Hear a 19-Hour Playlist of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Favorite Music: Schubert, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, and… Yvette Guilbert

Among his many var­ied interests—which, in addi­tion to phi­los­o­phy, includ­ed aero­nau­ti­cal engi­neer­ing and archi­tec­tureLud­wig Wittgen­stein was also a great lover of music. Giv­en his well-deserved rep­u­ta­tion for intel­lec­tu­al aus­ter­i­ty, we might assume his musi­cal tastes would tend toward min­i­mal­ist com­posers of the ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry like fel­low Aus­tri­an Arnold Schoen­berg. The “order­ly seri­al­ism,” of Schoenberg’s aton­al music “does seem an obvi­ous com­ple­ment to Wittgenstein’s phi­los­o­phy,” writes Grant Chu Cov­ell. “Observers have won­dered why the famous­ly arro­gant thinker who attempt­ed to infuse phi­los­o­phy with log­ic didn’t find Schoenberg’s 12-tone sys­tem attrac­tive.”

But indeed, he did not—in fact, Wittgen­stein despised almost all mod­ern music and seemed to believe that “noth­ing of val­ue had been com­posed after the 19th century’s demise.” While his philo­soph­i­cal work made as rad­i­cal a break with the past as Schoenberg’s the­o­ry, when it came to music, the philoso­pher was a strict tra­di­tion­al­ist who “liked to say that there were only six tru­ly great com­posers: Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schu­bert, Brahms and Labor.”

This last name will hard­ly be famil­iar to most read­ers. Labor, a blind organ­ist and com­pos­er, was a close friend of the Wittgen­stein fam­i­ly and a teacher of Ludwig’s broth­er Paul (and of Schoen­berg as well). Although he lived into the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, Labor main­ly drew his influ­ence from ear­ly music.

The extrav­a­gant­ly wealthy Wittgen­steins were a musi­cal family—both Ludwig’s old­er broth­ers became musi­cians. Wittgenstein’s par­ents and grand­par­ents knew Brahms, adopt­ed vio­lin­ist Joseph Joachim, a dis­tant cousin, into the fam­i­ly, and fre­quent­ly host­ed such lumi­nar­ies as Gus­tav Mahler and Richard Strauss. Lud­wig him­self learned to play the clar­inet and “was a fas­tid­i­ous lis­ten­er,” Cov­ell notes. “Acquain­tances mar­veled at his vir­tu­oso whistling. His reper­toire includ­ed Brahms’ Haydn Vari­a­tions and oth­er sym­phon­ic works. He would unhesi­tat­ing­ly cor­rect oth­ers’ inac­cu­rate hum­ming or singing.” He sup­pos­ed­ly had an “untir­ing obses­sion with per­fect recre­ations of the clas­sics.”

The philosopher’s per­fec­tion­ism lead to some harsh crit­i­cal judg­ments. “Brahms is Mendelssohn with­out the flaws,” he wrote. He declared Mahler “worth­less… quite obvi­ous­ly it took a set of very rare tal­ents to pro­duce this bad music.” What did Wittgen­stein val­ue in music besides an ide­al of per­fec­tion? Gram­mar, silence, and pro­fun­di­ty. “The music of the Baroque era… made use of the spe­cial effect of silence,” writes Yael Kaduri at Con­tem­po­rary Aes­thet­ics. “The gen­er­al pause of the Baroque was used to illus­trate con­cepts such as eter­ni­ty, death, infin­i­ty and silence in vocal music.” These con­cepts “did not dis­ap­pear in the tran­si­tion to the clas­sic era.” Haydn’s music in par­tic­u­lar “con­tains so many gen­er­al paus­es that it seems they form an intrin­sic com­po­nent of his musi­cal lan­guage.”

Wittgen­stein had oth­er cri­te­ria as well, much of it, sure­ly, as enig­mat­ic as the prin­ci­ples that gov­erned his thought. What does become clear, Cov­ell argues, is that “Wittgen­stein could only have been attract­ed to com­mon-prac­tice tonal­i­ty, with its cod­i­fied rules and delin­eation between orna­ment and form.” He need­ed “a sys­tem the details of which enhance an under­ly­ing struc­ture.” In the playlist above, you can hear a selec­tion of the philoso­pher’s favorites. Com­piled by Wittgen­stein biog­ra­ph­er Ray Monk, the playlist omits Haydn, for some rea­son, but includes Wag­n­er and Roman­tic com­pos­er Georges Bizet.

