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  • Longing for a Fantastical ‘Home’

    Self-Reflections on the Problematics for a Queer Tourist and Future Expat in Budapest


    “And when I’m back in Chicago, I feel it

    Another version of me, I was in it

    Oh, I wave goodbye to the end of beginning”

    (Djo 2022 “End of Beginning”)

    In early 2024, the song “End of Beginning” by the artist Djo, more commonly known as actor Joe Keery, started to trend on the social media platform TikTok. Suddenly, the song was everywhere. It refers to the singer’s lived experience in the city of Chicago, at a time before he was famous. He expresses his nostalgic feelings about being back in the city in which he experienced a significant change in his life. A trend was constructed around the song, in which creators posted videos or slideshows with photographs taken of a specific place that they had visited that they have a deep emotional connection with. At this location, they feel like they can be their authentic Self; they can express themselves and grow as individuals; they feel like they have the chance to realise their full potential. The location, often a city, then becomes the stage in which dreams become true, in which one can become a better person just by being there in this magical space. While this message is somewhat removed from the original intent of the song, this interpretation was unanimously accepted by its audience and creators on TikTok.

    In this essay, I would like to talk about my experiences with my own ‘Chicago’. A Chicago that feels like the place I am destined to be, in which I feel like I can grow to be the person I will like the most – my Best Self, so to speak – in which I can teach myself how to be free. A ‘Chicago’ that does not exist for a trans person, and even less so for a trans person in a homosexual relationship: my Chicago is Budapest, Hungary. Budapest has featured in various videos and slideshows shared on TikTok accompanied by Djo’s song, a trend to which I contributed by sharing personal photos that I took during a recent trip to Budapest. Unsurprisingly, all content of Budapest frequently features the architectural flagships of Budapest that are recognisable by a larger audience as part of Budapest’s regional attractions, framed in a way that underscores a romanticised emotional engagement with those sites. Through this, the city is presented as a space in which individual freedom of expression and movement is implied and encouraged. However, when one further investigates the socio-political discourses surrounding Budapest and the Hungarian nation, peeking behind the façade of romantic tourist engagement, an engagement with Budapest as one’s own ‘Chicago’ reveals a very contrasting view.

    The Fantasy

    I am not able to explain my fascination with all things Budapest. In my defence, the city is recognised as a city of fairytales, although it is not explicitly marketed as this. As László Puczkó, an economist specialising in Tourism and Logistics, attests: Budapest “embodies the past, the present and the future” of Hungary (Puczkó et al. 2008, 22). The capital embodies the things that are most emblematically Hungarian, signposting what is pertinent to the Hungarian national identity, and developing the building blocks that will shape Hungarian identity in the future. In contemporary times, Budapest stands out through its architectural diversity which contributed significantly to the central city area being taken aboard the UNESCO World Heritage List, with special attention given to the banks of the Danube river (which splits the city into Buda on one side, and Pest on the other), the Buda castle quarter and Andrássy Avenue. According to UNESCO, the area is “one of the world’s outstanding urban landscapes and illustrates the great periods in the history of the Hungarian capital” (UNESCO n.d.). Photographs of the city proliferate on social media platforms, in which romantic imaginations of Budapest flourish. Beautiful architectural sites, flagship attractions of Budapest, become the main points around which these romantic imaginations are anchored. The perhaps most pertinent is the Hungarian parliament building (Országház) located on the Pest side of the Danube river, which the late Queen singer Freddie Mercury jokingly expressed a desire to acquire. This building, the third-biggest parliament building in the world, is lauded as an architectural icon and is regarded as the country’s most famous building. Its mainly neo-Gothic style makes the complex appear to have just been transported out of a fairytale with its mesmerising grandeur: a shining white symmetrical facade with intricate details, stained glass windows, and crowned by a massive central dome. Other architectural sites such as the Fisherman’s Bastion, the St Matthias Church and the Chain Bridge (Szechenyi híd), amongst others, carry on this fairytale vibe. During nighttime hours, yet another visitor experience is offered when Budapest’s significant architectural landmarks are illuminated in bright orange and white lights (one exemption being the Freedom Bridge (Szabadság híd) which is illuminated in green light). The special architecture and its framing then contribute significantly to the atmosphere of the city. But beyond that, the city also gives rise to the imagination, specifically for a younger audience, with its raging nightlife. The infamous ruin bars in the city’s Jewish Quarter (Erzsébetváros) provide the stage for wild nighttime adventures in dilapidated buildings. Another intriguing aspect for visitors is provided by Budapest’s rich spa culture, and (which is generally very appreciated by tourists) the cheap prices for wine, beer and hearty meals.

    Since the fall of the Soviet Union, as with many of the countries in Central and Eastern Europe, Hungary had run into some issues with its marketing towards tourists. Besides the already existing architectural sites, much of what tourists generally appreciate about Budapest has been initiated since the post-socialist transition years (1989 onwards). To overcome negative stereotypes of ‘Easternness’, the promotion of a quintessentially European image was highly desirable (Smith and Puczkó 2010, 288), and for Budapest, this meant moving forward to establish a distinct city image. Currently, Budapest aims to attract tourists by moving towards developing a more cosmopolitan, tolerant and dynamic image by including the creative industries and contemporary culture, embodied in part by, for example, the annual Sziget Festival.

    Fantasy, Disrupted

    Despite the international marketing of the city, national politics take on a dominant role in shaping the city for a tourist audience. Scholars of tourism have often observed that the politics intrinsic to a destination seep into the marketing discourse aimed at tourists in some form or another; tourism has an inextricable connection to politics. This is highly evident from the generally positive effect of tourism on a country’s economic capital, and the funds allocated by governments towards the goal of attracting visitors to their country. The ruling ideologies in a destination country also play a part in tourism, or even shape tourism explicitly, where governments “introduce initiatives to manipulate tourism for political purposes” and tourists are indoctrinated with certain ideologies that promote the political goals of the destination to which they have travelled (Zuo et al. 2016, 177). In Hungary, tourism is governed by the state. The Hungarian Tourism Agency (HTA) is operating under the Ministry of National Development (OECD 2018), and is therefore intimately tied to contemporary political shifts and presences.

    In the case of Budapest, perhaps the most obvious tourist sight connected to current politics is the parliament building. A stage for Hungary’s political presence, the parliament houses the national assembly that is led by Viktor Orbán’s national-populist government. In their congregations, laws and legislations are introduced or changed, such as the 2021 anti-LGBT law. The parliament also provides the backbone for Orbán’s selective usage of Hungary’s past and heritage in the attempt to establish unity amongst Hungarian people, in a move to revitalise the country back to its ‘former glory’. In general, a dominant trend of altering historical and social memory through carefully constructed propaganda campaigns is completely inescapable in the case of Hungary, and with that, its capital Budapest. While there are many instances to be pointed out in this essay, I will present a select few here.

    A recent visit to Budapest by me, in March 2024, reveals political sentiments pervading the cityscape of Budapest more openly. Recently, the National Consultation has been completed, a survey that encourages Hungarian citizens to share their opinions on Hungarian government initiatives and political sentiments expressed by the European Union. On the 25th of January 2024, Hungarian government published some of the results to the questions of the latest National Consultation, entitled “Szuverenitásunk Védelméről” (trans. “The Protection of Our Sovereignty”), on Facebook, while simultaneously launching a billboard campaign presenting the results in Budapest. While the survey was answered by 1.5 million people, less than a quarter of the country’s 8 million voters, the billboards touted that upwards of 98% of the respondents are in agreement with the government’s position on multiple pertinent issues, such as supporting the stop of weapon transfers to the Ukraine, and opposing: ‘migrant ghettos’ in Hungary, ‘gender propaganda’, EU membership to the Ukraine and genetically-modified Ukrainian grain, and the support of Palestine, as it is seen as supporting terrorism (Inotai 2023, Dlhopolec et al. 2024). While the National Consultation is presented as a reliable source of the dominant political thoughts for all Hungarian citizens – which can be easily dismissed on account of the number of respondents – the billboard campaign nevertheless displays prominent anti-EU sentiments in public. These are seemingly taken for granted, as most of the banners are not showing obvious signs of intervention, e.g. by graffiti or other signs of disagreement with its messages.

    In another space, anti-Semitism has been a problem in Hungary as the country struggles to come to terms with its role in the Second World War. Two memorial sites, both of which are in close proximity of the parliament, contextualise historical events of the Hungarian past in the 20th century: the Shoes on the Danube River (by artist Can Togay, 2005) south of the parliament, and on the Freedom Square (Szabadság Tér), the “Memorial to the victims of the German occupation” (2014), constructed on Viktor Orbán’s orders. The shoes commemorate the victims of fascist Arrow Cross militiamen, as indicated by a plaque near the monument. In September 2014, multiple of the shoes were stolen. However, the Budapest police did not investigate the case, as no crime had been reported. Shortly before this, the 2014 memorial was erected on the Szabadság Tér, under the cover of night and against the wishes of a large majority of the public, just two days after Orbán’s re-election. His intention with the monument was to honour all victims of the German invasion. With that, his attempts to use history for his own political purposes become visible: the monument portrays Hungary as an innocent victim in the war, while completely dismissing its allyship with Nazi Germany. The monument has now become a permanent protest site and hosts a counter-display, against the “forgery of history” initiated by the Hungarian government. Despite the amount of anti-Semitic sentiments, Orbán has established friendly relations with the Israeli government and prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu since 2005. In the current genocide against Palestine, Hungary openly supports Israel and has become the only European country banning all Palestine-related demonstrations since the Hamas attacks in October 2023 (Zsurzsán 2024).

    An Implicated Subject

    In spite of my knowledge of everything I outlined in the previous paragraph, I cannot help but feel like I will be at home in Budapest. I felt this way before I even visited the city, just by looking at pictures, and the feeling has intensified through three past visits. Even though I need to convincingly cross-dress when I go outside, at least I am not getting cat-called on the street, like I do in any other country that I am visiting as a tourist or that I am living in as a resident. One of my dreams is to study in Budapest for a semester abroad and learn the language fluently. I have the unshakeable feeling that I will have the chance to feel more at home than I currently do in the Netherlands. Nonetheless, reality, obviously, is not that dreamy. For one, being able to study in Budapest comes at the cost of having to dismiss my own identity and having to pretend to be something that I am not. Dreaming of a life in Budapest, even just for my own life, actively dismisses the existing socio-political tensions in Hungary. Additionally, sharing the positive image I have of Budapest on social media implies, at least to an extent, an agreement with Orbán’s LGBTQ-phobic, xenophobic, anti-democratic policies and sentiments that are openly expressed in the city, for example through the billboard campaign of the National Consultation. One could argue that if an individual like myself feels at home in a location like Budapest there is no inherent harm in that. However, the only group of people who have the privilege of not having to care about politics – because it does not impact them – are the ones who have been enabled by hierarchical structures to be in a dominant position and are actively benefitting from it. To this end, I would like to briefly argue alongside the American literature and memory studies scholar Michael Rothberg, specifically engaging with his category of the “implicated subject” and “implication”. What he calls attention to is the state of being “‘folded into’ events that at first seem beyond our agency as individual subjects” (2019, 1), and how implicated subjects “occupy positions aligned with power and privilege …; they contribute to, inhabit, inherit, or benefit from regimes of domination but do not originate or control such regimes” (1). Implicated subjects do not take on either the role of the perpetrator or the victim, but their “actions and inactions help produce and reproduce the positions” (1) of these roles. While one can argue that I could be a potential victim of Hungary’s current politics, in proclaiming my love for Budapest, I see myself as contributing to the perpetuation of these politics. The position I am finding myself in is one produced and kept in place by its tensions: yes, I am in a vulnerable position by being in Budapest, and yet my own position is still one that is in power, as I currently do have the privilege to decide whether or not I want to live in Budapest. The only struggle that I have to fight in this space is having to decide whether I am content with temporarily having to disguise myself as a woman – because nothing Bad has happened to me yet. Other people do not have that privilege. 

    Conclusion

    To revert to the beginning of this essay, and Djo’s song “End of Beginning”, in sharing my personal ‘Chicago’, I am making myself complicit in sharing an image of Budapest that implies the possibility of free expression and freedom – an image that is clearly romanticised and removed from reality. Other people who are sharing their personal ‘Chicago’ to a larger audience, for example via TikTok, might be perpetuating similar messages. Audiences of this content consume not just the visual material shared by other people, but also their ways of emotionally engaging with specific destinations, which are often mediated through the framing of a romantic fantasy that lies at the centre of the ‘Chicago’ experience. They might then also be inspired to share their own ‘Chicago’. Personal engagements might, as shown here, also serve to overshadow socio-political tensions in specific contexts, establishing a location to be ‘safe’ and desirable to visit for all audiences, when reality actually looks very different.


