A last reflection on 2015

My previous post focused on my own experience of 2015, mainly from the viewpoint of how my work agenda panned out (though I did also mention family issues).

I keep private matters fairly private, but I'll just say that I appreciate the support that I've had from so many loved ones, friends, and colleagues through 2015. It's much appreciated, and I couldn't be doing any of this without you.

I suffered a mild but persistent illness through several weeks over the winter, which didn't make my efforts during that period, when I was under work pressure, any easier. For a while, I had an annoying dose of conjunctivitis on top of it. I've also been dealing with a couple of other minor health issues in the past month or two. Hopefully, those will soon be behind me. Generally speaking, I'm in good health despite not exactly getting any younger these days, so I'm looking forward to a few productive decades yet.

Much has been written about Australian and international politics as it unfolded through 2015. Now and then, I've commented on particular issues, especially the Charlie Hebdo murders. I wrote an unusually long op-ed for Free Inquiry - behind a paywall, alas - and I followed up some months later with the Cogito piece mentioned in my previous post. I was especially dismayed, though not especially surprised, at the barrage of commentators who went close to saying the Charlie Hebdo contributors had it coming, and in any event that the publication is a racist one that does not deserve solidarity. Those commentators deserve a hall of shame of their own. (I wasn't especially surprised because so much of this resembled a replay of what happened to Salman Rushdie in 1989, sparked by the fatwa that followed publication of The Satanic Verses.)

This raises larger questions about cultural critique. All too often, we see shallow criticism of cultural products (books, movies, magazines, video games, songs, etc.) based on cheaply learned ideology rather than genuine understanding or even basic fairness. As I concluded in my Cogito piece on Charlie Hebdo, we must try to do better than this:

Fair, useful cultural criticism should display some humility in the face of art. It should be grounded in an understanding of context and the relevant styles and traditions of expression. If we propose to engage in critique of cultural products, we had better show some complexity and generosity of response. That is how we earn our places in serious cultural conversations.

More generally, there is at least a broad sense in which I belong to the political Left. If I were in charge of a nation's economy, I would seek workable but effective means to redistribute income and assets, try to compress the current huge inequalities of wealth, provide a strong socio-economic safety net, and generally advance the opportunities of those classes who are financially least advantaged. In philosophical theory, I'd not even rule out (plainly, genuinely) socialist approaches; but in real-world politics, I'm very much a pragmatic social democrat. You could vote for me without worrying that I'd scare the horses! My model would be Australia's (generally) successful Hawke-Keating ALP governments of the 1980s and early 1990s.

And meanwhile, no one should doubt where I stand on such hot-button social issues as gay rights and women's reproductive rights - both of which I've supported strongly over the years, privately and publicly.

But while I am of the Left in a broad sense, I'm not prepared to accept every bizarre ideological outgrowth of identity politics, every propagandist catchphrase that becomes popular ("check your privilege", "Islamophobia", "safe space"), or every attempt to "call out", shame, and otherwise harm some poor individual of whom the self-righteous make a public example (usually for some minor, dubious, or imaginary transgression, or for some moderate dissent from a local party line).

It's clear that there are regressive tendencies within the Left, especially within its academic and cultural manifestations. They include the kind of anti-science nonsense famously satirised by Alan Sokal in the 1990s. Though wounded, this form of weirdness has not completely gone away. Among other regressive tendencies, there's too much solicitude on the Left toward religion: the kind of solicitude that leads to perfectly rational criticism of religious faith being labelled as "strident" (however mild it might actually be in tone), and that has made criticism of Islam and Islamism almost taboo in many left-wing circles. Often, too, there's a distasteful paternalism and authoritarianism within the contemporary Left.

Such concerns led me to republish (in slightly abbreviated form) my 1999 essay, "The Left's Defection from Progress", which deals with at least some aspects of the academic and cultural Left's tendency to abandon Enlightenment ideals. Seventeen years later, I would probably write this essay in a slightly different way, partly because my own thinking has developed in that time - how could it not? - and partly because the issues have evolved. Still, I think I was seeing something important and troubling in early 1999.

I saw an escalation of problems in about 2011 - particularly a sudden acceleration in what came to be termed call-out culture, as left-wing rage bloggers and Twitter mobs became aggressively unfair, intolerant, and savage in going after their own philosophical and social allies. This trend has only grown worse, but in 2015 it was finally acknowledged as a problem by mainstream progressive journalists.

I expect that I'll be spending much of 2016 writing about these sorts of issues. The Left's ongoing regressive tendencies have the effect of silencing many decent, progressive people: men and women who are justifiably afraid to offer commonsense views on a wide range of topics, from the role of religion to bioethical decisions and policies. In recent years, many individuals have confided in me about aspects of this, and why they keep a low profile on various topics. They fear being "called out", ostracised, damaged in their careers, etc., by others whom they regard as their own people. As a result, sensible liberal views from more-or-less left-leaning thinkers are often not receiving their due weight in public discussion, creating something of a vacuum.