You’ll also find one rare excep­tion to Wittgenstein’s obses­sion with clas­si­cal musi­cal order: cabaret actress and singer Yvette Guil­bert, favorite sub­ject of artist Hen­ri Toulouse-Lautrec and one­time star of the Moulin Rouge. The famous­ly soli­tary, severe, and ill-tem­pered philoso­pher may have, it seems, nur­tured a soft­er side after all.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear Wittgenstein’s Trac­ta­tus Logi­co-Philo­soph­i­cus Sung as a One-Woman Opera

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Lud­wig Wittgen­stein & His Philo­soph­i­cal Insights on the Prob­lems of Human Com­mu­ni­ca­tion

Lud­wig Wittgenstein’s Short, Strange & Bru­tal Stint as an Ele­men­tary School Teacher

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

An Animated Introduction to the Existentialist Philosophy of Jean-Paul Sartre… and How It Can Open Our Eyes to Life’s Possibilities

Among the vogue names of mid­cen­tu­ry West­ern phi­los­o­phy, few ever rose to such cul­tur­al heights as that of Jean-Paul Sartre. Fans once dropped it when­ev­er they could, and made sure to be seen read­ing Being and Noth­ing­ness wher­ev­er they could. But why did his par­tic­u­lar ideas so cap­ti­vate his read­ers, and what — now that French phi­los­o­phy fever has, for the most part died down — do we still stand to gain from famil­iar­iz­ing our­selves with them? This six-and-a-half-minute ani­mat­ed Sartre primer from Alain de Bot­ton’s School of Life can get us start­ed under­stand­ing them.

Sartre’s entry in the accom­pa­ny­ing site The Book of Life breaks his exis­ten­tial­ist phi­los­o­phy down into four key insights: “Things are weird­er than we think,” “We are free,” “We shouldn’t live in ‘Bad faith’,” and “We’re free to dis­man­tle Cap­i­tal­ism.”

Or in oth­er words, every­day log­ic can give way to sheer absur­di­ty; that absur­di­ty pro­vides us glimpses of the vast and usu­al­ly unac­knowl­edged pos­si­bil­i­ties of life (which exist not least because noth­ing has any fixed pur­pose); we have an oblig­a­tion to acknowl­edge those pos­si­bil­i­ties and our free­dom to choose between them; and we need not live under a sys­tem that oper­ates to lim­it those pos­si­bil­i­ties. But how do we actu­al­ly act on any of this?

On the most basic lev­el, Sartre helps us real­ize that “things do not have to be the way they are.” He “urges us to accept the flu­id­i­ty of exis­tence and to cre­ate new insti­tu­tions, habits, out­looks and ideas. The admis­sion that life doesn’t have some pre­or­dained log­ic and is not inher­ent­ly mean­ing­ful can be a source of immense relief when we feel oppressed by the weight of tra­di­tion and the sta­tus quo.” That notion must have exud­ed a spe­cial appeal in the post­war West, when the enor­mous growth of large-scale indus­tri­al and cor­po­rate orga­ni­za­tions start­ed to make life seem fright­en­ing­ly reg­i­ment­ed.

Things may look quite dif­fer­ent here in the 21st cen­tu­ry, near­ly 40 years after Sartre’s death, but even after all our sup­posed enlight­en­ment and empow­er­ment since then, we’d do well to heed his insis­tence that noth­ing in our lives, or thoughts, or our econ­o­my real­ly has to be the way it is. And since none of it, in his view, came down to us divine­ly ordained, we can change any of it when­ev­er and how­ev­er we wish. We have that great pow­er, but with great pow­er, as the Spi­der-Man comics say, comes great respon­si­bil­i­ty. No won­der we so often pre­fer to pre­tend we have no choice.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Crash Course in Exis­ten­tial­ism: A Short Intro­duc­tion to Jean-Paul Sartre & Find­ing Mean­ing in a Mean­ing­less World

Jean-Paul Sartre’s Con­cepts of Free­dom & “Exis­ten­tial Choice” Explained in an Ani­mat­ed Video Nar­rat­ed by Stephen Fry

Jean-Paul Sartre on How Amer­i­can Jazz Lets You Expe­ri­ence Exis­ten­tial­ist Free­dom & Tran­scen­dence

Jean-Paul Sartre Breaks Down the Bad Faith of Intel­lec­tu­als

Le Blog de Jean-Paul Sartre Dis­cov­ered

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Noam Chomsky Explains What’s Wrong with Postmodern Philosophy & French Intellectuals, and How They End Up Supporting Oppressive Power Structures

Noam Chom­sky has always had iras­ci­ble tendencies—when he doesn’t like some­thing, he lets us know it, with­out ever rais­ing his voice and usu­al­ly with plen­ty of foot­notes. It’s a qual­i­ty that has made the emer­i­tus MIT pro­fes­sor and famed lin­guist such a potent crit­ic of U.S. empire for half a cen­tu­ry, vig­or­ous­ly denounc­ing the Viet­nam War, the Iraq War(s), and the pos­si­bil­i­ty of a cat­a­stroph­ic war with North Korea. Chom­sky isn’t a pro­fes­sion­al his­to­ri­an or polit­i­cal philoso­pher; these are avo­ca­tions he has tak­en on to bol­ster his argu­ments. But those argu­ments are strength­ened by his will­ing­ness to engage with pri­ma­ry sources and take them seri­ous­ly.