    Bibliography

    Dlhopolec, Peter, Edit Inotai, Jules Eisenchteter and Claudia Ciobanu. 2024. “Democracy Digest: Hungary’s ‘National Consultation’ – Not much to say.” Reporting Democracy, 26 January 2024. https://balkaninsight.com/2024/01/26/democracy-digest-hungarys-national-consultation-not-much-to-say/.

    Inotai, Edit. 2023. “Hungary Launches ‘National Consultation’ targeting the EU, migrants and Ukraine.” Reporting Democracy, 20 November 2023.  https://balkaninsight.com/2023/11/20/hungary-launches-national-consultation-targeting-the-eu-migrants-and-ukraine/.

    OECD. 2018. “Hungary.” OECD Tourism Trends and Policies 2018. Paris: OECD Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1787/tour-2018-20-en.

    Rothberg, Michael. 2019. “Introduction.” The Implicated Subject: Beyond Victims and Perpetrators. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

    Smith, Melanie, and László Puczkó. 2010. “Out with the old, in with the new? Twenty years of post-socialist marketing in Budapest.” Journal of Town & City Management 1, no. 3: 288-299. London: Henry Stewart Publications.

    Puczkó, László, Tamara Ratz, and Melanie Smith. 2008. “Old City, New Image: Perception, Positioning and Promotion of Budapest.” Journal of Travel & Tourism Marketing 22, no. 3-4: 21-34. https://doi.org/10.1300/J073v22n03_03. 

    UNESCO. n.d. “Budapest, including the Banks of the Danube, the Buda Castle Quarter and Andrássy Avenue.” UNESCO World Heritage Convention. https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/400/.

    Zsurzsán, Anita. 2024. “Hungary’s Support for Israel Exposes Its Fake Pacifism.” Jacobin, 24 March, 2024. https://jacobin.com/2024/03/orban-israel-rafah-ukraine-hypocrisy.

    Zuo, Bing, Songshan (Sam) Huang, and Luhu Liu. 2016. “Tourism as an Agent of Political Socialisation.” International Journal of Tourism Research 18 (March): 176-185. https://doi.org/10.1002/jtr.2044.

  • The Ethopolitics of Reproduction

    Biopolitical strategies and their effects on the reproductive choices of people with disabilities, chronic illnesses, and carriers for genetic conditions

    (Content Warning: This essay discusses eugenics, abortion, ableism, disability, chronic illness and genetic conditions in a manner which might be uncomfortable or upsetting for some readers.)


    “We face discrimination every day in schools, in the work place and in society. And now thanks to this verdict the judges have upheld discrimination in the womb too.”

    In 2021, Heidi Crowter, a woman with Down syndrome, lost her appeal to the UK High Court concerning a law that legalises the abortion of foetuses with Down syndrome up until birth (BBC 2021). In the UK, abortion is legal up until 24 weeks of pregnancy, except when “there is a substantial risk that if the child were born it would suffer from such physical or mental abnormalities as to be seriously handicapped”. Heidi Crowter and her legal team argued that this legislation does not “respect her life”. Crowter’s appeal was overturned, with the judges of the case stating that the current law balances “the rights of the unborn child and of women [sic]” (BBC 2021).

    Biopolitics

    Michel Foucault, a celebrated French philosopher and historian, argues that the focus of political power has shifted from a power over death (which he calls sovereign power) to a power to manage and administrate life (Foucault 2013, 44). He terms this new kind of power ‘biopower’, and writes that biopower takes two basic forms: “anatomo-politics” and “bio-politics” (Foucault 2013, 44). The latter form, bio-politics, concerns power over the human species itself and the conditions which influence reproduction, birth, death, longevity and health (44). This essay will engage in a biopolitical analysis of the reproductive choices of disabled and chronically ill people, and carriers[1] of genetic conditions.

    I will begin by identifying the biopolitical discourses, policies, technologies and practices associated with the reproductive choices of disabled and chronically ill people and carriers. ‘Discourse’ within the context of this biopolitical analysis should be understood not as the everyday discussions of citizens, but as ideologies and global interpretative frameworks that are introduced by religions, politicians, and other authorities. These discourses have sufficient power to shape or influence policies and technologies. Practices can be understood as lifestyle, and the way in which people tend to behave within a society.

    The discourse surrounding health and disability is very visible in the outcome of Heidi Crowter’s High Court appeal. Disabilities and chronic illnesses are conflated with suffering, and conversely, health and able-bodiedness are associated with positive well-being. This discourse is biopolitical, since it concerns the management of the human population and their health. In response to the discourse surrounding health and disability, policies have arisen or been amended to respond to the threat of disability. The UK Abortion Act, which permits the abortion of abnormal foetuses after the 24 week mark, is one of many laws of a similar nature – in 2017, 61% of countries permitted legal abortions in instances of “foetal impairment” (United Nations 2020, 1).

    In order to more accurately predict the health of a potential human being, technologies such as genetic screening and prenatal testing have been developed, and are often recommended as part of family planning and prenatal care (NHS n.d., John Hopkins Medicine n.d.). The aim of these predictions is to inform prospective parents of the risk of their future children having disabilities or genetic conditions. While online resources are evasive about the next steps once a disability or genetic condition has been discovered in testing, it is safe to assume, given that these tests are offered to those who are planning to start a family, that these tests are intended to be preventative on some level.

    To summarise: on the level of discourse, disabilities and ill-health are conflated with suffering and are thus undesirable. On the level of policies, campaigns and laws are put in place to avoid ill-health, and it is increasingly becoming legal to terminate pregnancies on the grounds of “foetal impairment”. Technologies such as prenatal testing and genetic screening exist to identify, and sometimes ‘disallow’ disability and ill-health via termination. Having briefly discussed the biopolitics involved in reproduction, I will explore the ways in which these biopolitical strategies influence the reproductive practices of disabled and chronically ill people and carriers.

    Abnormality & Disability in Genetic Screening and Prenatal Testing

    In “Biopolitics and Human Reproduction”, Catherine Mills (2017) explores the role of reproduction in biopolitics. Mills writes that 19th and early 20th century biopolitics concerning reproduction involved a great degree of state intervention (283). Regarding the aim of eugenics, she concludes that eugenics aims to secure the survival of the nation through “quality control”, and that control over birth entails controlling who is born, and also who gives birth (288).

    Mills argues that today, the principle of procreative liberty ensures that institutions cannot prevent a person from choosing to reproduce (unless the choice will cause harm to others) – a marked departure from the negative eugenics policies of the 19th and early 20th centuries, which directly interfered with the reproduction of citizens (Mills 2017, 283). However, this is not to say that biopolitics is no longer involved in reproduction. Individuals have the freedom to make their own reproductive choices, but their choices make them responsible for the health of society as a whole; “responsibilized” (Foucault 1990, 104-5 in Mills 2017, 284) prospective parents exercise biopolitical control mechanisms on themselves (Mills 2017, 283-4). In other words, the biopolitical responsibilization of individuals has taken the place of direct intervention into reproduction by institutions.

    Mills continues her argument by discussing the role that “normalization” (282) plays in biopolitical discourse and technologies surrounding reproduction. She writes that the parameters for a normal (healthy) foetus as observed through ultrasound technologies are derived from the measurements of other foetuses – a foetus can fall into the “healthy range” if it exists within a norm that has been “derived statistically from pre-existent bodies” (290). This is not to say that ultrasound technology dictates that a foetus that falls outside of normalcy must be terminated; rather, what is “normal” becomes valued and what is “abnormal” becomes devalued (290).

    Mills proposes that, as opposed to being an innocent measure to observe whether or not a foetus falls within “normal ranges”, prenatal testing technologies which target “foetal malformations” are responsible for creating an association between the statistical normal and a particular quality of life (Kittay 2006 in Mills 2017, 290). Institutions cannot directly intervene in matters of reproduction, but they can present prospective parents with the results of a test that makes an a priori assessment of the quality of life of their offspring, based on associations between statistical normality and the ability to lead a particular kind of life. This association results in the exclusion of the statistical abnormal from the biopolitical community via selective termination (282).

    As Mills argues, the medicalisation of pregnancy has meant that those who can become pregnant[2] have become “moral pioneers”, making decisions about life and death on the basis of medical testing that was unavailable to prior generations” (2017, 289). While the choice to ‘disallow’ life lies with the prospective parents, institutions create and advise on the basis of norms, from which ideas about quality of life, well-being and value are derived (290). As a result of the availability of statistics and predictions about the health of a foetus, prospective parents are made aware of suffering before it happens, and are given the choice to ‘disallow’ it, or ‘allow’ it on the grounds of an ethical obligation to prevent others from suffering through a low quality of life.

    The technologies of contemporary biopolitics ensure that individuals are aware of the risks at play in their reproductive decisions. Responsibilized individuals can no longer “passively” choose to reproduce in the presence of the possibility of disability or a genetic condition. Technologies such as ultrasounds and prenatal tests are so ubiquitous that in refusing to be tested, one makes the conscious choice to ignore the advice of biopolitical institutions. Furthermore, since biopolitical discourse posits that some instances of disability and illness can be prevented via biopolitical technologies, prospective parents who make the choice not to “prevent” these instances of disability and illness are rendered responsible for the health of their children. Thus, every individual reproductive choice – even the choice not to engage with biopolitical technologies – is given an ethical significance.

    Ethopolitics of Reproduction

    Concerning the notion that individual choices have an ethical significance, Nikolas Rose (2001) writes that “contemporary biopolitics is ethopolitics” (2). By ethopolitics, Rose means a political system in which human lives and everyday choices are subject to continual moral judgement by the individual, with the aim of self-betterment (18). In an ethopolitical system, knowledge of one’s own biological and genetic risk factors becomes a part of one’s overall obligation to be responsible (19). Screening technologies allow experts to evaluate or mitigate risk when it comes to individuals’ reproductive decisions; Rose argues that these tests are a way to resolve the difficult ethical choice presented to prospective parents (12). The availability of genetic screening and prenatal testing, and also the possibility to seek an “ethical abortion”, creates a possibility for prospective parents to minimise or prevent the suffering that is associated with ill-health and disability. If one’s reproductive choices can cause suffering (by fostering life) or prevent suffering (by disallowing life), these reproductive choices become ethical choices.

    Evidence of a higher risk (and thus a higher likelihood of the suffering associated with disability and chronic illness) presents an ethical argument, on the basis of biomedical science, against a particular reproductive decision. Rose argues that this has led to the prevalence of screening those in a ‘high-risk’ category for developing particular conditions or passing them on, and the use of amniocentesis[3] in order to identify genetic abnormalities in foetuses. Ultimately, “therapeutic abortion” may be offered to parents whose foetus tests positive for a genetic condition (Rose 2001, 12).

    However, Rose argues, these risk evaluations are based on probability, not certainty. It is impossible to guarantee the results of prenatal screening – genetic testing can indicate a higher risk of developing a disease, but the tests cannot predict whether or not an individual will develop a condition with 100% accuracy, nor can they predict the severity or timeline of a condition with any certainty (12). Choices surrounding reproduction are evaluated not based on a “clear-cut algorithm”, but on a weighing-up of risk. “In this space, biopolitics becomes ethopolitics” (12).

    Furthermore, second-trimester amniocentesis has an 0.1-0.3% chance of causing a miscarriage, even if the amniocentesis is performed by a skilled physician (1-3 in every 1000), and the risk is higher in the first trimester (Mayo Clinic 2022). The evaluation of risk hence involves the introduction of an additional risk. For whom could this additional risk be tolerable? Amniocentesis is usually only offered to those who are in a ‘high-risk’ category, such as those who are disabled and chronically ill, and carriers who have a family history of genetic conditions (Mayo Clinic 2022). The decision to perform amniocentesis in spite of the additional risk involves a judgement of the worth of the foetus. The unmitigated risk of disability or genetic disorder lowers a foetus’ worth, meaning the risk of causing damage or a miscarriage in the process of testing for these conditions is ethically permissible.

    Rose writes that the power dynamic between prospective parents and influential voices within biomedicine is “pastoral” (2001, 9), rather than outright controlling. The ethics of the “guider” (experts on biomedicine) work in relation with the ethics of the “guided” (prospective parents). Rose argues that this pastoral process, whereby the expertise and ethics of the “guider” enter into discussion with the ethics of the “guided” often exacerbates feelings of shame, guilt, and a sense of obligation to a party that is not present and cannot advocate for themselves – the potential offspring of the “guided” (9-10).

    There is much to be said about the affective potential of knowing that one could theoretically ‘give’ one’s offspring a gene that causes them to suffer. On the Genetic Alliance UK website, they have made a plea for those who have such a gene “to remember that genes are distributed by chance and having a faulty gene is no one’s fault” (Fletcher-Dallas 2016), demonstrating that the link between ‘giving’ and ‘causing’ can sometimes be drawn by those who test positive for a particular gene. Some prospective parents could feel as though, since their child is ill or disabled due to a gene they passed on, they have ‘made’ their child ill or disabled. In other words, if a prospective parent is made responsible for their own genes, by passing these genes to their child, they are responsible for their child’s suffering.

