Category: Articles

Affect displacement

 

In classical Freudian analysis, affect displacement (Affektverschiebung) occurs when the energy with which a particular drive or desire is endowed with a view to its realization, is displaced to an alternative object (an alternative purposive schema) under the action of the censoring activity of the superego.

Freud mainly considers sexual or aggressive drives and their unconscious repression, which results in observed behavior which draws on the energy associated with the taboo object for purposes which sedate or partially realize the drive while avoiding the taboo content. For example, the unconscious desire to kill the father may be expressed in sadistic behavior towards others in the environment where such behavior is more tolerated by social norms. Nevertheless, the Freudian schema would seem to operate wherever, and for whatever reason, drive gratification is unavailable, including in cases where the rationale for repression is conscious or, at least, represented to the consciousness in some form. This need not cover only supposed social taboos, but also complex ethical nexuses of the subject which draw energy from a variety of sources, some being drive repression but others including compassion, collaborative behavior or perceived self-interest. In other words, I may decline to do things based on grounds which I can rationalize to myself as being ethical, and that rationalization may indeed not be entirely without merit: on occasion it may even be fully merited; it is still the case that drives will seek gratification and that the affect will be displaced onto a cognitive schema which is available to the mind and in some way superficially resembles the censored course of action. When a given situation arises repeatedly, habitual pathways are formed in the mind which automatically direct the energy towards the displacement object. In clinically observed contexts this may lead to what is qualified as obsessive-compulsive behavior but in reality such behavior is a matter of degree and characterizes all of us.

The Freudian schema is simple to understand and, together with its extensions as I have suggested, seems to shed light on much observed behavior. Nevertheless, from my perspective there is also something deeply unsatisfying about it, for it offers no account of the origin of drives or of their legitimate role in our lives, encouraging us to treat psychic material as suspect and failing to recognize that the good life is unlivable on the basis of reason alone. Freud seems to view most instinctive activity as at best catastrophically naïve and at worst as decidedly sinister. This is why repression is not only justified from the standpoint of the reality principle, but often, he would seem to suggest, wise and desirable. Although he is often credited with killing the philosophical concept of the self, it seems to me that he does no more than displace the Cartesian body/mind dichotomy into the mind itself; descriptively, primary processes overdetermine behavior, yet normatively he would rather they did not. All he seeks to do is moderate the worst excesses of a repression which remains imperative and inevitable.

This Hobbesian account of drive formation needs, it seems to me, to be unmasked and to be challenged, since it matches in no particular the knowledge of the human psyche we have from anthropology or experimental psychology, never mind any spiritual insights we may have into the question. In short, if drives are to be mistrusted then their repression is likely to be advantageous in many instances. What we see, however, is that we frequently repress drives which should be trusted (or which at least should be interpreted and prompt some kind of action) simply because of an irrational or at least cowardly fear of their consequences. That we do so is an obvious consequence of (and at the same time the generative precondition for) what Foucault called the social construction of subjectivity.

In repressing drives, often we lose touch with our inner voice. When what we do is habitually conditioned to the prompting we receive, we dissipate the energy which sought to guide our steps and render ourselves insensitive to basic callings of our heart. In this way, we frustrate not only desires which we are perhaps well advised to reconsider; we frustrate our whole life’s purpose. We may, in fact, be well aware that what we are doing is only a poor substitute for what we really want; we do it regardless and we are continually dissatisfied with ourselves, sometimes truly burdened with shame or self-hatred. When the prospect of drive fulfilment becomes more manifest and we continue to deny it to ourselves, this tension may become unbearable. These are moments of existential crisis and of decisions which will have ramifications for many lifetimes. It seems to me that, however scary it may be to move your life into alignment with your soul’s purpose, the alternative is, or should be, more scary still.

Does spiritual growth require hard work?

 

A recurring theme in pretty well every spiritual tradition is the arduous nature of the practices needing to be undertaken in order to achieve spiritual growth. Indeed, this tendency is so pervasive that it is even often to be encountered in the ranks of those whose fundamental philosophy would seem incompatible with such a hypothesis. On the face of it, it seems, however, a very self-limiting belief. If I believe that only after long and arduous effort will I achieve my goals, then I am blind to grace in the here and now and necessarily consider myself unworthy of what the universe is gifting me. Perhaps I even downright refuse it.

The path of suffering is conceived of as redemptive in many traditions, even when it is inimical to the basic economy of salvation which that tradition puts forward. For those of us familiar with biblical Christianity, it is pretty clear in both the original Jesus tradition (i.e. Q) and in the later layers of the New Testament that salvation is an unmerited grace. This has nevertheless remained as shocking a view in the course of church history as it doubtless was when first expounded; and very many moralists and theologians have shied away from it or reinterpreted it to fit their moral a priori. How can it be that I belong to the community of the elect if there is no lower limit on the infamity of my behavior here on earth?

I do not wish to expound scripture here (not something I am given to doing), or solve the problem of evil, but I should of course point out that the notion that there is, after all, something to be done in order to secure salvation is a very convenient one for ecclesiastical hierarchies, without which their whole raison d’être would at the very least need to be radically reconsidered. The cui bono then is clear, especially when it fundamentally contradicts the supposed sacred texts.

It seems to me that the whole notion that salvation or enlightenment can be earned is patent ontological nonsense and should be mercilessly put to rest. Enlightenment is, or can be, as easy as breathing. But is our reluctance to give up the idea of spiritual practice as necessary to, or at least somehow facilitating, spiritual growth solely due to the fact that we have been brainwashed into following orders? Very largely, but not I think entirely. Spiritual growth does not require work, but it requires choice; and choice is hard. Not because it encounters resistance – true choice does not – but because we are not free to choose. We have limited our ability to choose in so many ways that we need to unlearn, and surely there are spiritual practices that can help us in this unlearning. This, however, does not turn them into prerequisites or even make them efficacious. The contrary belief, it seems to me, is more of an obstacle than anything these practices may be designed to overcome.

I think spiritual growth is super-easy, and the easier we make it the easier it will be. At the same time, that easiness itself may, for many of us, be very difficult. But spiritual growth is a process, it is not an end point. What you need to learn now is easy for you to learn now. Stop repeating the mantra of difficulty and it will stop being difficult.

It is very fortunate for the human race that spiritual growth is easy because, if it were not, few would venture onto the path and fewer still be successful. That tiny elite would never suffice to heal the massive wounds of the planet and cataclysm would be the only possible outcome.

You may object that this very state of the world we now live in gives the lie to what I am saying. But I think the fact of its easiness has to be revealed and has to be accepted. This has to date too rarely been the case. As I said, even spiritual authors whose work I value are often guilty of giving at least passive sustenance to the myth of difficulty. It seems almost inevitable: what else would they write about and how would they earn a living? But I do not criticize them: it may well be that many people need difficulty before they can discover that they do not need it. I do, though, want to emphasize that we need to be alert to this bias in spiritual literature and practices because it is one we are also very attached to in our hearts. Spiritual teacher X may not really be saying that you need to follow the Y-fold path of whatever in order to attain enlightenment, but even if (s)he isn’t, we are very likely to interpret their words in that sense. That is because in fact we do not want enlightenment or at least not too much of it; all we want is comfort. And a true guru knows this. I have absolutely no problem with that if it is your choice; really, it is totally legitimate, there is no blame attached. No-one is saying that you have to release your entire karmic burden in this lifetime. This may not be possible for you. All I am saying is that you can. It is no more difficult than you make it.

If you have a practice, let it be something that gives you joy.

Love and blessings,

The urban shaman

 

In recent years there has been a considerable revival of interest in the West in shamanic practices, both those conserved by indigenous peoples and more syncretic forms such as Michael Harner’s “core shamanism“, Wicca and various nativist revival movements.

