• Logic is a systematic method of coming to the wrong conclusion with confidence. (Todd Warkentin)

    Ca să rămânem în regimul contestărilor postmoderne ne putem întreba mai departe: cine e în măsură să spună care concluzie e greșită dacă se exclude din start posibilitatea de a exista vreo concluzie corectă? Într-adevăr, competiția erorilor pare a sufoca dreptul la existență al adevărului! În lumea oglinzilor înșelătoare e greu să ai o dreaptă măsură a propriei identități! Dar logica nu e psihologie, chiar dacă, e drept, poate fi folosită ca metodă mai mult sau mai puțin terapeutică pentru bolile minții. Ceea ce lipsește postmodernului nu e self-esteem-ul cu care se îndoapă zilnic, ci consecvența, capacitatea de a face un efort intelectual onest cu sine însuși. Aici logica poate ajuta. Dar folosirea consecventă a logicii ne-ar deschide prea mult posibilității unor concluzii dureroase …

     Image: Wet Magazine. April Greiman and Jamye Odgers

  • The Suspicious Society

    When regard for truth has broken down or even slightly weakened, all things will remain doubtful. -SAINT AUGUSTINE

    At the outset of this book we wondered whether more lies than ever are being told. In a sense, the answer to that question is beside the point. Because if we feel more lies are being told—and we obviously do—the effect is the same regardless of whether that feeling is valid: a rising level of wariness. In an era as lie-tolerant as ours, suspicion is inevitable. As bad as deception itself is the sense that we’re being deceived so routinely. From potential mates to prospective employees or even our neighbors, we feel less and less sure whom exactly we’re dealing with, or how much of what they tell us to believe. From potential mates to prospective employees or even our neighbors, we feel less and less sure whom exactly we’re dealing with, or how much of what they tell us to believe.

    (…) Even the most ardent postmodern relativist wouldn’t argue that truth telling has no place in human discourse. No society could function on that basis. Civilization would crumble if we assumed others were as likely to lie as to tell the truth. Our social contract cannot survive lying so routine that citizens consider it normal. One sign of a healthy democracy is its citizens’ capacity for outrage when they are deceived. Since Watergate, and Enron, and the cover-up of child-abusing priests, too many of us have resigned ourselves to lying being the norm among public figures. In the process we have become enablers of the post-truth society. Political columnist David Broder once observed that the post-Watergate climate of duplicity was a product of reporters and voters who accepted deception as a way of life. This cynicism is worse than outrage. Strachan Donnelly, president of the Hastings Center in Briarcliff Manor, New York, believes it has led to a vicious cycle. Politicians deceive, their constituents become cynical, expectations for political conduct decline, which in turn makes it easier for politicians to keep deceiving. “We’re getting what we’re asking for, in a way,” concluded Connelly. That is the social cost of constant deception: suspicion followed by resignation. It is not just society that pays for deceptive behavior, however. Individuals do as well. Lying seldom has a positive impact on either the lied to or the liar.

    (Keyes, Ralph, The Post-Truth Era: Dishonesty and Deception in Contemporary Life, Macmillan, 2004, 213, 228)

  • The university’s core mission has been corrupted by pedagogical and political orthodoxy. (Janice Fiamengo)

    […] the emphasis on a vacuous therapeutic empowerment of the student body has led to a drastic lowering of expectations in North American post-secondary institutions. Students now read less than ever before for their courses, and professors are under increasing pressure to evaluate students in non-traditional ways (i.e., outside of tests and essays).

    […] The emphasis in hiring decisions on student evaluations of teachers — see, for example, the public website “Rate My Professor,” in which students’ often crass assessments are posted for all to see (“She’s hot!” “His voice puts you to sleep”) — makes it increasingly attractive to instructors to earn popularity, or at least to avoid attack, by giving high grades and making their courses fun rather than demanding.
    As traditional content is removed from courses, it is often replaced by non-academic material, specifically a devotion to “social justice” that masquerades as critical analysis despite the fact that the impartial weighing of evidence so necessary to such analysis is largely absent from its championing of victims.

    […] Many professors in the Humanities and Social Sciences devote themselves less to teaching their particular disciplines than to decrying the presumed crimes of the United States, sympathizing with Islamic terrorists and other violent dissidents, calling for the overthrow of the capitalist world order, and condoning plans for the destruction of Israel.

    […] the radicalization of the Humanities and the decline of academic standards are closely related, with political commitment often necessitating the abandonment of scholarly integrity. Many teachers of English no longer care much about prosody or literary history or correct grammar because such subjects seem trivial beside the grand social struggles that claim their allegiance. It may well seem more urgent to combat racism than to combat the comma splice, to analyze patriarchal privilege rather than Jane Austen’s irony; and when right thinking is more important than rigorous thinking, details can be overlooked in the cause of student enlightenment. Combine this with an administrative emphasis on filling seats and a state commitment to student access, and one has the perfect academic storm, one that sweeps away scholastics and whirls in crude social engineering.

    That many of my colleagues seemed sincere in their commitment to history’s underdogs cannot excuse the damage caused by their policies and by their skewed teaching practices — for their ideological convictions were often imported into the classroom, where a balanced overview of course material was sacrificed to the politics of “race, class, and gender.” Students learn quickly enough in such courses that success requires them to adopt approved positions: to be skeptical of Western nations’ claims to equality and justice, to understand their country’s history as a record of oppression, and to look with ready admiration at non-Western cultures, which they are taught to see as superior. Young white men learn early on that history’s villains are usually white men. Lesbian identities, Aboriginal culture, and Sharia law are protected from critical appraisal by charges of homophobia, genocidal racism, or cultural imperialism. Instructors often choose the texts on their syllabus not to represent the traditional scholarly consensus on the important and best literature of the period but rather to represent a range of victim groups presented in noble conflict with the forces of social prejudice. Literature is taught not because it is valuable in itself but because it teaches students to denounce inequality and to empathize with victims, and to feel appropriately empowered in grievance or guilty by association.

    Indeed, some students become so immersed in Leftist ideology — a kind of secret society whose code language they have learned in fear and trembling and now exercise with pride — that they believe it the only possible view of the world and have never seriously considered alternatives except as the deplorable prejudices of the hateful unwashed. Their conviction of rightness has revealed itself in a multitude of anti-intellectual and repressive behavior on university campuses across the country.

    Can the Humanities Be Saved? by Janice Fiamengo, PJ Media, 22 April 2012.

    Janice Fiamengo is a professor of English at the University of Ottawa, and author of The Woman’s Page: Journalism and Rhetoric in Early Canada (2008).