    In the case of carriers, whom Rose describes as “those individuals carrying the markers or polymorphisms of susceptibility who are neither phenomenologically or experientially ‘sick’ or ‘abnormal’” (12), their understanding of the predicted quality of life of their potential offspring comes from information provided by “guiders”, rather than their own experiences. They simply carry genes that increase the risk for a particular condition. Any ethical judgements about the quality of life of their offspring, whether on the level of their medical or societal condition, are guided by the pastoral influences of discourse surrounding disability and abnormality.

    Rose argues that, in consultations with biomedical experts about one’s reproductive choices, the affected party – the foetus – is not represented (Rose 2001, 9-10). However, while the foetus may not be able to represent themselves, there may be a person or persons present in the discussion who have an innate understanding of how that foetus would feel should they be ‘allowed’ to live – the prospective parents, should they be disabled or have a chronic illness themselves, can judge their quality of life a posteriori, not a priori. They know what it means to be disabled or have a chronic illness in the society they live in, so they understand the implications for the quality of life of their potential children. This, in combination with the pastoral guidance of biomedical experts who offer a host of preventative measures, means that the reproductive decisions made by disabled and chronically ill people are entangled in an ethopolitics of both affect and empathy. When considering having children, disabled and chronically ill people must consider whether it would be ethical to subject another human being to the conditions they are experiencing.

    Disability, Heritability and Labour

    Worth and Productivity

    In common parlance, the phrases ‘quality of life’ and ‘well-being’ are often used interchangeably. Both terms involve an evaluation of a person’s life, and these evaluations can be either positive or negative. The frame of reference for both of these evaluations can be based on statistically-derived norms, as this essay has previously explored. In this sense, ‘high quality of life’ and ‘positive well-being’ both reflect a valuable life, and thus one can assume that a person with positive well-being also experiences a high quality of life.

    However, there is a significant aspect in which these terms diverge in meaning. While ‘well-being’ concerns an individual’s health and happiness, ‘quality of life’ concerns a much broader range of factors. The World Health Organisation defines quality of life as: “individuals’ perceptions of their position in life in the context of the culture and value systems in which they live and in relation to their goals, expectations, standards and concerns” (WHO 2012, 3).

    Positive well-being is associated with high quality of life, but is not the only characteristic of a high quality of life. In fact, the World Health Organisation Quality of Life (WHOQOL) User Manual explicitly differentiates between ‘well-being’ and ‘quality of life’, stating that “quality of life cannot be equated simply with the terms ‘health status’, ‘life style’, ‘life satisfaction’, ‘mental state’ or ‘well-being’” (2012, 3). The WHOQOL lists six broad domains that are to be evaluated when considering one’s quality of life: “physical health, psychological state, level of independence, social relationships, personal beliefs and their relationships to salient features of the environment” (3). 

    The third domain, ‘level of independence’, is of particular significance in relation to disabled and chronically ill people. In the WHOQOL User Manual, pages 60-61 are dedicated to an explanation of the individual facets of quality of life within this domain. In the explanation of facet 9, ‘Mobility’, it is stated that having to depend on another person for one’s mobility is thought to lower one’s quality of life (60). Facet 10, ‘Activities of Daily Living’, involves an evaluation of a person’s ability to independently perform ‘usual’ everyday tasks (61), again under the assumption that depending on another person to do these tasks lowers one’s quality of life . The assumptions about quality of life inherent to facet 11, ‘Dependence on medication or treatments’, are immediately evident (61). All of these facets involve an assessment of one’s quality of life that is not necessarily concerned with one’s medical or physical reality, but rather one’s status as a dependent within society.

    The tendency of biomedical experts to provide guidance on the basis of quality of life, rather than well-being, initially appears to be an issue of phrasing. However, using the phrase ‘quality of life’ means that not only a person’s projected well-being, but also predictions of the kind of life a person will lead, are involved in an assessment of whether or not it is ethical to ‘allow’ life. The facet of ‘mobility’ does not evaluate an individual’s quality of life on the basis of “impairment” in the sense associated with physical well-being, but rather if that person is independently mobile (WHOQOL 2012, 60).

    The conflation of ‘well-being’ and ‘quality of life’ was not explicitly elaborated on by Mills (2017), but she does note that: “[…] concerns about biological normality are made inextricable from concerns about ways of living well” (291), as a part of her argument that norms of health become associated with a particular lifestyle. Arguably, the practice of incorporating assessments of one’s health and one’s ability to lead a particular, normative lifestyle into a singular evaluative criterion, ‘quality of life’, is a compelling reason for this association. This is not to say that those who are unable to live independently do, in fact, experience a high quality of life. However, low quality of life, to the extent that it could constitute an ethical obligation to ‘disallow’ it is not an intrinsic feature of dependence; it is the feature of a society that devalues life as a dependant.

    The United Kingdom is an exemplar case of such a society. The government of the UK has recently proposed a policy whereby disabled, chronically ill and mentally ill individuals who depend on benefits will have their benefits cut by £4,680 a year if they do not look for remote work (Open Access Government 2023). This policy is openly hostile towards those who are not currently able to work because of their health, and places individuals who were already experiencing financial insecurity in an incredibly difficult position; perhaps an impossible position. It is a biopolitical strategy to attempt to increase productivity, by making an ethopolitical claim that it is a “citizen’s duty” to work, and that working is expected as part of a normal lifestyle.

    Statistically-derived norms, as Mills (2017) emphasises, create an association between fitting a particular norm of health and living a particular kind of life (290). For prospective parents who are aware of the connection between dependency on the basis of disability/chronic illness and a low quality of life, the question of whether their offspring will be able to be independent becomes a part of an overall consideration about their offspring’s quality of life. The issue is not simply the health concerns associated with an individual’s disabilities or chronic illnesses, but whether they can have a high enough quality of life within a society that devalues dependence to an extent that causes additional suffering. Prospective parents with a disability or chronic illness understand this connection, not because they have been made aware of this connection due to the pastoral guidance of a biomedical professional, but because they have likely experienced it themselves.

    Facet 12, within the ‘level of independence’ domain of the WHOQOL, is highly indicative of the fact that human life that is capable of work is valued more highly. This facet concerns ‘Working capacity’. The explanation for this facet is as follows:

    This facet examines a person’s use of his or her energy for work. “Work” is defined as any major activity in which the person is engaged. Major activities might include paid work, unpaid work, voluntary community work, full-time study, care of children and household duties. Because such questions refer to these possible types of major activities, the facet focuses on a person’s ability to perform work, regardless of the type of work. (WHOQOL 2012, 61)


    On the basis of this quality of life assessment, if a person is unable to work, their quality of life would be evaluated more negatively than that of a person who is able to work. Given the hostility of society towards those who cannot work, it is no wonder that an inability to work is counted among health issues, psychological issues and physical insecurity as factors that can depreciate an individual’s quality of life. One can imagine that in a world in which an inability to work is accommodated for, disabled, chronically ill people and carriers could be more optimistic about the quality of life experienced by their potential offspring.

    It could be that some readers have thus far interpreted this essay as an anticapitalist critique, but this is not the case; ableism has existed for far longer than capitalism. This essay is as much a critique of contemporary capitalist societies as it is a critique of the Ancient Spartans, who bathed newborn male babies in pure wine to test whether they could grow into strong warriors, and killed the babies whose constitutions could not handle this (Penrose 2015, 510). Indeed, an anecdote from Herodotus about two Spartan men who were temporarily blinded by the same condition, one of whom went into battle anyway and died, and another who asked not to fight and was excluded as a coward (2015, 512), is almost reminiscent of the UK government’s policy that disabled and chronically people should “find work anyway” or suffer the consequences. Disability/chronic illness activism is necessarily anti-capitalist, since it advocates for those who do not labour, but we must not assume that anti-capitalism is inherently anti-ableist. I hope to have adequately demonstrated that ableist rhetoric is entrenched not only in our political systems but in conventional morality, down to the level of our individual reproductive choices. Regardless of whether or not we live within a capitalist system, the quality of life of disabled and chronically ill people will continue to influence people’s reproductive decisions.

    Moralistic hand-wringing about ‘quality of life’ is ableist and unproductive if it is not accompanied by attempts to actively improve the quality of life of currently-living disabled and chronically ill people. Disability and chronic illness are not immutable. In spite of many attempts in the past and present to prevent disabled and chronically ill life through influencing the population’s reproductive choices, disability and chronic illness will continue to occur spontaneously. As a person living with fibromyalgia (a chronic pain disorder) for a decade as of the date of this publication, I can attest to the fact that able-bodiedness is far more precarious than most of us are willing to accept. Even for those readers who do not develop a disability or chronic illness in their lifetime, those lucky enough to reach old age will experience the realities of life as a dependent individual.

    It is therefore in our best interests to maintain a society that guarantees a positive quality of life for disabled and chronically ill people, but it is as if, having observed our current quality of life, our ethopolitical responsibility has become preventing future disabled or chronically life rather than engaging in activism and societal change on the behalf of future disabled or chronically ill life. One is left to wonder who benefits from discourse that on the one hand encourages the prevention of disability and chronic illness (in other words, the prevention of disabled and chronically ill people), and on the other actively makes the world more hostile for disabled and chronically ill people. It is certainly not disabled or chronically ill people themselves.

    Conclusion

    This essay set out to examine the effects of biopolitical strategies on the reproductive choices of disabled and chronically ill people, and the carriers of genetic conditions. I have argued that the reproductive choices of disabled/chronically ill people and carriers are shaped by biopolitical policies and practices, and that these in turn are informed by ethopolitical discourse about ill-health and suffering. A biopolitical analysis of the discourse, policies, technologies and practices associated with reproduction shows that at every level, disabled and chronically ill people and carriers are influenced by authorities and institutions. In the case of carriers, the ethopolitics of reproduction may indeed be exercised on the level of pastoral guidance and abstract ethical equations, as Rose (2001) argues. However, in the case of those who are disabled or chronically ill themselves, their reproductive decisions are influenced by biopolitical strategies that affect the lives of disabled and chronically ill people at large.

    Furthermore, biopolitical policies that reduce the quality of life for disabled and chronically ill people, such as the one proposed by the UK Government (Open Access Government 2023) not only control how people live, but control who gets to live. The knowledge that life – or rather, the current way of living – is hostile towards dependent individuals influences conceptions about quality of life, creating an ethopolitical component to individuals’ reproductive practices. Disabled and chronically ill people experience this hostility firsthand. If they do make the choice to reproduce, they are more likely to be offered prenatal testing, even if it produces additional risks for the foetus, because life as a disabled and chronically ill person is devalued as a result of the quality of life they experience.

    The biopolitical strategies at play on the levels of discourse, policies and technologies, both on the level of biopolitical management of disabled/chronically ill people and the ethopolitical management of the reproductive choices of disabled people and carriers, promote a self-sustaining, able-bodied and independent population. It is indeed the case that dependent individuals experience a lower quality of life as a result of the ableist society they are born into. Having explored the reasons for the lower quality of life associated with disability and chronic illness, many of which are societal rather than inherent to disabilities and chronic illnesses themselves, it is apparent that positive societal change would likely influence the reproductive choices of disabled and chronically ill people, and carriers of genetic conditions. Notably, making an ethical argument in favour of improving the quality of life of disabled and chronically ill individuals by accommodating us within society, as opposed to making an ethical argument in favour of preventing our lives, is the road less travelled.


    Bibliography

    BBC. 2021. “Woman with Down’s syndrome loses abortion law fight.” Accessed 3rd April, 2024. https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-coventry-warwickshire-58662846.

    Fletcher-Dallas, Robert. 2016. “Making the decision to have predictive testing.” Genetic Alliance UK, July 21, 2016. Accessed January 22, 2024. https://geneticalliance.org.uk/information/service-and-testing/making-the-decision-to-have-predictive-testing/.

    Foucault, Michel. 2013. “Right of Death and Power of Life.” In Biopolitics: A Reader, edited by Timothy Campbell and Adam Sitze, 41–60. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

    John Hopkins Medicine. n.d. “Common Tests During Pregnancy.” Accessed January 16, 2024. https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/wellness-and-prevention/common-tests-during-pregnancy#genetic.

    Mills, Catherine. 2017. “Biopolitics and Human Reproduction.” In The Routledge Handbook of Biopolitics, edited by Sergei Prozorov and Simona Rentea, 281–94. London: Routledge.

    NHS. n.d. “Genetic and genomic testing.” Last reviewed March 1, 2023. https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/genetic-and-genomic-testing/.

    Open Access Government. 2023. “UK Government: Disabled people urged to work from home or face benefit cuts.” Accessed November 29, 2023. https://www.openaccessgovernment.org/uk-government-disabled-people-urged-to-work-from-home-or-face-benefit-cuts/170554/#:~:text=Individuals%20facing%20mobility%20and%20mental,fail%20to%20find%20remote%20work.