Whilst I certainly don’t have the anthropological knowledge to discuss this at length, however, it seems to me that Harner’s notion of a traveller between worlds who typically seeks to effect individual healing, which seems to owe an uncomfortable amount to Mircea Eliade‘s unreliable speculations, clearly fails to cover the entirety of the phenomena we have come, for perfectly comprehensible reasons dictated by a respect for, and the study of, actually observed cultures, to refer to using the shamanic label; and indeed it runs the risk, if used as an interpretative filter, of distorting the rest. Eliade’s shaman is in essence an intercessor, and Harner’s inherits this characteristic which owes a great deal to Eliade’s more than debatable assertion of a primary division of the world between sacred and profane. Whatever the role of technicians of the spirit realm in indigenous communities, others within those communities emphasize healing by means of plants, ordeals or personal journeying; they also fulfil ritual functions within the community, intervene in matters of collective interest and play at times a prophetic role as well. The shaman, as we now conceive of this role, is anyone devoted to healing and protection of the tribe and its environment as well as of individuals within it, and different persons may embody different gifts and vocations within this overall nexus. Eliade’s and Harner’s accounts easily tend to denature this more complex reality.

Whilst the revival of interest in indigenous healing technologies is salutary from numerous standpoints, it seems obvious that simply applying shamanic wisdom to urban Western society is in any case anything but a trivial affair. It is also a perverse objective: we cannot just bracket off ten thousand years of development of an alternative model of society, whatever the woes it has, in many ways, brought us. A more balanced appraisal of it is needed, and in any case we are called to work within it. So if we accept the need nevertheless to draw inspiration from this ancient paradigm, what could the role of the shaman look like in the very different and ever-shifting modern environment?

I think we need to look around us and take some fundamental facts as a starting point. Firstly, although many of us are indeed estranged from the natural world and its healing powers, and there is no doubt that we need collectively to recover this connection, we nevertheless have developed a vast range of healing modalities unknown to primitive societies and many of which do have value. These range from the interventions of clinical medicine through psychotherapies, group rituals and therapies, bodywork, music and dance just to name a few. These modalities are expressly designed for, and function in, the intellectual as well as material environment within which we live and, while we may also seek to change that environment, doing so is a project of another order entirely. Secondly, the tribe has gone global and features multiple allegiances. Moreover, post-modern tribality needs to be global because local communities no longer have the resources to function as a tribe. It also derives considerable benefit from this harnessing of technology: without today’s metatribal technologies there is little doubt that our tribal instincts would be frustrated or détourned even more than they are. So we need to function in our local communities but we cannot depend upon them for our spiritual life. Identity has become process-based and the work of each individual.

Within this global tissue of tribality, the shaman’s role must also be fundamentally transformed relative to the archaic prototype. The modern shaman must speak the language of modern tribes; she or he must doubtless be more specialized also, but nevertheless the shamanic role retains, it seems to me, a federating ethic and disposition which has much in common with the ancestral model: a passion for healing knowledge and an ethic of service based on matching resources in the environment to individual human needs, exercised based on compassion, with the greatest possible degree of humility and openness to the unknown and the astonishing. The shaman is a sort of spiritual guide, devoted to the immanence of lived experience and therefore beyond any ideological creed: however enthusiastic she or he may be about certain practices, this stands in contrast to the role of guru as popularly understood. The shaman is a person who may be a prophet but is above all a friend, who knows that your spiritual journey is yours alone, a sacred enterprise into which (s)he ventures, if at all, only with the deepest of awe and reverence. For the urban shaman in the 21st century, there is no recipe, but only respect of the deep mystery, which no human mind can grasp, of how all these human streams, whatever their provenance and course, eventually flow together and into the ocean.

The enterprise of building a shamanism for modern technological society involves major cultural reengineering and is not even called to be a consensus exercise. However, the nascent figure of the urban shaman is all around us, perhaps not always self-conscious and often unperceived, but ready to be sought out and available to those who are spiritually hungry and in need.

Dealing with Life’s Decisions – (2) Innate Resources

 

In the previous article in this two-part series, I explained why, in a broad class of cases, the information we receive is likely to be a very poor guide to the actions we should take. This is the much-delayed part two; delayed mainly because I realized I didn’t have a satisfactory answer to my own question of what a better guide might be. In this post, I’ll put together the elements I now have even if I am sure there is much more to be said.

So what basis may we then have for decision, if science does not afford one and positivism is to be mistrusted? And a linked question: on what basis, descriptively, do we actually make decisions?

To the best of my knowledge, though both have grappled with it, neither science nor philosophy has an answer to this age-old riddle.

Derrida was fond of the claim – somewhat abusively attributed by him to Kierkegaard – that “the moment of decision is madness“. Decisions, claimed Derrida, are characterized by circumstances in which “it is not possible to know what should be done, when knowledge is not conclusive and does not have the vocation to be so” [1]. In this case “the only possible decision passes by way of the folly of the undecidable and of the impossible” [2].

Kierkegaard in reality was talking about the act of faith, characterized by the Christian apostle Paul as “foolishness to the Greeks“, i.e. outside the frame of logical deduction to which Hellenistic philosophy by virtue of its very precepts could lead. [3] Paul’s account of the conversion experience rings phenomenologically true: it is a moment in which a feeling of knowledge renders reason superfluous, one which subjectively appears to take place on another level of consciousness. This describes not only religious experiences, but many key moments in the life of anyone. It therefore seems to be at least descriptively accurate. The decisions one takes in such moments are experienced as beyond doubt, as led by a higher force, as apodictic: and therefore as right even if, paradoxically, they ultimately turned out ‘wrong’. And yet conversion presumably is, in fact, in our normal sense always wrong as it is interpreted to include the act of adhesion to a number of precepts which cannot be completely correct – as Kierkegaard rightly noted.

With the benefit of hindsight I can see many ways in which I might have improved, in my own life, upon decisions which I took under the influence of internal circumstances which might be compared to a conversion experience. They include matters related to relationships and academic choices. And yet although I am capable of imagining or even holding some of those decisions to have been wrong, I am incapable of regretting those same decisions, however unwise a seemingly “neutral” observer might find them to have been. There is therefore, it seems, a state in which certain decisions can be taken which, even if they are arguably unwise or suboptimal, are at least insulated from regret.

If such a sense of certainty can pervade weighty decisions, therefore, it nevertheless seems to be well worth examining them critically. Psychologist Arthur Janov has argued that conversion experiences display a universal psychodynamic pattern of ego collapse, but this is of course entirely separate from the specific meaning attached to these experiences by those who undergo them[4]. It follows that, even if in that moment the subject may indeed have been in contact with “truth” – a possibility which cannot be assumed away – nevertheless it is essentially impossible to interpret this “truth” in a way which is verifiably and intersubjectively correct[5].

De facto, even under less dramatic circumstances a number of people would doubtless cite not only science and values as a guide to decision making, but also hunches/their inner voice and self-observation. This “inner voice” represents a type of knowledge the nature of which bears further consideration, comparable in some regards to Spinoza’s “third type of knowledge” which he called intuitive knowledge [6], as well as to Husserl’s phenomenological epistemology.

Innate somatic intelligence

At one level, it seems to me that we can found the notion of an inner voice biologically. I will take the example of food. It seems (at least to me subjectively) that our body has some sense of the nutrients which it requires at any given moment – an innate, pre-conscious nutritional intelligence – and that when we make decisions related to procuring nutrition, for example when shopping, preparing food or choosing from a menu at a restaurant, this innate intelligence plays a role, together, of course, with many other factors which may be less nutritionally relevant (emotional associations with particular foodstuffs, physiological addictions, what we have been told about food, what our choices communicate …). The reality of such a sense is well illustrated by the phenomenon of cravings during pregnancy  – these appear to be informative of physical needs (although this has not been proven) even if there is unarguably merit to interposing a reflective act between the drive and its gratification, as the linked article suggests. Such an innate intelligence presumably also informs the hunting or foraging impulses of other animals. We, as other primates at least, also have an innate ability to learn from our experience of certain foods which, perhaps largely subconsciously, feeds back into future decision making.

At the same time, it is hard to believe that if he were left to make all the decisions himself, my son would naturally gravitate towards a healthy diet (unless, perhaps, I were to release him into the wild). Food behavior is learnt socially in our species, presumably a significant evolutionary advantage; although on a simpler level, this is also true of other primates [7].

Unfortunately, explaining how this innate nutritional intelligence works, distinguishing it from other neurophysiological mechanisms, and determining the confidence we can have in it in making nutritional decisions is a serious philosophical and neurobiological problem which we are not even close to understanding. Some philosophers such as Thomas Nagel and Colin McGinn even argue that the mind-body problem, of which this is an instance, is inherently insoluble. Ramping this up to the next level to explain the role of intuition in complex decision making and the faith we should or should not put in it is therefore beyond the reach of any current theory, and quite possibly beyond even the reach of scientific enquiry per se. The most we can do is list instances where it goes wrong or is misleading and develop heuristics designed to avoid giving it excessive weight. This is perfectly valid and useful, and yet here is a core dimension of human existence about which we are struggling to say anything sensible.