When it comes, how­ev­er, to his much-pub­li­cized feud with “Post­mod­ernism,” a term he uses lib­er­al­ly at times to describe almost all post-war French intel­lec­tu­al cul­ture, Chom­sky rarely con­fronts his oppo­nents in their own terms. That’s large­ly because, as he’s said on many occa­sions, he can’t make any sense of them. It’s not exact­ly an orig­i­nal cri­tique. Man­darins of French thought like Jean-Fran­cois Lyotard, Jacques Lacan, and Jean Bau­drillard have been accused for decades, and not with­out mer­it, of know­ing­ly ped­dling bull­shit to a French read­er­ship that expects, as Michel Fou­cault once admit­ted, a manda­to­ry “ten per­cent incom­pre­hen­si­ble.” (Soci­ol­o­gist Pierre Bour­dieu asserts that the num­ber is much high­er.)

But Chomsky’s cri­tique goes fur­ther, in a direc­tion that doesn’t get near­ly as much press as his charges of obscu­ran­tism and overuse of insu­lar jar­gon. Chom­sky claims that far from offer­ing rad­i­cal new ways of con­ceiv­ing the world, Post­mod­ern thought serves as an instru­ment of oppres­sive pow­er struc­tures. It’s an inter­est­ing asser­tion giv­en some recent argu­ments that “post-truth” post­mod­ernism is respon­si­ble for the rise of the self-described “alt-right” and the rapid spread of fake infor­ma­tion as a tool for the cur­rent U.S. rul­ing par­ty seiz­ing pow­er.

Not only is there “a lot of mate­r­i­al reward,” Chom­sky says, that comes from the aca­d­e­m­ic super­star­dom many high-pro­file French philoso­phers achieved, but their position—or lack of a clear position—“allows peo­ple to take a very rad­i­cal stance… but to be com­plete­ly dis­so­ci­at­ed from every­thing that’s hap­pen­ing.” Chom­sky gives an exam­ple above of an anony­mous post­mod­ernist crit­ic brand­ing a talk he gave as “naïve” for its dis­cus­sion of such out­mod­ed “Enlight­en­ment stuff” as mak­ing moral deci­sions and refer­ring to such a thing as “truth.” In his brief dis­cus­sion of “the strange bub­ble of French intel­lec­tu­als” at the top of the post, Chom­sky gets more spe­cif­ic.

Most post-war French philoso­phers, he alleges, have been Stal­in­ists or Maoists (he uses the exam­ple of Julia Kris­te­va), and have uncrit­i­cal­ly embraced author­i­tar­i­an state com­mu­nism despite its doc­u­ment­ed crimes and abus­es, while reject­ing oth­er modes of philo­soph­i­cal thought like log­i­cal pos­i­tivism that accept the valid­i­ty of the sci­en­tif­ic method. This may or may not be a fair cri­tique: polit­i­cal ori­en­ta­tions shift and change (and at times we accept a thinker’s work while ful­ly reject­ing their per­son­al pol­i­tics). And the post­mod­ern cri­tique of sci­en­tif­ic dis­course as form of oppres­sive pow­er is a seri­ous one that need­n’t entail a whole­sale rejec­tion of sci­ence.

Are there any post-struc­tural­ist thinkers Chom­sky admires? Though he takes a lit­tle dig at Michel Fou­cault in the clip above, he and the French the­o­rist have had some fruit­ful debates, “on real issues,” Chom­sky says, “and using lan­guage that was per­fect­ly comprehensible—he speak­ing French, me Eng­lish.” That’s not a sur­prise. The two thinkers, despite the immense dif­fer­ence in their styles and frames of ref­er­ence, both engage heav­i­ly with pri­ma­ry his­tor­i­cal sources and both con­sis­tent­ly write his­to­ries of ide­ol­o­gy.

It is part­ly through the inter­play between Fou­cault and Chomsky’s ideas that we might find a syn­the­sis of French Marx­ist post-struc­tural­ist thought and Amer­i­can anar­chist polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy. Rather than see­ing them as pro­fes­sion­al wrestlers in the ring, with the post­mod­ernist as the heel and head­lines like “Chom­sky DESTROYS Post­mod­ernism,” we could look for com­ple­men­tar­i­ty and points of agree­ment, and gen­uine­ly read, as dif­fi­cult as that can be, as many of the argu­ments of post­mod­ern French philoso­phers as we can (and per­haps this defense of obscu­ran­tism) before decid­ing with a sweep­ing ges­ture that none of them make any sense.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

Noam Chom­sky Calls Post­mod­ern Cri­tiques of Sci­ence Over-Inflat­ed “Poly­syl­lab­ic Tru­isms”

Noam Chom­sky Slams Žižek and Lacan: Emp­ty ‘Pos­tur­ing’

Clash of the Titans: Noam Chom­sky & Michel Fou­cault Debate Human Nature & Pow­er on Dutch TV, 1971

MIT Is Dig­i­tiz­ing a Huge Archive of Noam Chomsky’s Lec­tures, Papers and Oth­er Doc­u­ments & Will Put Them Online

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

An Animated Introduction to Epicurus and His Answer to the Ancient Question: What Makes Us Happy?