    Penrose, Walter D. 2015. “The Discourse of Disability in Ancient Greece.” The Classical World 108(4): 499–523. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24699780.

    United Nations, Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Population Division. 2020. World Population Policies 2017: Abortion laws and policies – A global assessment: Highlights. (ST/ESA/SER.A/448). https://www.un.org/development/desa/pd/sites/www.un.org.development.desa.pd/files/files/documents/2020/Nov/undesa_pd_2020_world_population_policies_highlights.pdf.

    WHOQOL Group. 2012. “WHOQOL User Manual.” Accessed January 24, 2024. https://www.who.int/tools/whoqol.


    [1] Henceforth, I will refer to people who carry genes for genetic conditions as ‘carriers’.

    [2] Mills uses the word ‘women’, but it is more prudent to avoid using gendered language in this instance, as this argument is chiefly concerned with the potential for pregnancy rather than gender identity.

    [3] Amniocentesis involves removing amniotic fluid and cells from the uterus. The procedure is sometimes done to test the genes of the developing foetus, or diagnose a foetal infection (Mayo Clinic 2022).

  • Reviewing Timothy Morton’s Being Ecological

    As the title suggests, Timothy Morton’s Being Ecological is a book about ecology. However, in a sense, the book tries to do more than simply presenting a philosophical, anthropological, or biological perspective on ecology. It tries to give an expansive critique on the way in which a lot of ecological thought is structured, and why this way of thinking is faulty. Morton adds that it is this faulty way of thinking that got us into (climate) trouble in the first place. Within the book, Morton also aims to provide us with a conceptual toolkit that may remedy our faulty ways of thinking. Each chapter follows a relatively similar structure, wherein Morton notes a problem, explicates it, and critiques it. The final part tries to provide a new way of thinking that may remedy this problem. For clarity’s sake, I will also follow this structure in my analysis of the book.

    Factoids, Objects and Neolithic Thinking

    One of the main points Morton argues in Being Ecological is that our way of perceiving reality is fundamentally wrong. While this may seem a somewhat large claim, Morton does provide ample argumentation for this throughout the book. In the introduction, he writes about the way in which we present ecological information to ourselves. Information about climate change is often presented as a compilation of data that must convince us of something – namely, climate change. Morton states that small chunks of data are presented as holding a fact, which he calls “factoids” (Morton, 2018, 8). These factoids appear to factually tell us something about reality, and therefore hold some kind of truth. The reality is that factoids are only interpretations of small pieces of data and are therefore not facts, but only fact-like, as Morton states. A lot of ecological thought is concerned with the idea that if we can compile enough factoids, we will ‘get’ climate change and will be able to act upon it. Morton relates this scientific perspective to the way in which human beings think about reality at large. We perceive ourselves as a rational subject that is independent of the world and can perceive and ‘grasp’ things around it, be that via sight, sounds, or scientific analysis. Objects exist outside of the human psyche and are there to be analyzed, grabbed, utilized, etc.

    This idea of the human psyche being independent of ‘things’ is a symptom of ways of thought that originated in the Neolithic period (Morton, 2018, 50). Morton states that historically, since the move from hunter-gatherer to agricultural society, humans have started to create conceptual separations between animal-human, culture-nature, master-subject. They claim that this idea of human beings being able to rationalize and divide the world has, in turn, led to industrial capitalism and the problems that have arisen from it.

    OOO

    Morton presents his answer to the problem of Neolithic thinking in the form of object-oriented ontology (OOO). Object-oriented ontology is a way of thinking about ‘things’. It proposes that all things exist in the same way, thus there is no way in which human existence is more important than the existence of any other thing. Additionally, it maintains that there are infinite ways of accessing things in the world, such as grabbing, throwing, talking to, drawing on, etc. Therefore, you can never exhaust the way in which things can be accessed. This means that things remain fundamentally independent and can never be fully grasped.

    This also means that all things, animal, plant or stone, cannot be reduced to the way humans perceive them. In this way, OOO can help in combatting anthropocentric ways of thinking, including those that privilege the position of humans above animals and objects. In summary, Morton thus states that ‘being ecological’ is “acknowledging in a deep way the existence of beings that aren’t you, with whom you coexist” (Morton, 2018, 128). This means that we accept the fact that we cannot fully grasp the essence and existence of beings around us, but we also accept that these beings exist, nevertheless. Being ecological is therefore a way of opening up and letting the existence of other beings into our own lifeworld.

    Assessment

    In general, this work is great at tackling the issue of anthropocentrism and presents an original critique and a strong response in the form of OOO. The work goes beyond simply diagnosing the problem in the form of socio-political structures that cause climate change. However, one point of critique that may be raised against this work is the fact Morton writes quite erratically. Morton often begins a chapter by expanding on a certain idea or thought, but then suddenly switches to another subject, leaving the explanation of the idea unfinished. This is a reemerging pattern in the work, and it significantly harms the readability of Being Ecological. Regarding accessibility, I therefore argue that although this work is accessible for a wider public, base-level knowledge of philosophers like Kant and Heidegger is necessary. The reason for this is that, while Morton does explain the ideas these philosophers hold, they are often brought up quite spontaneously in the text. Nonetheless, despite these shortcomings, this is a strong public philosophical work that provides an original narrative about ecological thought, which also serves as a good introduction to Timothy Morton’s further body of work.


    Bibliography

    Morton, Timothy. 2018. A Pelican Introduction: Being Ecological. Pelican Books.

  • Accept to Lose: A Nine-Step Program

    Film and Philosophy: Little Miss Sunshine (2006)


    Dream Journal of the Family Hoover

    • (Step) Father Richard:
      • Dream: publish and reach a big audience with his nine-step ‘‘Refuse to Lose’’ program, which is focused on following nine steps to achieve your dream, to be successful in life.
    • Mother Sheryl:
      • Dream: keep her family together and make her marriage work.
    • Seven-year-old Olive, Richard and Sheryl’s daughter:
      • Dream: participate in a beauty pageant for six and seven-year-olds.
    • Fifteen-year-old Dwayne, Sheryl’s son from her previous marriage:
      • Dream: become an Air Force fighter jet pilot. He has taken a vow of silence until he reaches this dream.
    • Richard’s father, Edward:
      • Dream: use heroin and be high.
    • Sheryl’s brother, Frank:
      • Dream: lost his dream of having a relationship with one of his grad-students, and of being the preeminent Proust scholar in the U.S. Even his dream to commit suicide ended in a failure.

    Jonathan Dayton (director of Little Miss Sunshine): ‘‘Our culture is so built on the idea of chasing our dream. […] But then this [film] is about what happens when those dreams don’t come true and what’s left’’ (Cinema Therapy 2024, 6:14).

    ‘‘Little Miss Sunshine teaches us that it’s okay to feel sad, that it’s okay to lose, to fail, to cry, to scream, [to swear,] to be you’’ (MovieSketch 2021, 0:46).

    What do you want to be in the future? What do you want to achieve? What dreams do you want to chase? What do you want to do after your studies? How are you going to use your studies during the rest of your life? The answers to these questions that we ask each other and ourselves involve a job, an identity, or an individual goal you will spend the rest of your life chasing and maybe, hopefully, one day achieving. But who decides that you have reached your dream? What if you don’t reach it? What happens, what do you do, what are you left with? What if you find out that what you have always wanted is simply not possible? It is not yours to become, to one day be? The existentialist, nihilist, tragi-comedy Little Miss Sunshine (2006) gives possible answers to these questions. For this review, along the lines of Richard’s nine-step ‘‘Refuse to Lose’’ program, I have made a nine-step Accept to Lose program, based on what the film tries to teach its audience.

    Step 1: Realise that it is bullshit to ‘‘Refuse to Lose’’

    ‘‘You say to me: ‘Life is hard to bear.’ But wherefore would you have in the morning your pride and in the evening your resignation?’’ (Nietzsche 2005, 36).

    Together, some of them more willingly than others, the family Hoover goes on a road trip to California to make Olive’s dream of participating in the national Little Miss Sunshine pageant come true. During this journey, every character is also on their own journey, chasing their dreams. None of the family members truly reaches the goals they set for themselves, none of them become who they wish they could be. On their individual journeys they are confronted with this failing and the questions that come with it, questions that push them to develop themselves: When have you actually reached your goal, your dream? Do you play by society’s rules while chasing your dream? Do you need recognition from other people? If so, from whom? Do you want to accept it when you fail? Can you accept it when you fail? Do you really need to ‘‘refuse to lose’’ in order to win, or can you also win when you lose?

    Step 2: Realise that not achieving your dream doesn’t make you a loser, a failure

    ‘‘There are two kinds of people in this world: winners and losers’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 1:25).

    There are those who get what they want and those who don’t, those who never give up and those who do, those who achieve their dream and those whose dreams end in failure. If you make your dreams come true, you are a winner, you are successful, you are hard-working, you are a go-getter, you are an example for other people. If you don’t, you are a loser, you are lazy, you gave up on yourself, you gave up on your dreams, you haven’t sacrificed enough, you are a failure. If that is true, Little Miss Sunshine (2006) is a film about a family of failures. The members of the family Hoover are divorced, suicidal, bankrupt, colour blind, addicted to heroin, and not the prettiest girl in town. They all have dreams they are chasing, but none of them achieve their dreams. What does it really say about who you are when you fail? To what extent do our dreams make us who we are? Winning or losing has nothing to do with where you end up, nor with achieving your goals, nor with being better than other people. You can lose big, but still be a winner.

    Step 3: Set boundaries on what you are willing to sacrifice for your dreams

    ‘‘Whatever happens, you tried to do something on your own. […] You took a big chance, that took guts, and I’m proud of you’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 40:58).

    Is betting everything you have on your dream, sacrificing everything for it, the way to achieve it? And what happens if you bet and sacrifice everything, but still don’t succeed? What do you do with the emptiness and the void you fall into after that? In his dream of making his nine-step program work and receiving recognition for it from a big audience, Richard bets his family both financially and emotionally. The rest of the family loathes him for his demands. He doesn’t bring in that much money with his job, driving his family to bankruptcy and putting the strain of providing for the family entirely on his wife Sheryl. After her first marriage ended in divorce, and her family fell apart, Sheryl is trying to keep this family together, to make it work. In doing so, she sacrifices her own wants and needs to support her husband with a dream she actually thinks is nonsense, pointless and doomed to fail. I think it would have given her character more depth if she would also have had a dream that isn’t related to her being a good mother, wife and sister. A dream she had to push away or sacrifice to be able to provide for her family. This is implicitly mentioned in the film, but it would have been better if the directors had made it explicit as well.

    Sheryl’s son, Dwayne, also makes big sacrifices for his dream. He focuses on nothing other than his goal of becoming a pilot for the Air Force. In order to achieve this goal he sacrifices his relationships with other people, isolates himself and takes a vow of silence. When he fails, he has nothing left to fall back on.

    Step 4: Focus on being YOUR best, not on being THE best

    ‘‘There is no sense in entering a contest if you don’t think you’re gonna win’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 20:39).

    Richard is blind to his family’s needs and keeps pushing them to always be THE best, he strains them in his demand for perfection. Jonathan Decker (therapist) describes the situation as follows: ‘‘The family starts tearing at the seams because of this perfectionism. Because we’re not focused on being YOUR best. We’re focused on being THE best.’’ Valerie Faris (director): ‘‘As if that’s even an achievable goal’’ (Cinema Therapy 2024, 6:49-6:57). Therapist Jonathan Decker and director Valerie Faris make an interesting point here, because is it even possible to achieve a dream that is based on the idea of being THE best? That is based on winning? When do you achieve your dream? What and whom does it depend on? What can you control? You have to focus on what lies in your power, not of what is outside of your power. You are in control of being YOUR best, what you can’t control is being THE best, because you can’t control other people. You are in control of how you see yourself, you aren’t in control of how other people see you and whether you will be recognised as having achieved your dream by others. You are in control of trying, journeying, chasing your dream, you aren’t in control of the specific outcome that you are trying to achieve.

    Step 5: Realise that success isn’t permanent

    ‘‘I just want everyone here to know that I am the preeminent Proust scholar in the United States’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 32:00).

    ‘‘Did I mention that I am the preeminent Proust scholar in the U.S.?’’ (1:00:06).

    Even if you have achieved your goal, have reached your dream, this isn’t always static and permanent (MovieSketch 2021, 2:29). This becomes clear in the character of Frank. He had reached his goal and became the preeminent Proust scholar in the U.S. Not only did he see himself that way, he was also recognised as such by other scholars. He didn’t merely do HIS best, he became THE best. So, shouldn’t he have been introduced as the example for the rest of the family? As the achiever of the nine-step program? The one who reached his dream, who can now tell the others how it is done? No, instead he has hit rock bottom at the very beginning of the film, he has attempted to take his own life. It is only a matter of time before he also loses his dream, gets dethroned and someone else becomes the number one Proust scholar in the U.S.

