During my blogging hiatus I gave a short response to Catherine Malabou’s philosophy at an event called ‘Bodies in Movement’. My remarks focused on the resonances between plasticity and the apocalyptic. The event helped me solidify some key aspects of my PhD, especially the contrast between eschatological and apocalyptic political theologies and the connections between Bloch, Taubes and Malabou as readers of Hegel. There are recordings from the event available here.
As I’ve mentioned before, my job at Chichester is to design a BA in Philosophy and Ethics. In the past I’ve been a TA on ethics modules at Durham. I’ve also taught modules that deal with ethics at Roehampton. ‘Human Rights and Religion’ isn’t an ethics course, but there is a strong ethics component (discussions of otherness, end of life issues, etc.). The same could be said for ‘Religion and Violence’ in which we spent a third of the term effectively discussing whether or not one could ever ethically engage in violent actions.
But I’ve never really stopped to consider the nature of ethics as such. I was unpacking my office the other day and came across Badiou’s Ethics: An Essay on the Understanding of Evil. I haven’t read Badiou since the beginning of my PhD (2009) and I had forgotten how seductive he could be.
For Badiou, we do not have ‘an’ ethic. There are always ‘ethics’. Or, put another way, we always have an ethic of truths. Ethics are not an end in themselves, but describe a relation to truth. As Peter Hallward summarises in the introduction:
An ethic of truths, then, is designed to cultivate: a sense of discernment (do not confuse the true and the false); courage and endurance (do not betray the true); moderation and restraint (resist the idea of total or ‘substantial’ truth).
Badiou’s analysis of contemporary ethics continues to be compelling, particularly his point about ethics privileging evil over good. He’s more or less restating the difference between positive and negative freedom – too much of our analysis of rights and cultural difference (the two dominant themes of contemporary ethics in Badiou’s mind) focuses on minimising evil rather than maximising good.
In the course of this small book, two things stand out. First, ethics are a process or mode of deliberation, rather than a set of established values. Ethics rooted in natural law, for example, are insufficient for they always reinscribe the ‘state of the situation’. Here, Badiou articulates a view close to the way I want to read Hegel. There is a fundamentally contingent and tenuous process which we can observe and describe, but remains uncontrollable. There is a persistent and disruptive negativity which unsettles any attempt to cease the process.
Second, Badiou argues that ethics must proceed with the aim of being indifferent to difference. This point is at the heart of his dismissal of multiculturalism. Badiou is more less in agreement with one of Zizek’s more controversial points – the critique of identity politics (an excellent rebuttal to Zizek can be found here). In the rush to identify a universal political project, both Badiou and Zizek conflate identity politics and recognition, which only further confuses the issue. Leaving Zizek to the side for the moment, I want to briefly try to redeem part of Badiou’s argument.
Badiou seems to argue that differences are inconsequential. An alternative way of reading his argument would be to claim that differences are either inconsequential or identifications of truths. Take homosexuality – debates focusing on sexual difference/sameness would seem to indulge in the ethics of multiculturalism that Badiou dismisses. There are three ways of reacting to these debates:
- There are no such differences – we are all the same (liberal response)
- These differences are inconsequential (obvious Badiou reading)
- These differences are indicative of truths
If we follow Badiou’s truth procedures, it seems clear that debates about homosexuality indicate something about the nature of love. Indeed, a common complaint about gay political action over the past few years is that it has eclipsed important queer critiques of the nuclear family, monogamy, gender roles and so on. So the identity politics arising from LGBTQ are an ethic of truths of love. Put in a more Badiouian fashion, queer politics expresses something presently inexpressible in the state of the erotic situation.
The same could be said of the post-colonial critiques Badiou dismisses. If these critiques are attempts at gaining recognition, Badiou has a point (though is wanting to be recognised such a terrible goal? I understand Badiou’s frustration with ethics aimed at gaining a place within the existing state of the situation, but it’s easy to lob criticisms at such ethics when you occupy a place of relative privilege). If post-colonial critiques are instead rejections of the political and economic systems motivating and living off of colonial relations (and the resultant relations of dependency and control), then post-colonialism is indicative of truths. Put another way, why does Badiou choose Spivak as the face of post-colonialism rather than someone like Fanon?
The problem with this argument is that the truth event of love is not, strictly speaking, political for Badiou. This is one of my long standing critiques of Badiou – I fail to see how any truth is not ultimately political. To reorder or destroy a situation in order to give voice to that which cannot be expressed is always political.
Here’s my finalised schedule. I’ll say a bit more about my reasoning at the bottom. The module meets once a week for 2 hours.
Week 1 – Introduction
In class reading, selection from Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
Week 2 – Augustine and Plantinga
Platinga, The Nature of Necessity, 164-190
Week 3 – Irenaeaus and Hick
John Hick, ‘An Irenaean Theodicy’ in Encountering Evil: Live Options in Theodicy, 39-69.
Week 4 – Hume and Pike
Formative Assessment 1 – Summarise one classical response to the problem of evil. Include references to one contemporary version or critique. This may not be a pair that we have discussed in class.
Week 5 – Surin
Theology and the Problem of Evil, Introduction, pp. 1-37
Week 6 – Surin
Theology and the Problem of Evil, Theodicies with a ‘Practical Emphasis’, 112-142
Week 7 – Reading Week
Formative Assessment 2 – Summarise a theodicy with a practical emphasis. This may not be one mentioned in Surin’s book.
