). I think people misunderstand because they see existentialism/postmodernism as a radical ("lazy") relativism where anything goes because everything is constructed. But they forget that just because morals are constructed (remember Nietzsche? They have a history) doesn't mean that people can just choose to ignore them because they are collective agreed-upon constructions.
Here's an example: we all know that time is a human construct. That doesn't mean that I can just decide to ignore it or make up my own system. I mean, hypothetically I could, but I wouldn't be able to function as a viable subject in society. Now if collectively there was a movement to alter our time system (a small example might be daylight savings time) then the structure can be altered. This is what I was trying to get at with my post about Foucault and Butler--if something is constructed, then it allows the possibility for deconstruction (not really in the Derridean sense but, you get my drift) and reconstruction. So yes, there is hope for change.
I was having dinner last night at Judy Haas' house with our feminist theory class. Prof Haas made a comment that I thought both witty and enlightening, and pertinent to this conversation:
"Well, yes, we understand that patriarchy is a social construction that can be changed, but it's constructed REALLY REALLY well."
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