    Step 6: Realise that failure isn’t final

    ‘‘Fuck beauty contests. Life is one fucking beauty contest after another. You know: school, then college, then work, fuck that. […] You do what you love, and fuck the rest’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 1:24:02).

    So if you have achieved your dream and then lose it, or if you don’t achieve it at all, where does that leave you? What if you lose everything you have and all hope is lost? What is still in your control? Sometimes you hit a wall, you are obstructed in achieving your dream by your own incapability, or by the rules, regulations, and expectations of society. But just as achieving your dream won’t last forever, failure isn’t the end, it’s not final. You can find another way, dreams can change. Life isn’t about trying harder than you actually can, sacrificing everything to ensure a certain outcome, to achieve your dream. It is about dreaming, about hoping, about accepting failures and seeing them as stepping stones, as teaching moments, not within a nine-step program to success, but within your development as a human being. Life isn’t about individually trying to chase your big hopes and dreams. Of course, those can give direction, but eventually it is about finding hope and dreams in the small things, in your everyday life. It is about failing, learning not only to accept failure, to accept set-backs, but to embrace them, learn from them, be aware of the opportunities they give, and see them as a part of your life.

    Step 7: Support each other’s dreams and failures

    ‘‘Whatever happens, we’re a family. And what’s important is that we love each other’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 51:55).

    Little Miss Sunshine (2006) shows that no one exists in a vacuum. Chasing your own dreams, achieving them, focussing on your individual goals isn’t enough. Life is about connection: connection to other people, connection to the people you love, and who love you. It’s about supporting each other, helping each other work for your dreams, being there for each other when there are set-backs. None of the family members achieve their goals, except maybe Olive and Edward, of whom you could say they made their dreams come true, even if it’s in a way they hadn’t envisioned. In the end, the family members are able to be there for each other, support each other, and accept each other, and in turn feel supported and accepted by the other members of the family. Helping those close to you chase their dream in addition to chasing your own dream and being supported in that dream makes that you can share the happiness when that dream is achieved, but also that you can share the disappointment and sadness when that dream fails.

    Step 8: Accept others for who they are and accept yourself for who you are

    ‘‘We gotta let Olive be Olive’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 1:28:14).

    Human beings are dynamic, they change. A future you envision now, may not be the future you want when that future becomes the present. Dreams change all the time. Dreams, success, failure, they all build the road you walk during your life, every moment again. Instead of keeping your eyes on the future and thinking about what life will be like, what you will make of yourself, who you will, maybe one day, be, instead of asking questions like: What do you want to achieve? What do you want to become? What/Who do you want to be? More interesting may be to keep your eyes on the here and now, on how you are developing yourself, on what is happening in the world in this moment, on who you are, and to ask questions like: Who am I right now? What is my life like? Is that the life I want for myself, or do I want to change something? What do I want to change? What lies within my power to change? What drives me? What interests me? Whom do I support? Who are the people that support me? Whose support do I want or need? What is happening in the world right now? How do I want to relate to that? What am I willing to sacrifice now for achieving my dreams in the future? How far am I willing to go and what lines do I not want to cross? What are my smaller dreams? What are my big dreams and goals in life? When have I achieved those, if ever? How do the dreams I have for the future influence how I live my life now? Is that what I want? Is that who I am?

    Step 9: Accept that there are only 8 real steps in this Accept to Lose nine-step program. I could have come up with a 9th one, but that’s not the point…

    ‘‘A real loser is somebody that’s so afraid of not winning that they don’t even try. And you are trying, right?’’ (Dayton & Faris 2006, 2006, 45:30).


    Bibliography

    Cinema Therapy. 2024. ‘‘Therapist Reacts to Little Miss Sunshine with Directors Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris.’’ Youtube Website. Therapist Reacts to LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE with Directors Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris – YouTube.

    Dayton, Jonathan & Faris, Valerie. 2006. Little Miss Sunshine. United States: Searchlight Pictures, Big Beach, Bona Fide Productions, Deep River Productions, Third Gear Productions & Major Studio Partners.

    MovieSketch. 2021. ‘‘Why I Watch Little Miss Sunshine When I’m Sad.’’ YouTube Website. Character Teaser – Vala | AFK Journey (youtube.com).

    Nietzsche, Friedrich. 2005. Thus Spoke Zarathustra. New York: Oxford University Press.

    Sohn, Jin-Young. n.d. ‘‘How Does ‘‘Little Miss Sunshine’’ Reflect The Philosophies Of Proust And Nietzsche?’’ The Take Website. How does “Little Miss Sunshine” reflect the philosophies of Proust and Nietzsche? | Read | The Take (the-take.com).

  • Sowing Seeds of the Future

    I hope for a Future

    when We can just be,

    when We don’t have to choose 

    an identity,

    when We can exist

    in Our complexity,


    I hope for a Future

    when We can be free,

    of every division,

    class, and category,

    restacking the deck,

    of history,


    I hope for a Future

    without hostility,

    when We put emphasis

    on empathy,

    when connection, compassion,

    is all We see,


    I hope for a Future

    when We can just be,

    I’m starting this Future

    making it Reality,


    do You hope for a Future,

    when We can just be?

    are You starting a Future,

    this Future with Me?

  • The Hopes and Dreams of a Student in a Foreign Country

    There is a Portuguese word for a melancholic feeling of remembrance, of longing for someone or something that has been past, the absence of a once pleasing experience that is currently not being lived. The word is Saudade. It cannot be translated very well, and perhaps that is what makes it so dear to all of us Portuguese-speakers. The fact that it is something exclusive emphasizes the feeling of togetherness within the Portuguese-speaking community, and gives space for a discussion about all the things that provoke Saudade in someone. Saudade relates to a particular void you find within yourself – to that empty part of your heart or your soul –  because you no longer have something that once gave you joy. Nostalgia might be close, but that only considers the past, it does not provoke a hollowness in you where there once was something so dear and so good.

    In an editorial team meeting on the theme of the next Splijtstof issue, with much discussion, and the permanent, ever-agonizing feeling of Saudade in the back of my mind, the editor-in-chief, Sophie, challenged me to write a piece on this feeling exactly. I was asked to think about writing on the concept of living abroad, studying philosophy, and battling many different emotions, all with one end: to follow my hopes and my dreams. How can Saudade relate to the future and how can the present accommodate such a feeling of emptiness? The feeling of pursuing a goal is something so thrilling and yet so terrifying. It is part of pursuing your own hopes and dreams and therefore Saudade should always be given free rein to carry out its business.

    You can have Saudade for everything, anything a person, a place, a vacation, a lost sensation, your favourite pastry, and so on. The first thing that comes to mind, for me, is my home. As a student who decided to leave my country in search of new, different, opportunities, I have to say that the feeling that takes over my body the most is the feeling of Saudade. I miss my home, my spot near the beach, my mother, my dog, the daily morning espresso with cinnamon, the traditional and not-so-crass crassness of the man working at the café. I miss speaking my own language, being able to relate on a deeper level with the people walking next to me on the street, exchanging a glance with a stranger and sighing when the line in front of us is too long, being able to express myself in a way that doesn’t require an explanation of a term as long as the one I am writing now.

    The reality is that I left all of this behind. I had my own ambitions that required moving countries and studying there. This entailed starting a whole new life in a place that, quite frankly, is extremely alien from all that I had previously known. Mind you, I mean no disrespect towards the life I have now. I have found my own new reality, one which includes a 4 euro Latte Macchiato, a language barrier that makes me slightly uncomfortable – but not enough to make me leave – and an awful lot of biking. I have chosen this life. Whereas the life I had at home was the life that was given to me: a product of the hard work of my parents and the result of years of tradition in an ancient country. I didn’t really have a say in the way I lived my life. Even though I do, theoretically, have my own rationality, as an individual, independent thinker, who can choose to do things for myself, the deeper truth is that my old life was based on following a crowd, following all that had been done before me. It was based on comfort in tradition, and comfort in what had already been confirmed as efficient and productive.

    The fact that one does not move in an autonomous direction but rather in a flow that is not one’s own, is a reflection of how small we are. In this world, with one minor decision, your whole life can change. You are suddenly a small fish in the ocean, with endless possibilities, hopes, and dreams big enough to fill the entire ocean. Saudade is a way of staying in your own sea, in your own little river, a comfortable place that allows you to not make decisions for yourself, to flow with the current, and still live a relatively comfortable but slightly mediocre life. Saudade, in this sense, undermines the rationality that was so vehemently emphasized during the Enlightenment period; a rationality which many people so strongly advocate for today. This is the idea of being enlightened as a way to step out of the minority which life has set upon you. Making haste to consciously decide to grow and develop one’s own rationality, without interference, is a very Kantian Perspective of Enlightenment, one which I regard as key for anyone with a big decision on their hands.

    To follow my dreams, I chose a new life. I stepped out of the bubble that for so long had coddled me and devised in me a person who loved her nationality, who loved her home, her language, her food, her ability to express the term Saudade. I have learned new things, in fact, I might have learned more from the philosophy life has taught me (by suddenly living alone in a completely different country), than from the philosophy a professor has taught me at a violently early 8:30 a.m. class about Mbembe and his necro-political philosophical theories.

    Choosing to pursue an ambition is a difficult task, one which, I think, is underestimated and taken for granted in the western world. I have found that most people take moving out alone at a mere 18/19 years old to be standard, not necessarily to change countries, but to study and live alone at such a young age is seen as normal. It is a phenomenon that I believe is not discussed on the level it should be discussed. Following your dreams should not automatically entail the pain and anxiety that moving abroad does. From learning what type of olive oil to buy, to knowing that there are certain sweaters that I cannot simply throw in the washing machine, to missing my mother’s hug at the end of an endless-seeming day, none of it is easy. It is an excruciatingly painful, slightly boring, definitely confusing, and excitingly curious process. And this rollercoaster of emotions is exactly what we ought to build on.

    I feel there ought to be some sort of explanation, a disclaimer about all of these emotions when making a conscious decision of following ambitions. It is important to understand that a long process of hardship, fun, emptiness, partying, loneliness, and sometimes all of them simultaneously, will await students. This was something I was not prepared for.

    I was not prepared to follow my hopes and dreams and be met with despair and shocking reality. The thing that perhaps would have helped me was if there were more conversations about how following one’s dreams entails a staggering reality check, where my new truth and new reality was not always ‘dreamy’ and ‘hope-y’. The life I had chosen was the opposite of all that I had previously lived, different to all that I had known and that had known me.

    I try to put these feelings, these confusions, and pains into words, to talk about them with my friends, to see if there is a way of relating them to me, but verbalizing my anxieties is never easy. And so, I am limited to writing, which is what most people turn to in times of distress. Writing, as a way to get rid of my uncertainties, takes me to poetry:


    The seagulls have become crows

    The sound of waves has become the sound of trees

    The sand has become grass.

    The time passes fast, but slow?

    The sun remains the same

    when it is there, that is.

    But the place changed

    The habits changed

    The friends changed

    The house is not the same

    The pillow doesn’t embrace my heavy head in the same way,

    Coffee has a different taste, not exactly good.

    But the heart is there.

    Split between two places

    In a constant crossroads

    Not knowing where to belong.

    maybe to both, who knows.

    My soul longs for something.

    I am yet to discover what that is.

    I don’t know if it is the feeling of having something complete…

    For I feel so incomplete

    and at the same time so full.


    My current reality is bleak, raw, and uncertain. But one thing is for sure, choosing to pursue my hopes and dreams might not have been easy, but it is a changing process, it is an inconstant and beautiful oscillation filled with Saudade and one which is strictly necessary for my personal growth. Without the challenges that life gives you, what is your life but an extension of that which came before you? Making your own choices, following your dreams, giving in to your hopes, entails making sacrifices, but at least they are your own sacrifices. Take it as an ode to (Kantian) Enlightenment, to emancipation, to being able to make educated decisions for yourself; that, certainly, looks better on paper.

  • Splijtstof Support Statement: Radboud University Encampment

    Splijtstof publicly declares its support for the student movements that have called for the condemnation of the ongoing genocide in Palestine. We, students and staff of Splijtstof, are in full agreement with the four demands:

    • Condemn the genocide in Palestine.
    • Disclose all ties with Israeli universities, institutions and companies.
    • Boycott all academic collaborations with complicit Israeli universities.
    • Divest from complicit companies and funds.

    The right to protest must be defended. Genocide and complicity in genocide cannot be ignored.

  • Nijmegen for Palestine: Demands for Radboud University

    Nijmegen for Palestine (NFP) has made the point clear: Radboud must suspend ties with Israeli universities. And yet our university does not listen. In order to give NFP the space to express themselves and provide a detailed and nuanced account of their demands, I interviewed some members, and asked them about their organisation: who is NFP, and what do they want?