Attitude

Faced with this situation, and with no way to resolve it, the philosophical tradition has focused on the question of the right attitude to adopt vis-à-vis our drives and urges. This tradition has tended, until recent times, to place in my view an unwarranted degree of trust in reason, the logos of Hellenistic philosophy, which presents itself as a metaphysical concept the boundaries of which (as with any socially constitutive concept) are inherently contested. The abandonment to reason urged on us by philosophers seems to lack practical value and to be value-laden, as I have previously argued. It inevitably leads to the tendentious classification of desires on a scale of value, with ‘base’ desires conspiring to lead us astray contrasted to lofty desires which lead to transcendence. This imposition of judgment can be labelled as at best arbitrary and necessarily leads to a bifurcated sense of self which is always in a state of internal conflict.

I therefore prefer a system of heuristics on top of intuition to a metaphysical belief that there is something called ‘reason’ which, if only I would listen to it, would direct my steps better than I might do myself; it sounds awfully like the superego. In my view, there is no need to sublimate desire or benefit from doing so; the contrary impression is merely the consequence of a parody of what constitutes human desire which incorporates unnecessary and ill-founded value judgments. However, I would still reason that the attitude to adopt towards desire is a question of both ethics and esthetics (in other words a question of consciousness), largely because these concepts capture a necessarily intersubjective dimension of desire which is missing in the atomistic Freudian account. This merits a discursus.

An important concept in this context is that of epoché or bracketing, popularized by phenomenologists in the tradition of Husserl who argued that the question of the real existence of objects perceived by the mind, which Kant argued was inaccessible to inquiry, could be set aside without losing the possibility of truth and meaning.

Epoché played an important role in the Greco-Roman Skeptical philosophy of Pyrrhonism. Without actually claiming that we do not know anything, Pyrrhonism argues that the preferred attitude to be adopted is the suspension of judgment or the withholding of assent, since only in this way can the seeker achieve the state of ataraxia or tranquillity. This does not imply that we have no rationale to choose one kind of action over another; however, one kind of life or one kind of action cannot be definitively said to be ‘correct’. Instead of a life of inaction, the Skeptic insists (presumably for no compelling reason other than social convenience) that one normally ought to live according to customs, laws, and traditions.

The nature of desire as movement-towards, and therefore presupposing representation of an object, is one which Franz Brentano argued it shares with other psychosomatic phenomena and which distinguishes such phenomena from phenomena in the natural world, a notion referred to as intentionality. Although it is questionable whether consciousness can be fully reduced to intentionality, for present purposes this problem can be set aside since the category of impulses we are concerned with for the purpose of assessing their reliability is certainly intentional. This intentionality may be social in nature, either because it is directed towards another person as such or because it involves the representation of an act or project which would confer more than purely private benefits or inflict more than purely private costs. Because of this fact, it is obvious that ethics and esthetics enter into the question; these are in fact social means – constitutive of intersubjective modes of action – which allow for group intention. To my mind, the possibility of intersubjective intention is fundamental to the nature and experience of desire.

It might appear that individual and group intention would be prone, even frequently, to conflict, and that there is a trade-off between them which poses itself in win-lose terms. Do we not, indeed, speak of antisocial desires and of social tyranny? While certainly a part of the felt experience of desire, however, there is more to it than this: the participation in shared desires also expands the individual’s range of possibilities and constitutes a source of gratification which is unavailable to her as a purely atomistic actor.

The question of the right attitude to adopt to desire depends at least in part on the confidence we can have in its subjective manifestation. Given the phenomenon of neurosis, that is, of displaced desire, it would seem that this may sometimes require considerable powers of introspection. This statement would appear also to hold good in respect of intersubjective intention. If food cravings are problematic enough to interpret, sexual desires, consumerist impulses and other displaced manifestations of the will to power are surely even more at risk of being tainted and subverted. Is this distinction phenomenologically available to the mind? That is, is there some qualitative characteristic of mental representations of desire which allows the subject to determine their authenticity, their freedom from involuntary subversion?

Probably all I can say at this point is that it seems to me that there is. Not that I am entirely comfortable with a binary disposition of desires between authentic and inauthentic, nor indeed that even authenticity is sufficient to ground action, but nevertheless, all this being said, certain desires just ‘feel’ different from others, just carry within them more of a sense of growth and expansion which gives them greater appeal and authority.

So I think that this distinction can be made phenomenologically, but also that abandon and detachment can coexist. Readers will recall my earlier criticism of Buddhism on the grounds that it seems to preach an unwillingness to actually live life with full commitment. Nevertheless, the attitude of detachment is objectively a part of Dasein and required for its metaphysical consistency. Any identification with a project of ones life, or with ones sensory experiences, is necessarily a confusion since all of these things are perceived or shaped by ‘something’ which cannot be reduced to them, of a form of thought which precedes mind and possesses a potentiality which vastly exceeds its lived experience. It is the adoption of the perspective of this ‘something’ (for which of course a variety of names have been proposed, but I prefer not to employ them for fear of being misunderstood) which constitutes detachment in the sense of apprehending the finitude of ones temporal existence as an artefact of historicity and its subdimensionality relative to the perspective sub specie aeternas. In other words, there is a dimension to which even philosophy can painlessly accede, because it is required strictly by logic, but which cannot be reduced to individual experience and nevertheless is immanently present to being. This seems to me to be what Heidegger is saying in Being and Time: that the dichotomy between contemplation and celebration can actually be overcome, must, in fact, in the logic of things be overcome.

The attitude to be brought to desire is therefore both the serenity of ataraxia and the ecstasy of abandon, the Apollonian and the Dionysian, stillness and dance, the esthetic and the ethical, the perspective of being and the perspective of time; both, simultaneously.

To view this as an inadequate basis for decision is the result of a rationalist bent which I believe it is easy to show reduces to the absurd. The argument is on the following lines, but I will just sketch it out. Taking decisions is just a part of living life. In order to assess the quality of these decisions, it is necessary to determine their effect on the individual’s life. This is their sole yardstick, but it is inaccessible to anything other than the subjective experience itself of being. There is, in essence, no counterfactual and no possibility of error which we could speak about in intersubjectively meaningful terms. Given this, the only pain which is real and actually borne as a result of decisions is the pain of regret, a pain conditioned on having in fact taken a decision other than the one which one ‘knew’ at the time, or should have known, was the ‘right’ one to take. It follows that a strategy which insulates against regret is the best strategy available; there is nothing better, and certainly nothing better about which we can meaningfully talk.

Now, I may seem to contradict myself since the whole premise of my blog is that there are behaviors we are likely to engage in because of our biological nature which we would be better off avoiding. But this formulation, although clear and easy to understand, contains a subtle error : it is not our biological nature which prompts suboptimal decisions, but the way in which the available options are framed by social institutions. The error comes from the institutions, and not from our nature. When I insist that we need a better understanding of our biological nature, what I mean is merely that we need to adopt a standpoint which allows us better to detach ourselves from social institutions, to see their contingency, to reform them so that the act of making right decisions will require less of a superhuman effort than it does now, perhaps to see or consider options we otherwise would not, and to understand why our spirit suffers in the world as it is, that is, to attain to wisdom. This is an agenda of growth and it is part of life; it is not a precondition of being able to live or to live meaningfully.

Attaining a conscious perspective on the part of the individual will often not make additional social options available; the same menu of choices will be there. This is why taking a decision which is at variance with that which one would take if fully reconciled to ones biological nature is not wrong. It is because one cannot be fully reconciled to ones biological nature in isolation from ones peers. The range of decisions available even to a Buddha is a small subset of what would be the decision space of an enlightened humanity. Because I cannot take decisions for all of us, my decisions will never have the quality of plenitude which, if I criticize the decision framework I have outlined for being insufficient, I would be implicitly berating them for not having. It is simply the wrong yardstick.