These days the word Epi­cure­an tends to get thrown around in regard to things like olive oil, cut­ting boards, and wine aer­a­tors. The real Epi­cu­rus, an ancient Greek philoso­pher of the third and fourth cen­tu­ry BCE, might not have approved, know­ing as he did that hap­pi­ness does­n’t come from prod­ucts that sig­nal one’s appre­ci­a­tion of high-end comestibles. But where, then, does hap­pi­ness come from? Epi­cu­rus devot­ed his school of phi­los­o­phy to find­ing an answer to that ancient ques­tion, and these two brief ani­mat­ed intro­duc­tions, one by Alain de Bot­ton’s School of Life and one from Wire­less Phi­los­o­phy, will give you a sense of what he dis­cov­ered.

Epi­cu­rus pro­posed, as de Bot­ton puts it, that “we typ­i­cal­ly make three mis­takes when think­ing about hap­pi­ness.” Num­ber one: “We think hap­pi­ness means hav­ing roman­tic, sex­u­al rela­tion­ships,” nev­er con­sid­er­ing the like­li­hood of them being “marred by jeal­ousy, mis­un­der­stand­ing, cheat­ing, and bit­ter­ness.”

Num­ber two: “We think that what we need to be hap­py is a lot of mon­ey,” with­out fac­tor­ing in “the unbe­liev­able sac­ri­fices we’re going to have to make to get this mon­ey: the jeal­ousy, the back­bit­ing, the long hours.” Num­ber three: We obsess over lux­u­ry, “espe­cial­ly involv­ing hous­es and beau­ti­ful serene loca­tions” (and, nowa­days, that with which we stock their kitchens).

Only three things, Epi­cu­rus con­clud­ed, can tru­ly ensure our hap­pi­ness. Num­ber one: “Your friends around,” which led the philoso­pher to buy a big house and share it with all of his. (“No sex, no orgy,” de Bot­ton empha­sizes, “just your mates.”) Num­ber two: Stop work­ing for oth­ers and do your own work, which the mem­bers of Epi­cu­rus’ com­mune did in the form of farm­ing, cook­ing, pot­ting, and writ­ing. Num­ber three: Find calm not in the view out your win­dow, but cul­ti­vat­ed with­in your own mind by “reflect­ing, writ­ing stuff down, read­ing things, med­i­tat­ing.” The big meta-les­son: “Human beings aren’t very good at mak­ing them­selves hap­py, chiefly because they think it’s so easy.”

Wire­less Phi­los­o­phy’s video, nar­rat­ed by Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia, San Diego phi­los­o­phy pro­fes­sor Monte John­son, draws more rules for hap­pi­ness from the teach­ings of Epi­cu­rus, break­ing down his “tetraphar­makos,” or four-part cure for unhap­pi­ness:

  1. God is noth­ing to fear
  2. Death is noth­ing to wor­ry about
  3. It is easy to acquire the good things in life
  4. It is easy to endure the ter­ri­ble things

John­son expands on the fine points of each of these dic­tates while accom­pa­ny­ing his expla­na­tions with illus­tra­tions, includ­ing one draw­ing of the bread on which, so his­to­ry has record­ed, Epi­cu­rus lived almost entire­ly. That and water made up most of his meals, sup­ple­ment­ed with the occa­sion­al olive or pot of cheese so that he could “indulge.” Not exact­ly the diet one would casu­al­ly describe as Epi­cure­an in the 21st cen­tu­ry, but dig into Epi­cure­anism itself and you’ll see that Epi­cu­rus, who described him­self as “mar­ried to phi­los­o­phy,” under­stood sen­su­al plea­sure more deeply than most of us do today — and a cou­ple mil­len­nia before the advent of Williams-Sono­ma at that.