    There are, in this discussion, a few individuals to introduce:

    • Jihad is a Palestinian man and student at the HAN University of Applied Sciences in Nijmegen.
    • Mike is a Jewish activist and student of Medical/Human Biology at Radboud University in Nijmegen.
    • Gijs is a Dutch activist and student of Philosophy, Politics and Society at Radboud. 
    • Anya Topolski is an associate professor of Philosophical Ethics and Political Philosophy at Radboud. She is also the founder of the NGO Another Jewish Voice (Belgium). She was consulted on these topics.
    • I am a British man and activist, also a student of Philosophy, Politics and Society at Radboud.

    On the 17th of November Jihad, Mike, Gijs and I sat down to discuss the ongoing war in Palestine and the aims of NFP. Nijmegen for Palestine is a democratic collective of students and activists united in their shared commitment to activism in solidarity with Palestine. In light of the terrible crimes committed by Israel and Hamas, their operations and membership have expanded.

    This article was written in order to publish an exposé on the organisation of NFP in their own words. The demands for Radboud University are not solely formulated by NFP, but rather by the Students for Palestine organisation and aimed at many Dutch universities. NFP has tailored their demands slightly to meet its needs from Radboud.

    Like Jihad, Mike and Gijs, I too am deeply concerned with the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Genocide is to be defined here as “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group” (Segal 2023). Segal’s article, published in Jewish Currents ominously concludes: “Israel’s goal is to destroy the Palestinians of Gaza.” We are therefore united in our aims to question Radboud’s official position and decision to remain silent in the face of genocide. It is important to us all that we engage with the university and pressure it to act in light of the ongoing war in Palestine.

    This article will outline the four key aims of NFP with regards to Radboud University:

    • Taking an active stance because there can be no neutrality.
    • Transparent disclosure and severance of all official ties with Israeli universities.
    • The establishment of direct, institutional, and official ties with Palestinian students and universities.
    • To encourage academic freedom and discussion, and an end to the academic censorship.

    Non-Neutrality

    The first demand of NFP is to take a moral stance and condemn genocide. While academics from various faculties are actively educating students, Radboud as a formal institution makes no comment. In a statement on 20th October, Radboud claimed to be “concerned about the armed conflict in Israel and the Palestinian Territories” and to “speak out against any violation of human rights.” (Radboud 2023). Radboud spoke out against Russia following its invasion of Ukraine, actively condemning the war (Radboud 2022). So there is a strong precedent for taking an active stance in relation to politics. “Russian institutions were boycotted, and the language used in statements was very direct and unambiguous. But when it’s done by allies of the of the Netherlands, it’s not the same,” says Mike.

    My first question to the activists was therefore: how do you perceive this “neutral” stance?

    Mike: “Neutrality promotes the idea that the status quo, the state of affairs of the last 75 years, is neutral. A lot of colonial violence is just hidden behind a fog of so-called neutrality.” 

    Gijs: “By aligning themselves with the status quo, Radboud fails to recognise what is happening in Palestine. It implicitly agrees with the frame that Palestinians are the aggressor and that Israel’s actions are legitimate forms of self-defence. This completely ignores the Nakba, 75 years of ethnic cleansing, the ongoing settling of the West Bank, the brutal imprisonment of 2 million people in Gaza, and the fact that Israel’s actions in Gaza right now effectively amounts to genocide.” 

    Leading academics of the discipline of settler-colonialism (Salamanca et al 2012), academics at Radboud (Topolski 2023) and academics at Israeli universities themselves (Bashīr and Goldberg 2019) all resound with NFP in condemnation of the ongoing genocide in Palestine. The list of academics from Radboud and the wider academic community joining in condemnation is long and loud.

    Radboud, however, chooses to project impartiality.

    Jihad: “This is not neutrality, but inhumanity.”

    It’s an alignment with the status quo of slow genocide. “This status quo”, he added, “is that the Netherlands does not recognise Palestinian identity. The Dutch government denies Palestine as a country’s legitimacy. As Radboud has set its own precedent of actively condemning war and human rights violations, neutrality over Palestine actually means to side with this narrative, to stand with the government’s position, which is firmly pro-Israel, and to stand with Israel, in ongoing genocide.”

    I therefore asked NFP, what exactly do they want in terms of university positioning?

    Mike: “Clear official positioning. In line with the calls of other universities in the Netherlands, there must be acknowledgement of the fact that there is a genocide happening. Condemnation of the war. Like they did with Russia.”

    Academic Boycott

    The second demand of NFP is the disclosure and freezing of all official academic ties with Israeli universities. Dutch universities in the 1980s boycotted apartheid South Africa, and Radboud effectively boycotted Russia in 2022 (Radboud 2022). This shows, again, that there’s a precedent set. 

    I therefore asked NFP: Why do you call for the disclosure of ties?

    Mike: “There is a lot of information concerning the connections that we just don’t know, because it is it just not available. So we just don’t know in which way Radboud is cooperating with Israeli institutions.”

    Gijs: “Universities in the Netherlands (although Radboud is a little different because of its status as a special university), have democratic elements. We have the student council here, and the point is to have some democratic decision making for students. But that doesn’t work if we can’t know anything about the actual policy of Radboud. If everything is opaque, how are we going to make a decision about something that we don’t know about?”

    “What exactly does this academic boycott entail?” I asked.

    Mike: “Academic boycott in the sense of no cooperation with Israeli academic institutions, even if it isn’t specifically on projects facilitating genocide, that it is still cooperating with institutions whose purpose it is to maintain these settler-colonial relations.”

    My next question was: “Why do you want to freeze these ties?”

    Gijs: “Israeli universities support their governments, just as Dutch universities are of their government, of course. They support the Israeli military with their research so we find it very problematic that our university, democratic, where we think we should have a say, supports an ongoing genocide.”

    The Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement clearly documents Israeli Universities, partner universities of Radboud, in their complicity with the Israeli state and its actions in Palestine. “Tel Aviv University, for example, has developed tens of weapon systems and the ‘Dahiya doctrine’ of disproportionate force employed by the Israeli military” (see Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement, and Khalidi 2014). To sever ties with these institutions means to sever ties with the academic arm of a state that is committing genocide.

    Furthermore, NFP argues, as a democratic university Radboud must listen to their scholars and students. In light of the genocide in Gaza, 19 professors at the university organised a teach-in to educate students on the war. Since then, they have created a public seminar series called the Situating Palestine Collective, in which Radboud itself plays no part. The collective is quickly growing and has already hosted two events at the time of writing.

    Gijs: “Radboud must listen to the critical scholars they employ: what they say about this, how they understand the war in the context of genocide and settler colonialism. They specifically employ these scholars because they are knowledgeable about these topics. I think it would be a great step for Radboud to take to make use of this knowledge and listen to their employees.”

    Build Direct Solidarity with Palestinian Students and Universities

    A self-described “emancipatory” university “committed to equal rights for social and cultural minorities” (Radboud Mission, n.d.), Radboud markets itself as an emancipatory university.

    I asked: “How do you propose Radboud builds solidarity with Palestinian universities and students?”

    Mike: “Radboud needs to amplify Palestinian voices and involve them more in the academic knowledge production. It must join movements initiated by Palestinian students, as well as offer scholarships, offer funding, initiate programmes that do epistemic justice to Palestinians and build university connections with suitable Palestinian partners.”

    Gijs: “[The marginalisation of Palestinian voices] undermines the idea that Radboud is a decolonial university. Because through Israel, it protects colonial interests of the West in the Middle East area.”

    Mike: “Radboud sees itself as a critical university, yet it never makes public statements in opposition to the interests of the Dutch government.”

    Academics of the Philosophy faculty seemingly agree; they are providing informative lectures on the Nakba and Shoah. At the second lecture entitled ‘Situating Palestine through the Lens of Settle Colonialism’, Dr Noura Alkhalili (from Palestine) outlined her struggle for higher education at Birzeit University (through her experience during the 2nd Intifada), given how Palestinian universities are constantly targeted and systematically silenced and isolated.

    Radboud itself must cooperate with the Situating Palestine Collective, and support Palestinian academics, rather than remaining neutral and upholding the government position. To fulfil the “emancipatory” criteria they set themselves, Radboud and other universities must distance themselves from governments and entrenched Zionism.

    Radboud must therefore be willing to take a critical stance and “change perspective” (Radboud’s motto) on the mainstream media/government narrative that Israel is a legitimate actor in this conflict. In order to uphold its projected emancipatory identity, action is needed, not simple marketing campaigns. Radboud should build connections with Palestinian universities, offer scholarships to Palestinian students. This way they can contribute to amplifying Palestinian voices in the West Bank and Gaza. 

    Jihad: “To do so otherwise constitutes the usual hypocrisy of the Western political community.”

    According to Dr. Anya Topolski, what Jihad refers to as hypocrisy and many European liberals refer to as double standards, are “quite simply the true colours of the structural racism of the legal and political system we have built.”

    Political institutions have been built for those in what Franz Fanon calls the zone of being, what Dr. Topolski has theorised as the zone of the humanised. This is the zone in which we can speak of a legal framework, appeal to rights and freedoms. It is also the zone of administration and regulation, of material resources and recognition – it is a zone where we can articulate and have individual identities and stories. While most in Europe live in this zone, not all; the undocumented, the homeless, the poor. Those excluded from the zone of being have a very different lived experience, one much closer to those of many other parts of the world – the zone of non-being, the zone of the damned of the earth, the zone of dehumanisation. In this world there are no rights and no recognition, there are no individual names or stories, just numbers. There is continuous oppression, violence, poverty. This is the world most Palestinians have been living in since the Nakba. While slowly more and more people are willing to see this, for too long many chose not to see it.

    Though we might want to see this as double standards, the reality is that this is part of structural racism foundational to the political and legal system we have established in the aftermath of the Shoah. It is tragic that it is now being used to silence academic freedom and Palestinian stories and voices. This, we believe, epitomises the need for Radboud to build direct solidarity with Palestinian universities and individuals.

    Encourage Academic Freedom and End Academic Censorship

    When our discussion came to the issue of academic freedom, NFP has plenty to say. 

    Jihad: “We need to make it clear we are not antisemitic. To support Palestinians against Zionism is in no way antisemitic.”

    Since the recent rise in violence from October 7th onward, the world has seen tragic rises in both Islamophobia and antisemitism (Yang 2023). This rise in hate entails that activism and education are ever more crucial. Conversation is needed to help not only maintain a safe space for everyone, but to address the systemic problems we’re facing here; both in Islamophobia and antisemitism. 

    Mike: “As a Jewish person I feel very safe with the Palestinian solidarity movement. Antisemitism is just not part of the movement because people understand that they’re fighting against genocide.”

    The current silence on campus (except for the demonstrations of NFP) is seen as an issue. NFP’s demands state that: “We believe the university’s silence as this genocide unfolds has created a socially unsafe atmosphere that implicitly intimidates and suppresses our academic freedom.”

    The university must maintain appropriate safe spaces that facilitate dialogue and prevent hatred. They should not leave this in the hands of students and professors but take responsibility for the administration of the campus, as is their prerogative. When this is done, Radboud can support critical discussion on the war in Palestine. 

    Jihad: “Here in the Netherlands, news from a Palestinian perspective cannot be seen in the Dutch language – no way. You have to go to Al-Jazeera or something like that, to watch the real news, from the other perspective. All the Western media is just one perspective, so we need to break that illusion, ideally through education.”

    Conclusion

    In our interview, NFP outlined their four main demands for Radboud University:

    • End the neutral stance. 
    • Support the academic boycott of Israeli universities.
    • Build solidarity with Palestinian academia. 
    • Promote academic freedom over censorship.

    I join calls with NFP for our universities as democratic institutions to listen, to change and to act. Radboud cannot continue to stay silent and complicit with Israeli genocide in Palestine.

    NFP organises regular demonstrations, events and more. Information can be found on Instagram: @NijmegenforPalestine.

    More of Charlie’s articles can be found online at: https://charliehardsw.wixsite.com/politics.

  • Splijtstof 52-2

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  • The Fall of Western Puritanical Morality as a Descriptor of Cultural Variation

    Introduction

    Cultural evolution is a notion that describes social practices and beliefs as continually changing. While humans are in a continuous process of biological evolution, their sociocultural practices are also transforming. Particularly, practices of puritanical morality are changing due to cultural evolution. These are practices whereby one’s actions align with cultural standards of what is considered pure. Puritanical morality can be understood as a double-sided coin, with ideas about what is pure and good on one side, and ideas about what is disgusting and bad on the flip side. This paper will focus on the impact cultural evolution has on puritanical morality while also acknowledging variations in the way it manifests in different cultures across the globe. This is a topic of interest in contemporary society because it entails discussions about how different societies have different practices and why those who are not a member of a society may not understand the purpose of these practices.

    A notable change to puritanical morality is the decline of its presence in Western societies. Cultural evolutionary theorists like Fitouchi, André and Baumard have proposed possible explanations for why Western practices are no longer, or significantly less, puritanical. However, in their explanation, the three co-authors propose that Western societies no longer need puritanical morality to remain orderly. They present the argument that Western culture has evolved, changing individuals’ psychologies to the extent that they are more disciplined than those of other societies. Consequently, this paper will argue that their approach towards non-Western societies is needlessly ethnocentric[1]. In doing so, an alternative approach will be formulated, conceptualising puritanical morality as a form of conventionality and, therefore, a single descriptor of cultural variation that does not make any society more advanced than another.