If we manage to live without regrets from this point forward, we will have attained to the highest trajectory available to us within what remains of our lifetime given where we stand now. It seems to me that this should be our highest aspiration.
*****

Notes

[1] “Quand il n’est pas possible de savoir ce qu’il faut faire, quand le savoir n’est pas déterminant et n’a pas à l’être”

[2] “La seule décision possible passe par la folie de l’indécidable et de l’impossible“.

[3] First letter of Paul to the Corinthians. On this paragraph see Bennington (2011), “A Moment of Madness: Derrida’s Kierkegaard”, in Oxford Literary Review, Volume 33, Number 1, July 2011, Pages 103-127.

[4] http://cigognenews.blogspot.be/2010/11/conversion-experience.html

[5] Janov speaks of the conversion experience as if it is necessary a solitary one. It seems to me likely that in so doing he significantly underestimates the importance of community – that is, of the tribal impulse – in religious conversion.

[6] Ethics, Part II, proposition 40

[7] Whiten, A. (2000), Primate Culture and Social Learning. Cognitive Science, 24: 477–508

The fetishization of control

 

Here are a number of apparently unrelated behavioral conundrums. In general we take them for granted, but this in itself is curious.

  • Why is it that there is so much uncertainty as to the basic physiology of female sexual arousal and response: can’t women just tell us?
  • Why does mainstream pornography cater almost exclusively for men and focus on the performance of sex acts where even the pretence that the female participants find them enjoyable is a matter of little, if any, cinematographic concern?
  • Why, notwithstanding copious evidence that our species is in no way predisposed to monogamy, does it seem that many women not only retain a social preference for it, but actually eroticize it to such a degree?
  • What’s up with jealousy? Is it sufficient to rationalize it as fear of abandonment in order to explain its intensity and prevalence?
  • Why, in general, do we find it so hard to break destructive patterns of behavior, and not only sexual ones?

The argument associating the sexual subjugation of women with the rise of settled agriculture and associated property rights is convincing as far as it goes. Nevertheless, it does not explain the tenaciousness of these phenomena, their psychodynamics, which cause many phenomenologists with insufficient insight into mental processes to suspect that there must be more to them than culturally revisionist accounts of human origins allow. If the eroticization of control is not innate notwithstanding its pervasiveness, how has it come about?

When a phenomenon which is not “intrinsically” erotic acquires a subjective erotic charge, we speak of fetish, kink or paraphilia. At its most general, a fetish is simply a member of the subclass of subjectively conditioned stimuli (CS) which give rise on the part of the subject to a pleasurable erotic response; further distinctions relating to the intensity of that response (“turn-on”, “preference”…) are merely a matter of degree. As such, fetish is merely the erotic subclass of a more general set of pleasurable conditioned stimuli, which in turn is a subset of all stimuli with a subjective conditioned response, i.e. also those stimuli which elicit fear or pain, which we refer to as phobias. For expositional clarity, I will speak here only of fetish, but it is useful to bear in mind that exactly parallel reasoning applies to all conditioned stimuli.

It follows that a fetish is a subjectively acquired mental association, resulting either from frequent exposure or from exposure under highly emotional conditions, between a particular stimulus and an erotic response. [1]

For the sake of argument, at least, let us assume that there are also stimuli which give rise to an unconditioned erotic response, so-called  “unconditioned stimuli”, US. It should be noted, however, that the categorization of a stimulus as conditioned or unconditioned is not at all self-evident; whilst there do exist truly unconditioned stimuli such as manual stimulation or electric shocks, which are handy for experiments, most stimuli are conditioned to some degree, and even unconditioned stimuli can be subject to a degree of overlaid conditioning which influences the response. Some associations may seem more objectively relevant than others and therefore be frequently and cross-culturally learnt, but they are still learnt behavior. For example, the fact that you salivate when you smell mum’s (or dad’s) baking at home may not seem like a learnt response, but in all likelihood to a substantial degree it is. Unconditioned responses are very much the exception: in more complex matters such as socialization and sexuality, almost everything of relevance is in fact learnt behavior.

This is just classical conditioning and it is a consequence of how our brain works with emotion; how, in fact, emotion and cognition are tied together. The subject who has acquired a conditioning will have a tendency to seek out the conditioned stimulus, believing it will lead to pleasure, even when it no longer does. That is to say, the initial temporal association between the CS and the US, even if it was completely arbitrary, has led to a cathexis of the CS, anticipating the pleasure of the unconditioned response (UR). For example, imagine that society was able to make and enforce a rule whereby all cakes were red, and the use of red in any other context was prohibited. If then the latter rule were abrogated, the sight of the color red alone would still stimulate salivation. This mechanism has been shown in numerous animal studies.

For the sake of argument let us assume that the scent or appearance of cakes stimulates salivation unconditionally (although as just stated this is debatable). The conditioned response (CR) and the unconditioned response are then identical. This, however, in general need not be the case, and even when it is the case the utility of the association is not the same: the response to the scent of baking confers nutritional advantages and additional pleasures which the response to the color red does not. In fact, one might wonder whether salivation in itself actually is pleasurable and not merely a prelude to some other pleasure, in its turn acting as stimulus input to another system which in order to achieve reward prompts certain action, namely the appropriation of the source of the salivatory response. As philosophers have noted, anticipatory pleasure does not require actual anticipation of pleasure. [2] The associations which we make between stimulus and response, while they may give rise to pleasure, creating it in a way ex nihilo, are not, therefore, innocuous – they may lead us astray, perhaps even in ways which we fail to grasp.

In this light, I conjecture that the eroticization by both sexes of control has the character of an endemic fetish. I choose the word “endemic” rather than simply “pervasive” because the fetishization of control is self-reinforcing, the result of a cultural disposition, namely patriarchy, which as we know is highly resistant to inflection even notwithstanding significant underlying changes in the conditions of its cultural production. At the same time, biology is not entirely lost and the body not simply a blank slate on which anything can be writ. In fact, any strategy of resistance to patriarchy has to start with the body because, even if its echoes may be faint, it is an incontrovertibly different and competing reality.

Now, it may seem to us that an association between, say, the color of the walls of a room and the pain of an electric shock is entirely arbitrary; but if that color has always been seen in that context, and never outside of it, to make the association is entirely natural. There is nothing in the logic of the situation which determines what is a relevant and what an irrelevant harbinger of pain or pleasure; we know from analyzing the world that the sound of the lion’s roar is indicative of the presence of an actual lion and that other sounds are not, but the brain works according to instinctive mechanisms which are merely based on temporal association (occurrence together) and specificity (failure to occur in isolation) within lived subjective experience, particularly in heightened states of consciousness. Causality does not need to be established or understood to become hard-wired in emotional response.

When we label certain sexual behaviors as fetishes and others as normal, we make a value judgment which is also not based on any sound understanding of causality. Examples of conditioned behavior which in the past were almost universal, or are so in other societies today, abound, and yet in our contemporary society these patterns of stimulus and response have in many cases been attenuated or entirely lost. Even in the lifetime of an individual, it is quite easy to reprogram many of these associations: for example public nudity is often associated with shame, and yet many subjects have over time completely overcome this. This shows, if any proof were necessary, that statistical near-universality is no proof at all of necessary biological priming.

A fetish, therefore, does not have to be uncommon in order to partake of the  characteristic psychodynamics of fetishism; and by the same token the frequency of occurrence of a certain behavior may be a necessary condition of its potentially being innate, but it is very far from a sufficient one.

It is probably clear to everyone reading this blog that, even if they continue to experience some degree of residual shame, nudity is in fact innocuous; that it is not associated with any necessary negative (or indeed positive) consequences even if in certain social contexts it may well be. Though obvious to my readers, though, this is anything but obvious to most inhabitants of the planet, who may feel the acutest pain even from showing a few square centimeters of flesh in an “inappropriate” context. And so, I invite these same readers to observe that the expressed longing towards monogamy in relationships on the part in particular of women, and also certain common attitudes of passivity and subordination in the sexual realm, may have nothing biological in them at all. No more than the type of male sexual behavior portrayed in pornography which probably seems to everyone (again, meaning all of my readers) in very many respects implausibly to characterize “natural” human behavior.