To fur­ther delve into this phi­los­o­phy, read Epi­cu­rus’ clas­sic work The Art of Hap­pi­ness.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Guide to Hap­pi­ness: Alain de Botton’s Doc­u­men­tary Shows How Niet­zsche, Socrates & 4 Oth­er Philoso­phers Can Change Your Life

Alain de Botton’s School of Life Presents Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tions to Hei­deg­ger, The Sto­ics & Epi­cu­rus

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Sto­icism, the Ancient Greek Phi­los­o­phy That Lets You Lead a Hap­py, Ful­fill­ing Life

Albert Camus Explains Why Hap­pi­ness Is Like Com­mit­ting a Crime—”You Should Nev­er Admit to it” (1959)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Theorist Judith Butler Explains How Behavior Creates Gender: A Short Introduction to “Gender Performativity”

“One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman,” wrote Simone de Beau­voir in one of the most famous artic­u­la­tions of the dif­fer­ence between sex and gen­der. By this, de Beau­voir does not mean us to believe that no one is born with repro­duc­tive organs, but that the social role of “woman” (or for that mat­ter “man”) comes from a col­lec­tion of behav­iors into which we are social­ized. The dis­tinc­tion is cru­cial for under­stand­ing most fem­i­nist and queer the­o­ry and the vari­ety of human iden­ti­ty more gen­er­al­ly, yet it’s one that too often gets lost in pop­u­lar usage of the words sex and gen­der. Biol­o­gy does not deter­mine gen­der dif­fer­ences, cul­ture does.

Gen­der becomes nat­u­ral­ized, woven so tight­ly into the social fab­ric that it seems like a nec­es­sary part of real­i­ty rather than a con­tin­gent pro­duc­tion of his­to­ry. Just how this hap­pens is complicated—we don’t invent these roles, they are invent­ed for us, as Judith But­ler argues in her essay “Per­for­ma­tive Acts and Gen­der Con­sti­tu­tion.”

Gen­der iden­ti­ty “is a per­for­ma­tive accom­plish­ment,” she writes, “com­pelled by social sanc­tion and taboo…. Gen­der is… an iden­ti­ty insti­tut­ed through a rep­e­ti­tion of acts.” For a some­what more straight­for­ward sum­ma­ry of her the­o­ry of “per­for­ma­tiv­i­ty,” see But­ler in the Big Think video above, in which she describes gen­der as a “phe­nom­e­non that’s being pro­duced all the time and repro­duced all the time.”

Still unclear? Well, it’s com­pli­cat­ed, but so is every oth­er facet of human iden­ti­ty many peo­ple take for grant­ed, espe­cial­ly peo­ple whose gen­der expres­sion doesn’t threat­en strict soci­etal norms. For a more thor­ough overview of these con­cepts, see the Phi­los­o­phy Tube video above, which explains Butler’s the­o­ry and a num­ber of oth­er terms cen­tral to the dis­course, such as “gen­der essen­tial­ism” and “social con­struc­tivism.” One thing to note about But­ler’s the­o­ry, as both she and our philoso­pher above explain, is that “per­for­ma­tiv­i­ty,” though it uses a the­atri­cal metaphor, is not the same as “per­for­mance.” Gen­der is not a cos­tume one puts on and takes off, like a Shake­speare­an actor play­ing male char­ac­ters one night and female char­ac­ters the next.

Rather, the tech­ni­cal term “per­for­ma­tive” means for But­ler an act that not only com­mu­ni­cates but also cre­ates an iden­ti­ty. Some exam­ples offered above of per­for­ma­tive speech include say­ing “guilty” at a tri­al, which turns one into an inmate, or say­ing “I do” at a wed­ding, which turns one into a spouse. Per­for­ma­tive acts of gen­der do a sim­i­lar kind of work, not only com­mu­ni­cat­ing to oth­ers some aspect of iden­ti­ty, but con­struct­ing that very iden­ti­ty, only they do that work through rep­e­ti­tion. As de Beau­voir argued, we are not born a self, we become, or cre­ate, a self, through social pres­sure to con­form and through “reit­er­at­ing and repeat­ing the norms through which one is con­sti­tut­ed,” But­ler writes.

As we might expect of any cul­tur­al con­struct, gen­der norms vary wide­ly both inter- and intra-cul­tur­al­ly and through­out his­tor­i­cal peri­ods. And giv­en their con­struct­ed nature, they can change in any num­ber of ways. There­fore, accord­ing to But­ler, “there’s not real­ly any grounds,” as our phi­los­o­phy explain­er puts it, “for say­ing that somebody’s ‘doing their gen­der wrong.’”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Judy!: 1993 Judith But­ler Fanzine Gives Us An Irrev­er­ent Punk-Rock Take on the Post-Struc­tural­ist Gen­der The­o­rist

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to the Fem­i­nist Phi­los­o­phy of Simone de Beau­voir

11 Essen­tial Fem­i­nist Books: A New Read­ing List by The New York Pub­lic Library

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Jean-Paul Sartre’s Concepts of Freedom & “Existential Choice” Explained in an Animated Video Narrated by Stephen Fry

The non-exis­tence, or non-impor­tance, of the self has for mil­len­nia been an uncon­tro­ver­sial propo­si­tion in East­ern thought. But West­ern thinkers have tend­ed to embrace the con­cept of the iso­lat­ed self as, if not suf­fi­cient, at least nec­es­sary for a coher­ent account of human life. Yet there are many ways to describe what it means to have a self—an ego, an indi­vid­ual iden­ti­ty. Is the self a prod­uct of cul­ture, his­to­ry, and econ­o­my? Is it a col­lec­tion of sub­jec­tive expe­ri­ences to which no one else has access? Is it con­sti­tut­ed only in rela­tion to oth­er selves, or in rela­tion to an ulti­mate, unchang­ing, all-pow­er­ful Self?