But the other effect is that this sort of nonsense tends to bring the Left as a whole into disrepute with ordinary citizens and electors who are not academics, journalists, etc., making it all the more difficult to oppose genuinely irresponsible and dangerous figures on the political Right. It would be hyperbole to blame the Left for the extreme turn that we've seen of late, with near-fascist opinions and policies being espoused by many current Republican candidates for the US presidency. Doubtless, many factors are involved. It surely can't help the cultural mood, though, when the range of intelligent voices on the Left is restricted by the ideology, propaganda, and sheer cruelty that characterises so much of the Left these days - especially as manifested in the social media and on many university campuses in the US and UK - and when so much left-wing thought appears illiberal, nitpicking, or simply incredible.

Let's hope that we get through 2016 with some success in pushing back against these unfortunate tendencies. I'll continue to criticise ideologues and propagandists. I'll oppose rage bloggers and Twitter mobs.

Above all, though, given what's at stake globally, I also hope that the US manages - at election time later in 2016 - to choose a president who is not one or another kind of dangerous clown or loose cannon.

Happy New Year!

Why I still support Charlie Hebdo

Russell Blackford, University of Newcastle

You know the shocking story: in January 2015, two masked Islamist gunmen launched a paramilitary attack on the Paris offices of Charlie Hebdo, a satirical weekly magazine. The gunmen murdered twelve people: two police officers and ten of the magazine’s staff, including the much-loved editor and cartoonist Stéphane Charbonnier (known as “Charb”).

In the immediate aftermath, many people expressed solidarity with Charlie Hebdo’s staff and their loved ones, and with the citizens of Paris. There were vigils and rallies in cities across the world. Twitter hashtags proliferated, the most viral being #JeSuisCharlie: “I am Charlie.”

Yet, as with the Salman Rushdie Affair in 1989, many Western commentators quickly turned on the victims. In an article published in Free Inquiry (warning: behind a paywall), I responded that these commentators deserved a special hall of shame.

Some folks don’t like Charlie

Charlie Hebdo has more than its share of enemies. Its style is irreverent, mocking and caustic. It attracts attention from fanatics, particularly from Islamists who are incensed by its frequent drawings of the prophet Muhammad. Importantly, however, its ridicule is aimed at fearmongers and authoritarians. It is an antifascist magazine, and it treats racial bigots with particular savagery and relish. Its most despised targets include the Front National - France’s brazenly racist party of the extreme Right - and its current president, Marine Le Pen.

While the corpses of the murder victims were still warm, however, some commentators insinuated that Charb and the other victims had it coming. Most deplorable of all, perhaps, was an op-ed piece  published by USA Today within hours of the attack. This was written by a London-based radical cleric, Anjem Choudary, who has publicly expressed support for the jihadist militant group ISIS (or Islamic State). Choudary openly blamed the victims, along with the French government for allowing Charlie Hebdo’s freedom to publish.

With evident approval, he stated that the penalty for insulting a prophet should be death, “implementable by an Islamic State.” He added: “However, because the honor of the Prophet is something which all Muslims want to defend, many will take the law into their own hands, as we often see.”

While Choudary’s apologetics for murder were especially chilling, much sanctimonious nastiness issued from more mainstream commentators. All too often, it came from individuals who identify with the political and cultural Left, as with an article by Teju Cole published in The New Yorker on 9 January 2015.

To be fair, Cole’s contribution to the backlash was milder than some, and certainly more eloquent and thoughtful. He even makes some reasonable points about threats to free speech that are not overtly violent. But his article is worth singling out for comment precisely because of its veneer of sophistication.

Cole appears aware that much of what looks insensitive, or outright racist, in Charlie Hebdo’s cartoons could easily receive anti-racist interpretations when viewed with basic charity and in context. He alludes to the fact that one cartoon in a back issue of Charlie Hebdo was explicable, in its immediate context of publication, as a sarcastic attack on the Front National. Yet he dismisses this point with no analysis or evidence: “naturally, the defense is that a violently racist image was being used to satirize racism”.

Well, was it being used to satirise racism or not? Little research is needed to find the context of publication and discover that, yes, it actually was used to mock the racism of the Front National - so what is Cole’s point? And why the sneering word naturally? It is calculated to suggest bad faith on the part of opponents. The thought seems to be that Charlie Hebdo’s defenders would say that, wouldn’t they?

Despite his knowledge and intellect, Cole discourages any fair search for understanding. Despite his brilliance as a writer, he belongs in the hall of shame.

The refugee crisis in Europe

More controversy has come to Charlie Hebdo with the current refugee crisis in Europe. The magazine has ridiculed harsh European attitudes to Syrian refugees, but predictably there has been much moral posturing and hand wringing in the mainstream and social media. A recent report on the ABC News site summarises the international reaction and includes images of the relevant cartoons. Opportunistic, or merely obtuse, commentators allege that Charlie Hebdo’s cartoons mock the refugees themselves, particularly the drowned Syrian child, Aylan Kurdi.