In a social context which canonically links sex to romantic interest, courtship and love, and which makes it very difficult to obtain in any other way, it is not surprising that these notions end up being associated and therefore eroticized. Whilst I am not arguing (or of the view) that this is the sole reason for the eroticization of control – which also has a biological priming in attraction and pair-bonding – it seems to me that it is certainly sufficient. And so, “normality” is just another form of kink; one which is produced, as it were, by the banal operation of pervasive social norms. We also see, in this light, that the frequent claim that many more men then women are fetishists is based on an excessively narrow as well as patriarchal understanding of fetish.

Again, this may all seem obvious but where I think this insight becomes truly significant is when it comes to the right attitude to adopt to these endemic fetishes. In the sex-positive community, we are encouraged to be tolerant of kinks and to seek to indulge them to the maximum extent possible, to find mutual accommodations rather than to force kinksters into searching for the most statistically improbable compatible partners. When the kink is something relatively trivial (to anyone else) and it does not get in the way of other forms of expression of the relationship important to the other partner(s), then this is not particularly problematic. However, for endemic fetishes and phobias like possession, exclusivity and jealousy this is much harder to do if one does not have the “matching” disposition (assuming there is one). In this case, whilst one may have compassion for it, one cannot and should not necessarily indulge it without reflection; if the relationship is not to run aground and the partners are incapable or unwilling to make the necessary psychological accommodation, then the fetishes in question will need to be adjusted.

This may or may not be easy – we simply don’t know because we usually don’t, in the space of a single lifetime, try. However, it seems to me in any case that there are plenty of examples of its being successfully effected, and that these tend to follow the classic schema of deconditioning, namely, on the one hand, exposure to the unconditioned stimulus in the absence of the conditioned one in order to establish, by virtue of the biological reality of the unconditioned response, the cognitive possibility of these stimuli not being associated, and, on the other, exposure to the object of phobia whilst observing the lack of actual threat, thereby progressively disarming the phobic response. In other words, what is needed is a conscious, intentional and progressive confrontation of one fears to reality, not in a theoretical way but in actual experience.

In my view, reprogramming sexual response is valuable in itself. A fetishist may lose all interest in “unconditioned” stimuli, but then he or she forfeits the pleasure of the “unconditioned” response. Pornography for example can take sometimes entirely displace the desire for actual sex, but it obviously does not afford the same rewards. There seems to be a pleasure premium from aligning ourselves more closely with our biology. Moreover, the fetishization of control represents an attachment to an impossible ideal, a relationship state which at best may be simulated for a few years but is impossible to maintain or, at the very least, subject to severe biological stress. Relatively quickly, it is to be anticipated that an indispensable condition of arousal will wither away, and the subject is then left with a stunted erotic profile (and all of its physiological correlates).

There may be other advantages of deconditioning too. It is astonishing that we know so little of innate patterns of female desire, even on the physiological level. It would seem likely that we are looking in the wrong place. As feminist cultural theorist Luce Irigaray argues, the fetishization of control is testimony to the almost total absence of the feminine in social organization, an absence which has colossal collateral costs. Female sexual models, indeed even the actual physiology of female arousal, are calqued on patriarchal conceptions of male sexuality (the only kind, obviously, with which patriarchy is actually concerned) and taught to girls through socialization. Biology is soon only a faint echo, so faint and so deeply buried that we cannot recover enough of it to say anything with confidence about it; we are only guessing or basing ourselves on intuition. Irigaray says that, culturally, there is only one sex, the male: and the female is just the non-male. It is a terra incognita, peopled by mythical creatures straight out of our subconscious. The theory of endemic fetish which I have outlined offers an explanation as to how and why this eminently curious state of affairs has arisen.

The take-away is: “normal” is just a consecrated type of kink. But it may well be in our best interests to deconsecrate it; it may even be imperative to our survival as a species.

Notes

[1] “All the forms of sexual perversion…have one thing in common: their roots reach down into the matrix of natural and normal sex life; there they are somehow closely connected with the feelings and expressions of our physiological eroti[ci]sm. They are … hyperbolic intensifications, distortions, monstrous fruits of certain partial and secondary expressions of this eroti[ci]sm which is considered ‘normal’ or at least within the limits of healthy sex feeling“, Albert Eulenburg (1914), Ueber sexuelle Perversionen, Zeitschrift fuer Sexualwissenschaft, Vol. I, No. 8., translated in Stekel, W. (1940), Sexual aberrations: The phenomena of fetishism in relation to sex, New York: Liveright, p. 4.

[2] Iain Morrison (2008), Kant and the Role of Pleasure in Moral Action, Ohio University Press, ch. 2

The cult(ivation) of self

 

The following video was recently shared by Glen Brauer of Philosophy Dinners. I think it is a good synthesis of mindfulness, philosophical enquiry and the state of knowledge in the neuroscience of emotions, and so it is a good starting point for an exploration of the limits of some pervasive concepts in the world of what is often called self-development.

Now obviously I have nothing against self-development per se, or I wouldn’t be writing this blog. And I think Chade-Meng Tan sets the idea of self-awareness out, in the video, in a contemporary manner which already avoids some of the traps, even if he is still constrained to some extent by language. Thus it is obvious that what he means by “mindfulness” is not an awareness only of the mind or of cerebral processes, but also, to the extent possible, of somatic processes and in particular of emotion. This idea (“bodyfulness”) in itself already takes us beyond the mind/body split which we inherit from Hellenistic philosophy, and I think it is very valuable. He also indicates that the result of self-awareness should be an increased flexibility in ones mental range of action: that the ego becomes a tool and not a driving force. So far I agree. However, before zeroing in on what seem to me still to be some limitations in this paradigm, a brief excursus is required.

The Socratic exhortation to self-knowledge is historically inseparable from an exhortation to self-discipline, as Plato’s development of it, and its political economy, make clear. Socrates in no way was advocating a truly open-ended spirit of self-enquiry. Plato and Aristotle assume all number of things about the universe, none of which is founded in sensory data. In my opinion, there is nothing in the Western philosophical tradition before modern times which encourages or even allows for a phenomenologically based calling into question of social institutions. The dictates of logos, imagined to be self-evident, apparently led everyone to conclusions which are now mostly incompatible with major swathes of scientific knowledge about the human condition. The exhortation to follow the promptings of conscience was in reality an exhortation to conform, and one which led to no revolutionary insights at all, and no degree of authentic being.

There have been, of course, dissenting voices to the Socratic tradition, even if they have been marginalized by history: the Epicureans, the Cynics, Boethius…. But each of these has (of understandable necessity) sought a consolation compatible with the established order, even as they rejected it. The French Revolution was doubtless the first time that philosophy played any sort of a role in a mass political uprising, and it was hardly in the driving seat.

I know next to nothing about the history of Zen Buddhism, but the question arises of whether the particular form of the movement and its characteristic doctrines do not represent a similar accommodation. To ask this question, I would argue, is to answer it. Therefore, we should be on our guard for likely omissions in the doctrine which would have rendered it marginalized or existentially endangered, and thus have not survived to this day or are, like liberation theology, only in the process of formulation.

Primitive societies would struggle to understand our concept of self-awareness. To them it would be utterly alien to imagine that not only could an “I” exist separate from the tribe but that it could be so much an object of attention and cultivation that the tribe disappears almost entirely from view. At times it might seem like the whole spiritual tradition of “civilized” societies is a roundabout, almost absurd means to rediscover and enter into an unio mystica which to a hunter-gatherer is so immanent as to be self-evident. The hunter-gatherer, whose senses are already honed to perfection to his/her environment and peers, has no need of a doctrine of self. Perhaps we only privilege it because we have lost all else?

This view is more radical than I am able to be right now. However, it affords a neat perspective against which to evaluate some of the claims of even a progressive theology of mindfulness, and especially its equation with self-awareness. Tan’s presentation seems to draw on models of the emotions within neuroscience which embody an implicit limitation in the scope of knowledge to the self, at least de facto. This seems to pit self-awareness against other-awareness in a manner which betrays significant cultural bias and I am not sure survives a phenomenological audit. Tan seeks in this way to obtain “mastery” over experience. But who is it, in this case, that masters, and in the name of what? What scope does this leave for rapture and for the numinous? To give just one example, but which is telling, is one seeking to “master” the sexual act? Is this the mode of experience of it which is most authentic and most felicitous? Intuitively it seems not. And when we are “honest” about our limitations, are we as aware as we should be that what we really lack is a not a self-audit, but a critical perspective on society?