For the Exis­ten­tial­ists, the self can be a prison, a trap, and a source of great anx­i­ety. Hei­deg­ger called self­hood a con­di­tion of being “thrown into the world.” By the time we real­ize where and what we are, accord­ing to restric­tive cat­e­gories of his­tor­i­cal thought and lan­guage, we are already there, inescapably bound to our con­di­tions, forced to per­form roles for which we nev­er audi­tioned. Jean-Paul Sartre took this notion of “thrown­ness” and gave it his own neu­rot­ic stamp. We are indeed tossed into exis­tences against our will, but the real con­dem­na­tion, he thought, is that once we arrive, we have to make choic­es. We are doomed to the task of cre­at­ing our­selves, no mat­ter how lim­it­ed the options, and there is no pos­si­bil­i­ty of opt­ing out. Even not mak­ing choic­es is a choice.

This extreme kind of free will, as Stephen Fry explains in the short, ani­mat­ed video above, stems from the prob­lem of human nature—there isn’t any. “Accord­ing to Sartre, there is no design for a human being,” says Fry, or in Sartre’s famous phrase, “exis­tence pre­cedes essence.” There is only the absur­di­ty of arriv­ing in a world with no plan, no God, no uni­ver­sal codes or fixed stan­dards of val­ue: just a dizzy­ing array of deci­sions to make. And yet, rather than mak­ing life triv­ial, the absurd con­di­tion described by Sartre lends sub­stan­tial weight to all of our choic­es, for in mak­ing them, he claimed, we are not only cre­at­ing our­selves, but decid­ing what a human being should be.

Illu­sions of cer­tain­ty and neces­si­ty obscure the con­tin­gent nature of exis­ten­tial choice, both the true inher­i­tance and the unremit­ting bur­den of every indi­vid­ual. What we become in life is up to us, Sartre thought, a propo­si­tion that caus­es us a good deal of anguish, since we can­not know the out­come of our choic­es nor under­stand the world in which we make them beyond our lim­it­ed capac­i­ty. And yet, we must act, Sartre thought, “as if every­one is watch­ing me.” This is not a pleas­ing thought, even if, for many, the idea might actu­al­ly lead to more care­ful, sober, and delib­er­a­tive decision-making—that is, when it does­n’t lead to par­a­lyz­ing dread.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Crash Course in Exis­ten­tial­ism: A Short Intro­duc­tion to Jean-Paul Sartre & Find­ing Mean­ing in a Mean­ing­less World

What Is an “Exis­ten­tial Cri­sis”?: An Ani­mat­ed Video Explains What the Expres­sion Real­ly Means

Exis­ten­tial Phi­los­o­phy of Kierkegaard, Sartre, Camus Explained with 8‑Bit Video Games

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Hear Hours of Lectures by Michel Foucault: Recorded in English & French Between 1961 and 1983

Tucked in the after­ward of the sec­ond, 1982 edi­tion of Hubert Drey­fus and Paul Rabinow’s Michel Fou­cault: Beyond Struc­tural­ism and Hermeneu­tics, we find an impor­tant, but lit­tle-known essay by Fou­cault him­self titled “The Sub­ject and Pow­er.” Here, the French the­o­rist offers what he con­strues as a sum­ma­ry of his life’s work: span­ning 1961’s Mad­ness and Civ­i­liza­tion up to his three-vol­ume, unfin­ished His­to­ry of Sex­u­al­i­ty, still in progress at the time of his death in 1984. He begins by telling us that he has not been, pri­mar­i­ly, con­cerned with pow­er, despite the word’s appear­ance in his essay’s title, its argu­ments, and in near­ly every­thing else he has writ­ten. Instead, he has sought to dis­cov­er the “modes of objec­ti­fi­ca­tion which trans­form human beings into sub­jects.”

This dis­tinc­tion may seem abstruse, a need­less­ly wordy mat­ter of seman­tics. It is not so for Fou­cault. In key crit­i­cal dif­fer­ence lies the orig­i­nal­i­ty of his project, in all its var­i­ous stages of devel­op­ment. “Pow­er,” as an abstrac­tion, an objec­tive rela­tion of dom­i­nance, is sta­t­ic and con­cep­tu­al, the image of a tyrant on a coin, of Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan seat­ed on his throne.