Week 8 – Zygmunt Baumann
Week 9 – Gender and the Problem of Evil
Robin May Schott, ‘Evil, Terrorism and Gender’, Feminist Philosophy and the Problem of Evil
Week 10 – Race and the Problem of Evil
James Cone, ‘God in Black Theology’ in A Black Theology of Liberation, 55-82
Week 11– Concluding discussion
Meillassoux, ‘The Spectral Dilemma’
I had hoped to include a straightforwardly post-colonial analysis of the problem of evil, but wasn’t able to find one. Postcolonial Philosophy of Religion includes an essay that discusses this a bit (‘What is the “Subaltern” of Philosophy of Religion?’), but it only amounts to a 1/3 or so of the essay. I was surprised by my inability to find a straightforward essay/chapter to fill this need in the module. It may be that I’m just not looking in the right places. Searching for theodicy or the problem of evil combined with Fanon, Said, Bhabha, postcolonialism and subaltern all produced occasional references, but not sustained critiques.
I think Cone will help students think through related problems. The problem with teaching black theologies of liberation is that they tend to be very culturally specific to the US. I think many of these issues resonate with concerns here in the UK, but it adds an extra layer of excuses (‘we don’t have those problems here’). Even though that’s not the case, it means that you have to spend doing extra work demonstrating that the UK is not a post-racial society. I’m happy to do that work, but post-colonial analyses tend to hit closer to home (at least for white students).
I’m uncertain of the Schott essay. The book hasn’t arrived, so I’m working off of reviews and snippets of her other writings. Someone like Rosemary Radford Ruether would be an alternative (and would challenge students), but I want to avoid the class being focused entirely on the problem of evil as a problem for theology or philosophy of religion (which is really philosophy of theism). I’ll have time to change the reading if I’m unsatisfied after the book has been delivered.
Each of the weeks will include supplemental resources including other academic works, things taken from the news and the occasional film or television reference. For instance, in the last week I’ll ask students to also read Peter Thompson’s two columns in the Guardian on confronting terminal illness as an atheist. Badiou has a chapter in his Ethics that talks about the problem of evil in a way which resonates with Baumann. I was tempted to just assign the Badiou reading, but I think it would be a little much. Students won’t have been introduced to ‘continental’ philosophy yet and I think they would be thrown by all the talk of the state of the situation and sets.
Each week I’ll provide 3-4 questions to guide their reading. Students will be required to come to class with a question to pose to the rest of the group and our session will begin by working through these issues.
There are already things I would like to change for future years, but I’m not sure if the module will continue in this form. For now, I think it strikes a good balance between what they expect (Plantinga and Hick) and pushing them to think about evil in new and interesting ways. Feel free to correct me though – if I’ve left anything out or am otherwise ruining the education of my students let me know in the comments.
I picked up Badiou’s Ethics yesterday and came across this great footnote. It’s in reference to Hegel’s division of morals and ethics, in which ‘the ethical order essentially consists in the immediate firmness of decision':
The whole of this section of the Phenomenology is difficult, but very suggestive.
That should be the tagline of the Phenomenology in general – difficult, but very suggestive.
Due to some ill advised twitter link following, I found myself reading a couple of posts (1 and 2) on Faith and Theology. Ben Myers was detailing his shift away from his earlier endorsement of apocalypticism:
It’s hard to say exactly why I first got interested in apocalyptic ideas. In part, I suppose, it was ordinary youthful iconoclasm. All young people, young men in particular, feel a certain resentment towards the status quo and a certain seething desire to imprint their own will on to the order of things. Call it a rage against mortality. Anyway, when you allow that kind of resentment to guide your thinking, you easily end up with what Augustine called the libido dominandi, the lust to master reality and to make it conform to your own ideals.It seems to me that quite a lot of what passes for philosophy and theology in our time is really an expression of such enraged libido. Marxist ideology, which I cherished for the first decade of my adult life, seems an especially insidious version of the lust to dominate. It is an ideology of resentment against the way things are, mixed with gnostic-magical beliefs that human nature is capable of transfiguration. In its consistent forms this ideology shows itself to be more than willing to destroy human society first so that the transfigured human being can arise like a phoenix from the ashes.
The NDPR has up a review of Unger’s new The Religion of the Future. Unger is someone I’m only vaguely aware of – he comes up in relation to Enrique Dussel and Eduardo Mendieta. This new book sounds interesting though. Here are some choice bits of the review:
Why do we need religious talk now to focus our freedom? Unger’s argument depends on the case he can make for religion’s privileged relationship to freedom. That he tries to make such a case distinguishes his project from many others concerning freedom that accept broadly humanistic assumptions. The core of the book can be seen as Unger’s attempt to free religion enough from its traditional connotations that he can work out the relationship. What he seems to maintain is the utopian moment in the religiousness of, say, Paul (281-82), converted to his activist vision: “the form of the world is passing away” (1 Corinthians 7:31) — only if we make it so.
This freedom must be marshalled in the face of a set of anxieties. These anxieties amount to a constant belittlement. Humanity must confront its role in fashioning itself in the face of this situation.
The common thread among the needs Unger assumes is our critical subjectivity. It is only because it is up to us to think about how we should live that we do not accept a fixed way to live, i.e., that the sense of life is open to revision constantly. It is not because existence is groundless that we are self-conscious, but because we are self-conscious, deciding what seems best, that existence must be given grounds, constantly.
The review is fairly critical, but it would be interesting to see someone outside the continental tradition toying with the concept of religion in this way.