That accusation is seriously and obviously mistaken, and the point of the cartoons is not especially hard to detect. They attack what they portray as European consumerism, bigotry and heartlessness.

Nonetheless, in an astonishingly clumsy article published in New Matilda, Chris Graham takes jabs at those of us who supported Charlie Hebdo last January. He writes: “Did you hashtag ‘Je Suis Charlie’? Blindly? Without really knowing what the publication actually represents?”

Well, what does the publication actually represent? Graham hints that it’s something rather sinister - perhaps some kind of white or Christian supremacism - but if that’s what he thinks, he doesn’t spell it out so it can be refuted.

At any rate, there is no great secret about what Charlie Hebdo actually represents: it is, as I stated earlier, an antifascist magazine. It is, furthermore, anti-authoritarian, anti-racist, anti-clerical, and generally anti-establishment. In brief, Charlie Hebdo is a vehicle for radical left-wing thought of a distinctively French kind, one with antecedents at least as far back as the eighteenth-century Enlightenment.

Speaking for myself, then, I certainly did not act blindly in expressing my solidarity, and I frankly resent that suggestion. By contrast, I’ve seen many people blindly accept the claim that Charlie Hebdo is some kind of racist publication.

Graham describes the cartoons in a way that reveals his confusion. He even comments on one of them: “Apart from the fact it’s not funny, it also makes absolutely no sense. Maybe the ‘humour’ is lost in the translation.”

Maybe any humour could lose something in the literal-minded translation that Graham offers his readers. More to the point, it might be lost on someone who displays no understanding of the French tradition of satire. In any event, why expect that Charlie Hebdo’s cartoons will be humorous in the ordinary way? Why shouldn’t they be bleak and bitter and fierce, with no intent to elicit giggles or guffaws?

As this episode plays out, I welcome the newly established JeResteCharlie (“I remain Charlie”) project, and I’m pleased to see a recent contribution to the debate by Salman Rushdie. Rushdie supports JeResteCharlie, he explains, “Because we are living in a time in which we are in danger of backsliding in our commitment to freedom of expression. That is why it is important to emphasize these values yet again right now.”

I agree, and I still support Charlie Hebdo.

Critique and its responsibilities

I don’t suggest that the ideas and approach of Charlie Hebdo are beyond criticism, though I do question how far that was a priority in early January before the murder victims had even been buried. That consideration aside, there is always room for fair, careful interpretation and criticism of cultural products such as prominent magazines.

There is certainly room for debate about whether Charlie Hebdo showed good taste in so quickly exploiting Aylan Kurdi’s death to make a political point (though, again, the cartoons do not mock the boy, whatever else may be said about them). Nothing I have stated here is meant to show that Charlie’s Hebdo’s approach to satire is tasteful. Then again, the magazine’s willingness to flout ordinary standards of taste frees it to make timely, appropriately caustic, comment on French and international politics.

We need good cultural criticism, but we also need some scrutiny of the cultural critics. Much of what passes for cultural criticism merely examines cultural products - whether novels, movies, video games, cartoons, speeches, items of clothing, or comedy routines - for superficial marks of ideological impurity.

This approach ignores (or simply fails to understand) issues of nuance, style, irony, political and artistic context, and the importance of framing effects. It fails to discover - much less appreciate - complexity, ambiguity, or instability of meaning.

There may be occasions when the excuse of irony is offered in bad faith. When that is the accusation, however, it needs support from careful, detailed, sensitive, honest argument. Meanwhile, authors and artists should not be pressured to create banal content for fear of dull or dishonest interpreters. There are some contexts, no doubt - e.g. in writing posts like this one - where straightforwardness is a virtue. In many other contexts, that’s not necessarily so.

Fair, useful cultural criticism should display some humility in the face of art. It should be grounded in an understanding of context and the relevant styles and traditions of expression. If we propose to engage in critique of cultural products, we had better show some complexity and generosity of response. That is how we earn our places in serious cultural conversations.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

New Charlie Hebdo cartoons attract uncharitable responses

It's beyond me how people of good faith could interpret this as anything other than savage satire of European attitudes to refugees from the Middle East. And yet, once again, we see preening, authoritarian busybodies treating Charlie Hebdo in the most uncharitable way, as if, on this occasion, it were making fun of the drowned Syrian child.

Obviously we could debate whether the latest Charlie Hebdo cartoons are (in the immediate circumstances) in good taste, whether they might have some perverse psychological effect (i.e. an effect contrary to their artistic purpose), and so on. I doubt, however, that the original French audience would have misunderstood the satirical force of what they saw this week.

The mainstream and social media are, unfortunately, rife with people who will "call out" speeches, cartoons - and many other forms of expression - in the most harsh and simple-minded ways. Some of this must result from a lack of cultural sophistication: an inability to understand such things as irony (sometimes including unstable irony), complexity, artistic convention, and framing. But there is also the disastrous urge to provide signals of tribal righteousness.

[Edit, 20 September: I've now written about this at considerably greater length on the Cogito blog. I'll repost on this site when I have a minute.]