Sub­jec­tion, sub­jec­ti­fi­ca­tion, objec­tiviz­ing, indi­vid­u­al­iz­ing, on the oth­er hand—critical terms in Foucault’s vocabulary—are active process­es, dis­ci­plines and prac­tices, rela­tion­ships between indi­vid­u­als and insti­tu­tions that deter­mine the char­ac­ter of both. These rela­tion­ships can be locat­ed in his­to­ry, as Fou­cault does in exam­ple after exam­ple, and they can also be crit­i­cal­ly stud­ied in the present, and thus, per­haps, resist­ed and changed in what he terms “anar­chis­tic strug­gles.”

Fou­cault calls for a “new econ­o­my of pow­er rela­tions,” and a crit­i­cal the­o­ry that takes “forms of resis­tance against dif­fer­ent forms of pow­er as a start­ing point.” For exam­ple, in approach­ing the carcer­al state, we must exam­ine the process­es that divide “the crim­i­nals and the ‘good boys,’” process­es that func­tion inde­pen­dent­ly of rea­son. How is it that a sys­tem can cre­ate class­es of peo­ple who belong in cages and peo­ple who don’t, when the stan­dard ratio­nal justification—the pro­tec­tion of soci­ety from violence—fails spec­tac­u­lar­ly to apply in mil­lions of cas­es? From such excess­es, Fou­cault writes, come two “’dis­eases of power’—fascism and Stal­in­ism.” Despite the “inner mad­ness” of these “patho­log­i­cal forms” of state pow­er, “they used to a large extent the ideas and the devices of our polit­i­cal ratio­nal­i­ty.”

Peo­ple come to accept that mass incar­cer­a­tion, or inva­sive med­ical tech­nolo­gies, or eco­nom­ic depri­va­tion, or mass sur­veil­lance and over-polic­ing, are nec­es­sary and ratio­nal. They do so through the agency of what Fou­cault calls “pas­toral pow­er,” the sec­u­lar­iza­tion of reli­gious author­i­ty as inte­gral to the West­ern state.

This form of pow­er can­not be exer­cised with­out know­ing the inside of people’s minds, with­out explor­ing their souls, with­out mak­ing them reveal their inner­most secrets. It implies a knowl­edge of the con­science and an abil­i­ty to direct it.

In the last years of Foucault’s life, he shift­ed his focus from insti­tu­tion­al dis­cours­es and mechanisms—psychiatric, carcer­al, medical—to dis­ci­pli­nary prac­tices of self-con­trol and the gov­ern­ing of oth­ers by “pas­toral” means. Rather than ignor­ing indi­vid­u­al­i­ty, the mod­ern state, he writes, devel­oped “as a very sophis­ti­cat­ed struc­ture, in which indi­vid­u­als can be inte­grat­ed, under one con­di­tion: that this indi­vid­u­al­i­ty would be shaped in a new form and sub­mit­ted to a set of very spe­cif­ic pat­terns.” While writ­ing his mon­u­men­tal His­to­ry of Sex­u­al­i­ty, he gave a series of lec­tures at Berke­ley that explore the mod­ern polic­ing of the self.

In his lec­tures on “Truth and Sub­jec­tiv­i­ty” (1980), Fou­cault looks at forms of inter­ro­ga­tion and var­i­ous “truth ther­a­pies” that func­tion as sub­tle forms of coer­cion. Fou­cault returned to Berke­ley in 1983 and deliv­ered the lec­ture “Dis­course and Truth,” which explores the con­cept of par­rhe­sia, the Greek term mean­ing “free speech,” or as he calls it, “truth-telling as an activ­i­ty.” Through analy­sis of the tragedies of Euripi­des and con­tem­po­rary demo­c­ra­t­ic crises, he reveals the prac­tice of speak­ing truth to pow­er as a kind of tight­ly con­trolled per­for­mance. Final­ly, in his lec­ture series “The Cul­ture of the Self,” Fou­cault dis­cuss­es ancient and mod­ern prac­tices of “self care” or “the care of the self” as tech­nolo­gies designed to pro­duce cer­tain kinds of tight­ly bound­ed sub­jec­tiv­i­ties.

You can hear parts of these lec­tures above or vis­it our posts with full audio above. Also, over at Ubuweb, down­load the lec­tures as mp3s, and hear sev­er­al ear­li­er talks from Fou­cault in French, dat­ing all the way back to 1961.

When he began his final series of talks in 1980, the philoso­pher was asked in an inter­view with the Dai­ly Cal­i­forn­ian about the moti­va­tions for his crit­i­cal exam­i­na­tions of pow­er and sub­jec­tiv­i­ty. His reply speaks to both his prac­ti­cal con­cern for resis­tance and his almost utopi­an belief in the lim­it­less poten­tial for human free­dom. “No aspect of real­i­ty should be allowed to become a defin­i­tive and inhu­man law for us,” Fou­cault says.

We have to rise up against all forms of power—but not just pow­er in the nar­row sense of the word, refer­ring to the pow­er of a gov­ern­ment or of one social group over anoth­er: these are only a few par­tic­u­lar instances of pow­er.