I think Tan is at least guilty (judging only on the basis of this presentation) of allowing his audience to persist in cultural biases which he might have helped them to overcome. If that cultural bias predisposes to individually and collectively unhappy outcomes, which I believe in the aggregate it does, his disciples can listen to their bodies and emotions all they like, they will still be zombies walking a path to global ruin.

It may be objected, of course, that we have nothing else than sense-data, and hence that Tan’s position is a tautology. I do not dispute this; but everything is in how matters are framed. I could quote Bourdieu at this juncture, but I will content myself with Rumi, whose precocious prefiguration of social constructivism is breathtaking. “Speak a new language, so that the world will be a new world.“

The emergence of the spiritual

This merits a much longer piece, but I want to get the idea out there.

In Les Regles de l’Art, Pierre Bourdieu describes the emergence in the 19th century of a concept of autonomy in the sphere of cultural production, whereby progressively artists shook off the constraints of the need to conform to sanctioned norms and/or to  communicate a “message”, in favor of “art for art’s sake”. To be an artist was to be someone whose duty of truth to him- or herself took absolute precedence over any other consideration.

This, I see, merely prefigured a wider emancipation of humanity which is still only at its early stages today, and not yet widely recognized as such.

The concern to live a good life has for a long time been the preserve of philosophers and theologians, figures who occupied a consecrated position within the hierarchy of social power. Even the artist’s freedom to create has not always meant a freedom in personal life, an ars vivendi (neither has the philosopher’s souci de soi).

As the social institutions of religion have collapsed in Western society, new religious movements have stepped in to occupy the space vacated. These movements have sometimes been of a mass nature, but also sometimes are little more than a clan. The easy availability of information in the internet age has also had a profound effect on these dynamics, rendering them both more ephemeral and more centripetal. But almost all of these new movements, to this day, seek to do exactly what religion has always sought to do, that is to respond to the human need for community by building social systems in which degree of initiation determines place in the hierarchy and ideas are turned into doctrines and dogmas, falsely dehistoricized to become foundational myths. However, in the modern world it is very hard to monopolize habitus and many forces militate against ever recreating the religious empires of the past.

The discipline of inquiry taught us by the philosophers potentially contains a grain of truth, but since Plato until modern times it is certainly thought of wrongly: as a search for what is “out there”, can be uncovered by reason and accordingly should guide our behavior. As I have argued before, this project in reality (the tyranny of reason) seeks only to control us in the service of a possibly (once) imperative social goal, but not one we have freely chosen or even, frequently, questioned.

Although most of us recognize that there is no “truth” in art, we are still highly conditioned to believe that there is truth in life; a meaning which is external, which some have found and which we can emulate by following in their footsteps.

In my opinion, our relationship to our spiritual forbears should be no different to the relationship of the artist to hers. Spiritual creation is a work of art, which may uncover something of the structure of the universe but which simultaneously embodies what Zola called “the particular language of a soul”, specific to time and place. It is a universality without universalism, and utterly contingent on this impossible paradox.

Is there evidence that this spiritual field, in Bourdieu’s sense, is emancipating itself from religion and coming into an autonomous state of being?

I have of course not done any historical study and it is very much my impression that almost no-one yet understands or espouses this understanding clearly, although there are clearly echoes of it already in systems both ancient and modern. Driven by economic factors, ego, habit or expectations, most spiritual teachers try to keep their disciples on the hook, and many aspire to found their own dynasties.

I say, spiritual truth can only be communicated as art, and the spiritual teacher must have the attitude of an artist and should be thought of in this way; indeed, the attitude of an artist is incumbent upon all of us, for we are all artists of our own life. There is no possible way that the student can emulate the teacher; the student can only express her own essence. As (even) Jesus said, unless the seed falls into the earth and dies, it cannot bring forth fruit.

It is very hard for those of us who seek truth to understand that it does not matter where we look for it; to understand that, in fact, “truth” is not a very good word. We all tend to think that if one person has truth, another does not; that is the nature of positivistic truth and we are accustomed to thinking it is also true of spiritual truth. But it is not. Spiritual truth, like artistic “truth”, is inborn, in our cells and in our consciousness; no-one can transmit it to us, all anyone can ever do is wake us up to it within ourselves, and to do this they are never more than instrumental. The environment around us most propitious to our spiritual awakening is not a problem we need to solve, it is much more an emanation of what is already inside.

We need to cease the search and become artists of our own lives, surrounding ourselves with and attracting other artists, certainly, but purely for the joy of sharing in their beauty.

Dealing with Life’s Decisions – (1) Blinded by Science

This piece is the first in two on the question of how to make decisions in life.

Some decisions we simply take too hastily, using cognitive shortcuts pre-programmed in our brains, and we would benefit from slowing down, thinking them through, applying a structured decision framework to them, and so on. A good example of this class of decision problem is investment. Provided you can frame the problem narrowly enough – i.e. that logically prior issues have been solved – investment decisions will be improved by thinking them through, because they will be freed from several cognitive errors which typically characterize them. This type of problem is simple and much has been written on it, so I will put it aside.

I also want to put temporarily aside the “big decisions” of life – whether and whom to marry, whether to have children and how many, and so on. These decisions will have consequences which, obviously, you cannot compute when taking them. I will reincorporate this type of decision in the second piece in this series.

In this article I want to look at decisions which are more everyday, which obviously may also have uncomputable effects (you sign up for the art class, at which you meet someone who changes your life) but which are usually designed to have more prosaic ones. For example: which classes to take at school; which sports to practice; dietary regime and so on. These are decisions in relation to which a certain amount of “evidence” exists, but where this evidence is not conclusive. Those are most decisions in life, and there is a reason why we have evolved cognitive short cuts to deal with them. It is not my intention to argue that there is nothing to be gained from applying more structured thinking to this type of decision (or other decision heuristics which go beyond “gut feeling”). What I do wish to do is to show that, almost inevitably, we think about this sort of decision in the wrong way. In short, we are so conditioned to acknowledge the supremacy of “rational” reasoning over our instincts that in fact we allow ourselves to be swayed by arguments which have the appearance of rationality but suffer from shortcomings which are so pervasive and fundamental that we would almost always do better to ignore these arguments altogether.

I am going to take an entirely typical example, of the kind we encounter many times on a daily basis, at least if we try to keep ourselves abreast of the news. Let us say we read a journalistic article, purported itself to be based on a scientific article, reporting on certain alleged health benefits of yoga. Those benefits speak to some issues or concerns we have with our own health, and so the idea has been put in our minds of giving yoga a go. Should we?

Please note that this example is just that. The media disseminates claims like this all the time. For example, we might read that playing a musical instrument is associated with higher intelligence. Or that bilingualism is negatively correlated with Alzheimer’s. Or that a diet rich in proteins results in more durable weight loss. And so on, and so on (I made all those examples up just to give the flavour of the type of truth claims we are dealing with and the problem which they pose).

Now, let us suppose that the underlying scientific study is at least correctly carried out and that the journalist has not entirely misrepresented its conclusions. Those are already two hefty assumptions which may or may not apply, but the context may give us an indication as to the confidence we can have that they indeed hold (for example, this is, ceteris paribus, more likely to be true of an article on the BBC than in the Daily Mail). What errors may we still make if, on this basis, we allow the article to modify our behavior?

A whole host.

Changing behavior has costs. There are the obvious direct costs, which may be greater or less depending on the case: in the yoga example they are likely to be fairly limited (yoga subscription, transit to the class, kit….). But then, there are also the sizeable opportunity costs. Yes, this may be a good use of my time, but is it the best use? Do I need to pre-commit resources up front?

This question cannot be answered unless you know what your priorities are: those outcomes which will make the biggest difference in your life. Ideally, that would be a pre-existing exercise. But even if you know you need to address a particular issue – say high blood pressure – and the evidence presented in the article actually shows some efficacy for the course of action in question (yoga), you can still go very wrong. By plumping for yoga, you go with the availability heuristic, which privileges the course of action you just heard of over what you might need to do more work to identify. By taking action, you lessen cognitive dissonance, and therefore the nagging feeling inside which might have prompted you to do more serious research or thinking customized to your own situation. Yoga will work on some cellular pathways, but those are certainly not the only factors involved in giving rise to your condition. There may be much more important ones, but ones which you are much more resistant to addressing – say your work, your relationships or where you live.