    Therefore, this paper will begin with an examination of Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s approach to the fall of Western puritanical morality. In analysing the implicit assumptions made by these theorists, criticism of their argumentation will be formulated. Next, this paper will consider what exactly is meant by “puritanical morality”, resulting in the claim that it is a form of conventionality consisting of social norms. After establishing that puritanical morality practices are (often) not moral in an objective, righteous sense, this paper will explore the alternative account of declining Western puritanical morality. This exploration will include an explanation of why this approach overcomes the issues raised about Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s view, ultimately leading to the conclusion that cultural evolution has brought differing norms and practices to all societies, whereby none can be considered better than others.

    The Fall of Puritanical Morality in the West

    In order to investigate the perceived fall of puritanical morality practices in Western societies, one may consider the explanation proposed by Fitouchi, André and Baumard in their 2022 paper addressing the topic. Their publication, “Moral disciplining: The cognitive and evolutionary foundations of puritanical morality” (2022), reflects on the function of puritanical values in contemporary societies. They consider the extent of this function to vary from one society to another over time, resulting in the argument that specifically Western societies no longer need puritanical morality.

    Nonetheless, before an accurate analysis of Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s explanation can be formulated, one must first examine what they consider to be puritanical morality. In the aforementioned paper, they describe puritanism as moral concerns “governing domains as various as sex, food, clothing, self-discipline, entertainments, and ritual observance” (2022, 6). In this sense, one’s mode of living may be significantly affected by the puritanical values upheld in the societal context in which they are situated. They also define puritanical morality as a strict, self-disciplinary “moralization of apparently victimless pleasures that humans crave” (2022, 4). Hence, people may desire to partake in some behaviours but abstain because the behaviour runs contrary to a moral sense of righteousness or purity.

    Though, it is important to note that the rejection of many supposed cravings is historically present in most societies. Despite the seemingly negligible overlap in domains such as food and clothing, Fitouchi, André and Baumard refer to studies suggesting that over 80% of the world’s population adheres to the same puritanical values (2022, 6). This statistic is demonstrated by the use of religious and spiritual communities as examples. These are considered contexts where many puritanical values co-occur despite the domains in which they govern having little to no compositional overlap. Meanwhile, research conducted by Curry, Mullins and Whitehouse implies that seven values are believed to be morally good worldwide. They propose that some well-established, universal forms of cooperation result in these seven morals: family values, group loyalty, reciprocity, bravery, respect, fairness, and property rights (2019, 48). Their research further supports the claim that moral values and judgement thereof can transcend sociocultural contexts, at least to an extent. Therefore, Fitouchi, André and Baumard illustrate that puritanical morality entails many human societies adhering to a set of seemingly unrelated values. The fact that a significant portion of the world’s population historically agrees that some practices are inherently wrong is a crucial element of this paper since, as these authors note, puritanical morality seems to be related to cultural evolution.

    Nonetheless, the cultural evolutionary approach in Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s paper attempts to explain the decline of puritanical morality in specifically Western societies. They borrow the term “WEIRD societies” from Henrich, referring to “Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, and Democratic societies” (Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan 2010, 1). From this point onwards, this paper will also borrow Henrich’s term. Before applying their explanation to WEIRD societies, Fitouchi, André and Baumard lay the groundwork for their argument. They claim that practising puritanical morality increases self-control because it allows people to “remain peaceful neighbors, faithful husbands and wives, industrious workers” (2022, 9). Consequently, the practices condemned by puritanical morality beliefs are perceived as socially harmful. Thus, at the core of their argument lies the notion that puritanical morality prevents social harm caused by people who otherwise lack self-control.

    Next, Fitouchi, André and Baumard apply this principle to the declining puritanical morality practised in WEIRD societies. They claim that puritanical morality is costly, restricting some pleasures and imposing “effortful disciplinary activities” (2022, 35). Therefore, puritanical norms should only be warranted when the result is worth the cost. As such, the argument follows that the cost is appropriate in situations where “spontaneous self-control” is not enough to “ensure social order and acceptable levels of cooperation” (Fitouchi, André, and Baumard 2022, 35). Meanwhile, in what they describe as “rich environments” such as WEIRD societies, people generally have “more inherently self-controlled psychologies”, “invest more in extended prosociality”, “are less susceptible to impulsive defection or retaliation”, and “have higher trust in others” (2022, 35-36). In terms of cultural evolution, this argumentation implies that WEIRD people’s individual psychologies have progressed beyond the need for puritanical practices, as this decline is noticed in changing alcohol consumption patterns over the course of the past millennium (Vallee 1998, 80). In this particular example, alcohol use has rapidly transformed from a type of medicine to an indispensable source of calories, and, today, a regularly relied-upon “social lubricant” (Vallee 1998, 80-81).

    Meanwhile, in formulating their argument, Fitouchi, André and Baumard refer to Michael Walzer’s publication, “Puritanism as a Revolutionary Ideology” (1963). He analyses a variety of case studies in which puritanical morality was considered helpful in maintaining social order. One particular study follows the punishment of poorly-behaved children who were believed to be deviating from puritanical norms. Although it is important to recognise that Walzer’s article is approximately sixty years old, he suggests that a father embodies the role of governing a family and disciplining the children. He argues that this role is due to an “extraordinary fear of disorder and anarchy” (Walzer 1963, 85). Fitouchi, André and Baumard apply their argumentation to Walzer’s analysis of this case by suggesting that weak-willed individuals who are “perpetually tempted by selfishness” (2022, 35) must rely on puritanical morality in order for their societies to function. They begin with the idea that (Western) authoritarian punishment, such as the father disciplining his children in Walzer’s case, leads to rich environments where people “view others as spontaneously cooperative” (Fitouchi, André, and Baumard 2022, 35). Therefore, members of these rich environments – hence, WEIRD societies – are believed to have started viewing each other as instinctively self-controlled and trustworthy.

    Thus, Fitouchi, André and Baumard suggest that a fear of social disorder led to stricter disciplining of individuals who deviated from puritanical norms. The argument follows that this discipline and punishment has played a key role in WEIRD cultural evolution whereby individuals became inherently more self-controlled and trusting of others. Consequently, the three thinkers propose their explanation of the declining puritanical morality in the West on this basis.

    Issues with Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s Account

    Despite recognising cultural differences in puritanical morality today, Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s argumentation has considerable cultural evolutionary consequences. Particularly, in suggesting that WEIRD societies are more self-controlled, disciplined and trustworthy than non-WEIRD societies, they maintain a needlessly ethnocentric approach. Their argumentation leads to the implication that non-WEIRD people are less psychologically advanced and that they are falling behind WEIRD people in terms of cultural evolution. While it is the case that each society and culture has evolved in a unique way, Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s suggestion that individuals in WEIRD societies have evolved to better embody attributes such as trustworthiness and self-discipline appears to be implicitly biased.

    The three authors are themselves situated in a WEIRD sociocultural context, meaning that they are accustomed to Western values and acquainted with Western development. Particularly, Western economic and industrial development has resulted in “living in highly dense urban population centres” (Heigham 2019). Although the emergence of densely populated areas is not a uniquely Western phenomenon, further research indicates that WEIRD people have relatively high expectations in problem-solving due to the abundance and wide accessibility of technology. Ecologist Steve Heigham suggests that Western individuals in close proximity to each other may be more compelled to adhere to social norms due to these high expectations (2019). Fitouchi, André and Baumard appear to take this approach, too, in suggesting that WEIRD people have become more trusting of others to adhere to these norms.

    However, this approach to cultural evolution is disputable because the question of how much researchers’ experiences and personal sociocultural contexts influence their arguments remains unanswered. Undeniably, WEIRD people are more acquainted with WEIRD societal practices and behaviours. As Henrich explains in The Secret of Our Success (2016), some practices can only be understood at the group level. This means that often, one cannot know the function or meaning of a cultural practice unless one is a member of the group in which it is practised. The implication of these “causally opaque” (Henrich 2016, 68) practices is that Western authors like Fitouchi, André and Baumard can only understand the function and meaning behind Western practices, in the same way that Heigham explains the relation between norm adherence and technology reliance in problem-solving expectations. The mistake these approaches make is found in their comparisons to non-WEIRD societies because Western researchers can only make assumptions, usually laced with implicit ethnocentric bias, about practices outside of their own sociocultural context.

    Hence, it follows that Fitouchi, André and Baumard attempt to explain the perceived fall of puritanical morality practices in WEIRD societies by comparing them to non-WEIRD societies whose practices cannot be understood by outsiders. Their bias may be unintentional, but since these authors are situated in a WEIRD sociocultural context, they are accustomed to and aware of specific changes in WEIRD norms. This paper is not necessarily claiming that these authors are uneducated or ignorant of changes in non-WEIRD cultural values. Instead, the aim here is to argue for an alternative explanation of the perceived fall of puritanism in WEIRD societies that is not needlessly ethnocentric. Thus, in the sections that follow, this paper will expand upon a cultural evolutionary approach that considers sociocultural norm variation while also acknowledging the significant co-occurrence of some moral values (Curry, Mullins, and Whitehouse 2019, 48).

    Are Puritanical “Morality” Practices Actually Related to Morality?

    In order to conceptualise an alternative account of the supposed fall of puritanical morality in WEIRD societies, one may consider the extent to which puritanical behaviours are actually related to morality. This can be done through an analysis of moral disgust, the idea that humans feel revulsed at another human’s action that fails to “uphold the group or relationship norms” (Nabi 2010, 695-96). Furthermore, an ongoing discussion in several psychological and philosophy of mind domains concerns whether moral disgust is actually related to morality and ethics at all. This discussion plays a key role in discerning the “moral” aspect of puritanical morality since the public response to deviating from puritanical practices is a form of moral disgust. Examples of moral disgust in puritanical practices are seen in negative attitudes towards clothing considered too revealing and excessive alcohol consumption in public spaces. While this relatively short paper cannot divulge all aspects of the moral disgust debate, it will adopt the position that disgust is a matter of convention and use it as a starting point for an alternative account of Western puritanism, or lack thereof.

    First, it is important to consider the core of the moral disgust debate. Like many researchers, Royzman and Kurzman conclude that moral disgust is “elusive” (2011, 270). In analysing a series of experiments, these researchers investigated the expression of moral dyspepsia – a feeling of sickness or disgust at another person’s behaviour. They aimed to analyse the hypothesis that feeling disgusted at someone else’s behaviour is the same kind of disgust induced by the sight of vomit and faeces, for example. While the results were inconclusive, several of the studies examined by Royzman and Kurzman demonstrate that when exposed to bad smells or tastes, the participants generally made more discernible facial expressions when they were aware of being observed (2011, 269-70). This suggests that the expression of disgust may function as a strategic signal. This is relevant to the moral disgust debate because moral disgust may also function as a strategic signal to in-group members, especially in children’s acquisition of social norms.

    Moreover, in discussing the moral reasoning of WEIRD societies, Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan consider the ways in which children develop moral values. Using the Kohlberg model, they illustrate that WEIRD children develop their moral reasoning in three stages: pre-conventional, conventional, and post-conventional (Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan 2010, 13). During the pre-conventional stage, these children distinguish between right and wrong based on internal standards and consequences – e.g., it is wrong to do something that causes pain. Next, in the conventional stage, morality is based on external standards that maintain the social order of the group – such as the father in Walzer’s case study that disciplined his disorderly children (Walzer 1963, 85). Lastly, WEIRD children enter the post-conventional stage where they no longer rely on another person to teach them how to behave. In this stage, they refer to “abstract ethical principles regarding justice and individual rights – the moral code inherent in most Western constitutions” (Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan 2010, 13). Though, it is essential to note that this moral code should also be considered a form of conventionality since it is a set of rules comprised of generally accepted standards or social norms.

    In terms of the Kohlberg model, puritanical morality can also be considered part of the conventional and post-conventional stages. Despite governing domains that have seemingly little overlap (i.e., food, clothing, sex), puritanical morality functions as a set of generally accepted standards or norms. Puritanical practices may be adopted in the conventional stage, whereby the external standards of respected individuals influence children. Meanwhile, during the post-conventional stage, puritanical practices and values may be present if they play a significant role in the child’s sociocultural context and moral code. For example, Jonathan Haidt analyses puritanical practices in the Hebrew Bible containing “rules about food, menstruation, sex, skin, and the handling of corpses” (2012, 25). Although some may argue that the Hebrew Bible does not play as big of a role in the moral code of many Western societies today, it has significantly influenced this moral code historically. The puritanical morality found in the Hebrew Bible follows a logic of remaining “pure” because purity is associated with God, whereas impurity or dirtiness is associated with animals (Haidt 2012, 110). Haidt notes that disgust may also influence the logic of puritanism since there is often an emotional dimension seen in rules about eating “things that swarm upon the earth” (2012, 25). In this analysis, Haidt asks his reader to consider the emotional dimension in this logic by imagining a swarm of mice rather than a singular mouse, suggesting that induced feelings of disgust towards the possibility of certain actions (i.e., eating mice in this example) have been introduced and maintained by puritanical thinking.