Pow­er is any­thing that tends to ren­der immo­bile and untouch­able those things that are offered to us as real, as true, as good.

Read Foucault’s state­ment of intent, his essay “The Sub­ject and Pow­er,” and learn more about his life and work in the 1993 doc­u­men­tary below.

Fou­cault’s lec­ture series will be added to our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch a “Lost Inter­view” With Michel Fou­cault: Miss­ing for 30 Years But Now Recov­ered

Michel Fou­cault and Alain Badiou Dis­cuss “Phi­los­o­phy and Psy­chol­o­gy” on French TV (1965)

Clash of the Titans: Noam Chom­sky & Michel Fou­cault Debate Human Nature & Pow­er on Dutch TV, 1971

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Martin Luther King, Jr.‘s Handwritten Syllabus & Final Exam for the Philosophy Course He Taught at Morehouse College (1962)

On his way to saint­hood as an avatar of love and jus­tice, Mar­tin Luther King, Jr. lost too much of his com­plex­i­ty. Whether delib­er­ate­ly san­i­tized or just drawn in broad strokes for easy con­sump­tion, the Civ­il Rights leader we think we know, we may not know well at all. King him­self rue­ful­ly not­ed the ten­den­cy of his audi­ences to box him in when he began pub­licly and force­ful­ly to chal­lenge U.S. involve­ment in the Viet­nam War and the per­pet­u­a­tion of wide­spread pover­ty in the wealth­i­est coun­try on earth. “I am nev­er­the­less great­ly sad­dened,” he remarked in 1967, “that the inquir­ers have not real­ly known me, my com­mit­ment, or my call­ing.”

As WBUR notes in its intro­duc­tion to a dis­cus­sion on King’s polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy, the “specifics of his rad­i­cal pol­i­tics often go unex­am­ined when cel­e­brat­ing his lega­cy…. His polit­i­cal and eco­nom­ic ideas are clear in his speech­es against the Viet­nam War and his call to work toward eco­nom­ic equal­i­ty.”

His rad­i­cal stances did not sit well with the FBI, nor with many of his for­mer sup­port­ers, but their roots are evi­dent in his most-pub­lished work, the 1963 “Let­ter from Birm­ing­ham Jail,” in which he coined the famous phrase, “injus­tice any­where is a threat to jus­tice every­where.”

We know of King’s indebt­ed­ness to the thought of Mahat­ma Gand­hi and Hen­ry David Thore­au, and of his the­o­log­i­cal edu­ca­tion. He was also steeped in the polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy of the West, from Pla­to to John Stu­art Mill. In his grad­u­ate work at Boston Uni­ver­si­ty and Har­vard in the 50s, he read and wrote on Hegel, Kant, Marx, and oth­er philoso­phers. And as a vis­it­ing pro­fes­sor at More­house Col­lege—one year before his arrest in Birm­ing­ham and the com­po­si­tion of his letter—King taught a sem­i­nar in “Social Phi­los­o­phy,” exam­in­ing the ideas of Pla­to, Aris­to­tle, Augus­tine, Aquinas, Machi­avel­li, Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, Kant, Hegel, Ben­tham, and Mill.

At the top of the post, you can see his hand­writ­ten syl­labus (view in a larg­er for­mat here), a sweep­ing sur­vey of the Euro­pean tra­di­tion in polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy. Fur­ther up (or here in a larg­er for­mat) see a type­writ­ten exam with sev­en ques­tions from the read­ing (stu­dents were to answer any five). King not only asked his stu­dents to con­nect these thinkers in the abstract to present con­cerns for jus­tice, but, in ques­tion 3, he specif­i­cal­ly asks them to “appraise the Stu­dent Move­ment in its prac­tice of law-break­ing in light of Aquinas’ Doc­trine of Law” (refer­ring to the Catholic theologian/philosopher’s dis­tinc­tions between human and nat­ur­al law).

The syl­labus and exam give us a sense of how King sit­u­at­ed his own rad­i­cal pol­i­tics both with­in and against a long tra­di­tion of philo­soph­i­cal thought. For more on King’s polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy, lis­ten to Har­vard pro­fes­sors Tom­mie Shel­by and Bran­don Ter­ry dis­cuss their new col­lec­tion of essays—To Shape a New World: Essays on the Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy of Mar­tin Luther King, Jr.—in the WBUR inter­view above.

via Dai­ly Nous/The King Cen­ter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

How Mar­tin Luther King, Jr. Used Niet­zsche, Hegel & Kant to Over­turn Seg­re­ga­tion in Amer­i­ca

Read Mar­tin Luther King and The Mont­gomery Sto­ry: The Influ­en­tial 1957 Civ­il Rights Com­ic Book

‘You Are Done’: The Chill­ing “Sui­cide Let­ter” Sent to Mar­tin Luther King by the F.B.I.

On the Pow­er of Teach­ing Phi­los­o­phy in Pris­ons

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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