Even if the information is accurate, it has neither been produced, nor has it reached you, by chance. Someone decided to test a particular yoga program (which may have nothing to do with what is on offer in your locality). They did so because they have a predisposition to finding a favourable effect from yoga. But the same favourable effect might be produced in any of a number of other, unresearched ways – a problem which is particularly acute if the mechanism of action is not elucidated or hypothesized subject to a great degree of speculation. So there is a selection bias. This cannot be ruled out on the part of the media either, and if you got the article second hand, say through Facebook, your friend has also selected it in preference to others – with what reason?

In addition, the study may very well be partly or entirely attributable to the placebo effect (which is a great effect, but could be produced in other ways), with remaining variation explained by factors which yoga shares with other forms of exercise and/or other spiritual practices. The participants in the study may have self-selected, and therefore share attributes which differ from those of the population in general, and perhaps also from you. For example, imagine that those who do yoga are twice as likely to be vegetarian. Correlation is not causation: it could be their diet that explains all or part of the variation observed. You, in any case, are not Ms or Mr Average – you are older or younger, fitter or less fit. Yoga may be a fit for your other activities, or it may duplicate the benefit of them.

Now, I am certainly not saying you shouldn’t do yoga, nor that it doesn’t have benefits. I am saying that it’s almost worthless to read the article, and it may be worse than worthless to produce or distribute it. This article has in all likelihood not given you any new information at all. All it has done is make an incremental contribution to the “brand” of yoga as perceived by you. This, by itself, is not the core of the problem, however. The core is the idea you have that science should be your main tool to solve the problem you started out with. Although you have this idea, you have not in fact been scientific at all. You could have been more scientific – for example, read a book that discusses a series of approaches to your problem. That would probably have been a good idea (the article you read was not some kind of breaking news, so no need to be afraid that the book would be out of date). But even if you had done this, the problem would still have been orders of magnitude too complex for you to decide it on the basis of science alone. You not only will decide it on the basis of factors which you cannot really rationalize. But this is the only way to decide it. All the research you can possibly do is merely preparation, hopefully valuable preparation to make a better decision (there is, of course, a trade-off with the time you invested), but it will never provide an algorithm which decides on your behalf. Some people will choose to view this irreducible subjectivity as a lamentable concession to human nature. But, as I will explore in part two, it seems to me that all of the alchemy which turns research into outcomes is there, in the giddying sovereignty of the moment of decision.

Science, just like the mind, is a tool; something else – you – must be in the driving seat. Positivism is unscientific. Science makes a contribution, and yet if you have the belief that your decisions should be guided by science, it is very likely that, in combination with cognitive and selective biases, you in fact are led into decisions which are worse than those you would have made had you not had this belief at all.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act…
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response…

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

Sex-positive feminism

“Orgasm is the body’s natural call to feminist politics” – Naomi Wolf (*).

Many feminists take a dim view of the use made of images of women in advertising and in pornography. They argue that such images almost invariably involve an objectification of women, a reduction of them to little more than a collection of sexual attributes, devoid of personhood and without agency, confined in a role dictated to them by patriarchal society and arrayed for consumption by the male sexual appetite.

This argument is partly tautological (in the sense that images are necessarily objects), and often modified in practice by free speech considerations as well as the argument by some that consensual fantasy, even if it depicts scenarios which draw on patriarchy for their erotic value, does not necessarily reinforce patriarchal values themselves (even if it leaves them unchallenged) and should be embraced as a safer outlet for fantasies which it would be more prejudicial to pursue in the real world. Nevertheless, feminist objections to female iconography betray an underlying preference on the part of many women, unsure as to what a “depatriarchalized” female sexuality actually would look like, to choose to behave in such a way as to avoid being branded a slut, which is perceived as, and indeed is, effectively a form of social ostracization. This choice is understandable, but it is not neutral or necessarily pro-feminist.

The desire to be taken seriously has historically often required women in different walks of life to forego visual strategies of seduction and those women who pursue a different track – including so-called “sex-positive feminists” – are often suspect outsiders in the feminist community. At best, they may be viewed as serving up a form of feminism designed to appeal to men’s nature or patriarchally conditioned preferences, and thereby denatured ipso facto.

There is no denying that employing those visual elements most often associated with the objectification of women, whether as part of a feminist counteroffensive, or simply because that is what one wants to do, is a tactic fraught with danger and not the best choice for everyone. But in choosing their strategies of resistance, women need to be lucidly conscious of the fact that they are caught in the type of double-bind which typically characterizes symbolic oppression. Either they claim positions in society entirely analogous to those occupied by men, thereby ratifying the patriarchal order, or they align themselves with a socially despised underclass, attracting opprobrium from men and women alike: that is, from all members of that multitude, regardless of their gender, who continue to think, whether or not despite themselves, in patriarchal categories.

For patriarchy, sex is a male drive, and some women are assigned the role of gratifying that drive. This assignment is not willy-nilly of course; it follows a very structured course which allows the drive to be adequately gratified while at the same time ensuring the reproduction of a social system in which all males have a sufficient stake in the status quo to defend it by political and military means. Patriarchy thus has always used the lever of access to women’s bodies in order to achieve its prime historical purpose, which is to control men (although the control of women per se has also become important over the last century and a half as women have gained in societal power). The conditions of expression of sexuality by men are a major theme of patriarchy, but male sexuality itself is not problematized; women’s sexuality on the other hand is assumed either not to exist or, in complete contrast, to be insatiable and dangerous.

Patriarchy, in other words, is neutral towards male sexual expression; but it is not neutral towards love. For the (male) guests at Plato’s Symposium, the idea that one could love a woman with comparable passion to how one might love a man was simply unthinkable. Loving a woman was socially subversive in classical Greece, the stuff perhaps of Gods and heroes in times past but not of free, land owning men today. For them, free women were objects of symbolic trade (and slave women of monetized trade); sentiment could not be allowed to disrupt that economy.

For us moderns, many of whom probably believe we have experienced something which we feel to be biologically innate and which we call “falling in love” (but which may be merely limerence), Plato’s conception of eros seems a surprising drive diversion. And evolutionary considerations would suggest it is. Nevertheless, the strangeness of the Greek romantic imagination should not allow us naively to imagine that our own conception is purely a biological restoration. On the contrary, the conditions under which we are allowed to fall in love are tightly controlled by society. Absent these conditions, it is not simply that we are condemned to fail in our amorous endeavors; in fact we are little more likely than the ancients to notice or acknowledge our feelings at all. For this reason, we have little idea what the experience we call “falling in love” would have looked or felt like in the ancestral environment, even if I would not exclude that a phenomenological or anthropological enquiry might tell us something (of which I might be ignorant).

So, the kind of feminism I would like to see might better be termed “love-positive” than “sex-positive”; that women adopt a positive attitude towards the biological capacity for physical pleasure with which they are born seems like something that should be able to be taken for granted. It would be good if feminism were to insist on our capacity as a species to love and nurture, including, but not limited to, heart-based, non-exclusive sexuality. Nevertheless, I fear that a “love-positive feminism” would quickly be assimilated to a desexualized one because of the sublimination of sexuality we are all conditioned to operate.

The conversion of the female body into an object of consumption is indeed an artefact of patriarchy. Nevertheless, the role of female iconography in contemporary society also differs vastly from that in Antiquity. Although clothing has a longer history, techniques of mass visual reproduction are very recent. Even the depiction of the female nude in painting only really took off with the Renaissance, and it was a radical break with earlier Byzantine norms (even if, it seems, rapidly embraced by the Papacy…).

Of course, this Renaissance artistic movement was no resurrection of Hellenistic esthetics, but a creation which drew on Greek and Roman archetypes for its own purposes. Representation of men was far more common than that of women in Hellenistic art, and female representations are essentially unknown in the classical period; in Renaissance art this proportion was completely reversed, with the female body, and erotic scenes featuring it, clear themes of predilection. The purpose of this can scarcely have been anything other than male titillation, but the bringing of the female form out of the whorehouse and into courtly palaces represents a concession to its erotic power which must have been profoundly disturbing to indentured wives, daughters and maidservants, and probably to many men within courtly families also. This development, I believe, can hardly be seen as a further reinforcement of patriarchy, hypothetically confident enough to bring into the light those practices which previously had been reserved for the shadows; rather, these inanimate forms, fantasy women created by men for men, represent to my mind the first stages of the crumbling of patriarchy under the weight of its biological, and increasingly social, contradictions: a process which continues to this day and is, of course, still far from complete.