    Despite the Kohlberg model focussing on WEIRD children specifically, it can function as one possible description of the ways in which puritanical morality is a form of conventionality. Specifically, it is a useful description of how WEIRD societies maintained puritanical practices historically while allowing room for changes to normative sources such as external influences and moral codes. Meanwhile, the notion that moral disgust may be a form of strategic signalling is also useful in reconceptualising puritanical morality as conventionality. It can account for at least one aspect of introducing societal norms to children in any sociocultural context, alongside maintaining these norms. When a child successfully discerns a signal of disgust, especially displayed by respected and influential group members, they may also start using this signal. If this is the case for most people in a society, displaying disgust towards a certain behaviour becomes conventional. Therefore, applications of the Kohlberg model and disgust signalling can function as valuable descriptions of puritanical morality as conventionality.

    Thus, the extent to which puritanical morality practices can really be considered a form of morality depends on a society’s conventions constituting what is believed to be moral. These practices are not moral in that they maintain behaviours necessarily and objectively right while condemning those necessarily and objectively wrong. Many people worldwide would disagree that wearing clothing made from two (or more) different fibres is necessarily wrong. Nevertheless, it is believed to be wrong by those in the sociocultural context whereby this clothing practice is condemned. This is an appropriate moment to reiterate Henrich’s claim that some practices are “causally opaque” (2016, 68), meaning that unless a practice is conventional in one’s own society, one may not understand its meaning or function. In this sense, puritanical morality is understood as a form of group-level conventionality whereby the righteousness of its practices is subjective to its context.

    An Alternative Account of the Declining Puritanical Morality in the West

    Thus far, this paper has argued that puritanical morality is not declining in WEIRD societies due to WEIRD people having more self-control and being more trusting of others. There must be another reason for this decline. It has also been argued that puritanical morality is a form of group-level conventionality rather than objective moral righteousness. Consequently, the next appropriate point of analysis entails an alternative account of the declining puritanical morality in the West that acknowledges it as a form of conventionality comprised of social norms. This alternative account begins by returning, again, to Henrich’s “causally opaque” practices (2016, 68).

    In chapter seven of The Secret of Our Success, Henrich uses the processing technique of Tukanoan manioc in Amazonia as an example of a causally opaque practice (2016, 97-101). In this particular case, it is difficult to grow other crops, meaning that manioc is a large part of the Tukanoan people’s diet. Since consuming the roots of the plant can cause cyanide poisoning, it is important that children learn how to process it correctly. In this case, the young Tukanoan people learn how to process the roots from the previous generation, who had learnt from the generation of people before them, and so forth. Henrich illustrates that because these techniques work, those preparing the manioc are unaware that it can cause cyanide poisoning (2016, 98). Instead, they may believe that they are preparing it in a way that removes the bitter taste and reduces the likelihood of reactions like diarrhoea.

    Moreover, the preparation process is rigorous and takes multiple days to complete. Therefore, Henrich asks his reader to imagine someone realising that one of the steps – boiling the manioc – is sufficient in only removing the bitter taste and possible reactions (2016, 99). Since they would be unaware that manioc consumption can cause cyanide poisoning, anyone who eats the food they prepare would eventually develop symptoms of such. However, despite the possibility that Tukanoan people could start experimenting with removing steps from this time-consuming process, they continue to use the techniques passed on for generations. While removing seemingly pointless steps may be the most commonsensical thing to do, the Tukanoan people have faith in the traditional processing method. For Henrich, this notion sits at the core of causally opaque practices because someone who is not a part of the group “cannot readily infer their functions, interrelationships, or importance” (2016, 99). Consequently, some cultural evolution practices can only be understood at the group level.

    Henrich’s understanding of causally opaque practices in cultural evolution can be applied to puritanical morality practices. For instance, Haidt describes a US “virginity pledge movement” during the 1990s (2012, 156), whereby group members vowed to remain celibate until marriage. For individuals who were not part of this movement, it may be unclear why a vow of celibacy is important to the group. In this sense, someone with no affiliation to the group can only make assumptions about why vowing to remain celibate is important to its members. They may assume it is important in upholding religious values. In contrast, someone who is unfamiliar with references to celibacy in the Bible, for example, may assume it is important for another reason.

    Meanwhile, Henrich’s notion is instrumental in formulating an explanation of the declining puritanical morality in WEIRD societies without ethnocentric undertones. The previous explanation examined in this paper is that of Fitouchi, André and Baumard, who claim that WEIRD people have culturally evolved to be more trusting of others and self-controlled, among other things (2022, 35-36). While it is likely that cultural evolution is responsible for the fall of Western puritanism, these authors make the mistake of comparing changes in Western cultural practices to non-Western cultural practices – often incomprehensible to those outside of their specific sociocultural context. Since Fitouchi, André and Baumard are WEIRD people, the argument that puritanical morality is present in non-WEIRD societies because their members are not disciplined enough to uphold social order without it is merely an assumption. Their argument fails to recognise that a (non-WEIRD) society may maintain a puritanical practice for causally opaque reasons.

    Furthermore, Fitouchi, André and Baumard take an individualist approach to cultural evolution by focusing on one’s psychology in discussions surrounding discipline and impulsiveness. A key issue with this approach is its implication that WEIRD individuals have evolved to transcend the need for puritanical morality. This implication falls dangerously close to suggesting that WEIRD societies are comprised of individuals with a superior psychological makeup because they no longer need to rely on puritanical practices to function. However, Henrich provides a group-level analysis of cultural variation that accounts for the fact that many societies have at least some values in common. This alternative approach does not maintain a needlessly ethnocentric attitude because it suggests that the fall of Western puritanism is simply one descriptor of cultural variation and adaptation. It maintains that every society is culturally varied from another in some way, while none are comprised of more psychologically developed individuals than others.

    A critical aspect of Henrich’s understanding of cultural evolution is that young learners and even adults “unconsciously attend to and preferentially learn from others” they consider successful, respected and prestigious members of their society (2016, 4). In this view, one’s values and behaviours stem from people they consider role models. This approach is highly compatible with the notion that puritanical morality is a form of conventionality because it is a set of social norms generally agreed upon within a society. Individuals adhere to these norms because the associated behaviours are learnt from respected members of one’s own group. Earlier in this paper, moral disgust is evaluated as a strategic signal, suggesting that it can account for introducing and maintaining societal norms in their particular sociocultural contexts. Therefore, moral disgust can be considered a feature of cultural evolution insofar as individuals discern and then replicate the signals of prestigious group members.

    Similarly, the maintenance of particular sociocultural norms can be considered a form of overimitation in cultural variation. When exploring features of social learning, researchers Berl and Hewlett consider the function of overimitation. They begin their analysis by defining overimitation as “the high-fidelity copying of causally irrelevant actions in the presence of clear causal information” (2015, 2). Therefore, overimitating is the act of copying all of another’s actions exactly despite knowing that one or more of their actions is unnecessary. A simple example of overimitation is when two people buy bottled smoothies. The first person may shake their smoothie bottle five times in an up-and-down motion. When the second person observes this behaviour and also shakes their smoothie bottle five times in an up-and-down motion, they are overimitating. The second person did not necessarily need to mirror the first person’s actions, as shaking four times from left to right would have been adequate, too. While overimitation is not confirmed as a universal social learning feature in every society, it has been observed in a range of societies (Berl and Hewlett 2015, 4). Hence, overimitation appears to play a role in introducing and maintaining norm-adhering behaviours in at least some WEIRD and non-WEIRD societies.

    In addition, puritanical morality practices can be considered a form of overimitation. This paper has established that puritanical morality may be considered a set of norms that govern seemingly unrelated domains like food and clothing. However, despite these domains having little to no overlap in their content, Fitouchi, André and Baumard illustrate that many societies adhere to the same set of norms (2022, 6). In this sense, it can be argued that individuals in certain sociocultural contexts overimitate when they practise puritanical morality. The reason why some people from various cultures consider both excessive public alcohol consumption and short skirts disgusting is unclear. Nonetheless, it is still the case that lots of different people from different societies agree with these same values. Hence, the practice of puritanical morality can be considered the overimitation of respected group members over generations. Following Henrich’s cultural evolution, one can consider the centuries-long, if not longer, overimitation of the same puritanical norms as other groups in terms of the formation of populations and new societies. Henrich explains that social institutions “integrated local groups into larger regional populations” (2016, 221). Therefore, cultures began to evolve in a new way when smaller groups joined to make larger societies. The social institutions he mentions play an important role because they are responsible for both the moral code seen in WEIRD children’s post-conventional stage of moral reasoning and the causally opaque practices seen in manioc preparation. Thus, despite the relatedness of puritanical norms being causally opaque, they appear to be overimitated as the prestigious members of some societies have upheld these values by learning from those prestigious in the generation before them, and so forth.

    Next, one is left with the final question of how puritanism is falling in WEIRD societies if it continues to be overimitated in (some) other societies. To propose an answer to this question, one can return to the notion of social learning by observing and reproducing the behaviours of respected group members. In WEIRD societies today, many people respect and learn from influencers or celebrities (Heigham 2019). These celebrities’ behaviours are also imitated, from eating at restaurants they recommend to buying articles of clothing they are seen wearing –­­­­ perhaps even in the same colour. Like puritanical practices, the relatedness of specific restaurants and specific items of clothing is causally opaque. In both WEIRD societies and societies that practice puritanical morality, the only observable aspect of this relatedness to those who are not a member of the group is the fact that successful and well-respected members also have these practices.

    Therefore, when puritanical morality is understood as a form of conventionality rather than associating it with objective righteousness, a society may stop practising it, or some aspects of it, because it no longer plays a significant role in social norms. Consequently, this has led to an alternative account of declining puritanical morality in WEIRD societies that understands it as cultural evolution. In this sense, the presence of puritanical practices in a society is simply one descriptor of cultural variation and adaptation. This approach allows for a non-ethnocentric account of changing WEIRD practices. It argues that the respected members of WEIRD societies whose behaviours are overimitated simply behave differently from those in other societies. Hence, WEIRD people are not necessarily more disciplined and less impulsive; they have different, and not better, causally opaque practices.

    Conclusion

    Overall, this paper has criticised Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s explanation of declining puritanical morality in WEIRD societies and provided a non-ethnocentric alternative. The three authors demonstrate that although the domains of puritanical morality, such as clothing and food, are seemingly unrelated, a significant number of the world’s population practice these beliefs. They argue that puritanical morality is necessary for upholding social order because it makes individuals more self-controlled and disciplined. Without it, they suggest, a society’s social order is at risk because people may be tempted to pursue selfish pleasures such as adultery (Fitouchi, André, and Baumard 2022, 9). Hence, they believe that a WEIRD fear of social disorder caused stricter disciplining of individuals, which ultimately led to the redundancy and decline of puritanical morality.

    However, this paper has argued that Fitouchi, André and Baumard’s explanation of the phenomenon is problematic. Their argumentation leads to the implication that non-WEIRD people have somewhat fallen behind WEIRD people in cultural evolution. Their approach is ethnocentric, especially since these authors are WEIRD. They cannot know the importance, meaning, or interrelationships of some non-WEIRD practices because they are not members of those groups. Hence, they appear to have an implicit bias in attempting to compare their understanding and experience of WEIRD practices to non-WEIRD practices that they cannot fully understand.

    Consequently, this paper proposes an alternative account of declining puritanical practices in WEIRD societies. Starting from a conceptualisation of puritanical morality as a form of group-level conventionality, it has been argued that such practices are a set of societal norms rather than objective moral righteousness. Therefore, in applying Henrich’s ideas on cultural variation, this paper suggests that people acquire norms and practices via social learning. Causally opaque practices (Henrich 2016, 68) are learnt from prestigious and respected group members and may be passed on for generations, as seen in the preparation of Tukanoan manioc. This notion can be applied to puritanical morality since someone who is not a group member can only make assumptions about the group’s practices. Thus, Fitouchi, André and Baumard make the mistake of comparing WEIRD practices, of which they are a group member, to the assumptions they make about non-WEIRD practices.

    The proposed alternative explanation understands the fall of puritanical morality in WEIRD societies as a matter of cultural variation. It argues that the presence of puritanical morality practices in a society is simply one descriptor of cultural variation and adaptation, whereby a WEIRD society simply overimitates and expresses different behaviours than a non-WEIRD society. Ultimately, this approach concludes that the cultural evolution of WEIRD societies has merely led to different, and not better, practices.


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    [1] Defined by Merriam-Webster as “characterized by or based on the attitude that one’s own group is superior” (Merriam-Webster, n.d.).