Over the course of history, patriarchy has effected a constitutive bifurcation of women into two antagonistic groups, imposing monoandry on, and denying sexual agency to, the one (essentially those women engendered within patriarchal clans), whilst making the second (slaves and outcasts) available for the use of the males of the society as a whole. Almost all of the portrayal of women in art from the Renaissance onwards has been of courtesans and concubines, or of figures adopting their attributes. The allegedly higher status, but desexualised, class of women qualifying as wives is absent from the collective imagination. This bifurcation, which doubtless stretches back into remote antiquity, gave rise to what Freud called the Madonna-Whore complex. This is certainly a hypocritical double standard. But it is also inherent to the intersection of male sexual drives and patriarchy.

What is new with the Renaissance is that the courtesan is celebrated in art rather than despised. It is important, indeed, to note that these two archetypes are not equal alternatives. The Madonna archetype enjoys superior (if still limited) social status and is unmarked; the whore archetype is stigmatized, including by the madonna herself, and is marked. The subordination by patriarchy of the whore to the madonna has fundamental consequences for thinking through strategies of symbolic resistance.

The patriarchally assigned bifurcation of the female, in fact, has been subject to constant erosion over the last ten centuries of Western history as properties of the courtesan have been transferred to the sought object of legitimate romantic passion, bringing love into the matchmaking paradigm and subverting more strictly patriarchal norms of arranged marriage. Courtly love was the first manifestation of this slow cultural earthquake, in which for the first time romantic passion was admitted into the public arena, provided that it did not interfere with matrimonial arrangements and was sublimated. The right of women – or men – to marry for love, however, took a long time to be established, at least in courtly and developing bourgeois circles, and is not, indeed, even fully acquired in Europe today (never mind, of course, the rest of the world). Its acceptance has been at the price of the assimilation of marriage-for-love to marriage-by-arrangement, with which, however, it shares little in common (and compared to which it is notoriously less stable).

The whorehouse was an accepted and inevitable institution within the social economy of arranged marriage. The position of the whore-as-archetype, became, however, problematic for proponents of marriage for love. By this I mean (though here I may be speculating) that well-born women, having experienced sexual passion in the context of romantic love, came to view it as their birthright, but were nevertheless still constrained by the patriarchal order of marriage – as Flaubert’s Emma Bovary found to her cost. To this we should add, as Michel Foucault has pointed out in La Volonté de Savoir, the increasing importance placed upon sexual exclusivity within marriage within the developing bourgeois ambitions of the 18th and 19th centuries, essentially in order to safeguard the blood line and the accumulation of family wealth.

These social developments, which here I can only evoke briefly, resulted in what has become, today, almost a fusion, and frequently an unbearable one, of the expectations associated with the Madonna and Whore archetypes. Women are asked, in the first instance by women’s media themselves, to be both – even though the combination is well-nigh impossible and in any case unlikely to procure any durable advantage. This continuing demand for both archetypes is certainly an indication of the malleability of patriarchy to changed social circumstances to which Bourdieu refers in Masculine Domination. Nevertheless, it is not necessarily indicative of its perennity; it seems to me that patriarchy is really underpinned by militarism and plutocracy and it is shifts in these social variables which will undermine (or are needed to undermine) its ongoing vitality. What feminism needs to do is to unleash the inherent contradictions in patriarchy which have been visible throughout history and harness other forces in our psyche.

By rejecting sexual empowerment, women reject only one side of the bifurcated patriarchal feminine in favor of the only other of the binary choice of options socially prepared for them. It is very difficult to bring into existence alternative archetypal paradigms, and almost impossible as long as the existing paradigms retain their force and serve their purpose. Choice ratifies and strengthens the bifurcation itself, whilst having no effect on the net exploitation of women, as the patriarchal economic order is left untouched by it, and this order can always create the supply of “whores” which it desires. The only subversive choice – the one made, in his way, by Michel Foucault – is not to choose. But this choice is only subjectively available: not choosing will result in social assignation to women of the “whore” label anyway – because sexual shame structures the entire patriarchal system. In the same way as Foucault was socially assigned to the marked category of gay, though he never made that identification.

It is clearly unfair – in fact it is an oppressive manoeuver – simply to dismiss women as their own worst enemies. Society cannot indoctrinate women with patriarchal views and then complain that they exhibit patriarchal attitudes. By far the most likely reason women engage in slut-shaming is to convince patriarchal males of their own chastity and to reinforce the Madonna-norm to which they have chosen to submit since, having made that choice, they are invested in it. We all know, and feminists better than anyone, that women are in part the vehicles of their own oppression, but that is because the odds are stacked against them by the system within which they are constrained to operate.

There is no Archimedean point outside of the structures of symbolic domination which can be used to bring the whole thing crashing down – we are condemned to work within it and this is what makes the whole enterprise so painstaking slow. Nevertheless, so-called sex-positive feminism, while there is plenty to debate and criticize within it, is not a watered down version of the real thing, designed to avoid the latter’s full social consequences: it is in fact the most subversive form of feminism yet devised precisely because it appeals to men on an instinctual level which bypasses, however temporarily, some part of their patriarchal conditioning. It is a power which merely needs to be self-aware.

“Sex-positive feminists” and “slutwalkers” may be vilified for allowing themselves to be objectified but in fact they do not “allow” this at all, they are merely subject to it because of attitudes embedded in patriarchy – attitudes which need to be challenged and changed. As long as patriarchy prevails, women are likely to be oppressed by one or other of the symbolic categories of oppression, madonna or whore, which constitute the two poles, both socially constructed, of the patriarchal bifurcation of the female. There is no choice which renders neither calumny applicable. The core patriarchal oppression, however, is embodied in the figure of the madonna, not in that of the whore. The whore archetype is a secondary manifestation, structurally dependent for its existence and its power on the primary strategy of denying female agency – of denying, in fact, female humanity. Given this, slut-shaming is a counterproductive response by women, and one which is moreover inoperant since the supply of whores and that of madonnas will always attain a patriarchal equilibrium as long as madonnas themselves continue to exist. If an individual is not sexually empowered, the whole system remains in place; but if all women chose the whore over the madonna, neither would be any more.

Notes

(*) “Feminist Fatale: a reply to Camille Paglia”, The New Republic, March 16, 1992

Post-patriarchalism

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Polyamorous paradise – or patriarchal inferno?

A couple of days ago, I discussed the problem of sexual labels. In this post, I want to zero in on my own search for an adequate label to represent my approach to relationships (to be distinguished of course from my sexuality) and to suggest that this can only adequately be resolved within the framework of a much wider concept. (The title of the post is a bit of a spoiler: sorry for that!).

At first sight, there are a few alternatives to choose from. Subjectively, however, all of them, to my mind, are not only insufficient but positively distortive. Let me explain in a few words why.

Let’s start by throwing the terms out there. There are three expressions which I have on occasion used, and therefore which presumably displease me less on some level than the others: these are “polyamory“, “open relationship” and “consensual non-monogamy” (CNM). Then there are also terms which I do not use, but are somehow related and therefore potential candidates for my verbal affections: “free love“, “relationship anarchy” (RA) and “swinging“.

The main problem with polyamory, CNM and swinging is that these notions, because they are rather broad and mainly defined by what they are not (i.e. monogamy), do not necessarily imply a commitment to full female agency. Many people pursue polyamory, CNM and swinging because they want to satisfy certain sexual or emotional desires, without necessarily critically reflecting on those desires and without an explicit ethic of either agency or commitment. This is why I have written my own cultural critique of polyamory. The well-known “how-to” book The Ethical Slut is a good example of the problem: it starts from patriarchal norms and imagines itself subversive of them (such as by using the word “slut”) but in fact betrays a considerable concern to reassure as to the compliance of the proposed behavior with unacknowledged patriarchal norms of female behavior (presumably there are also “unethical sluts”). To this I immensely prefer those sex-positive feminists who, whether and to what extent they actually are sex-positive or not, at least claim the right to do what they want sexually and not to have to justify it.

The result is that each of these terms (due of course to the societal base-rate of patriarchal attitudes) is used in practice by considerable numbers of people with values not only different from, but fundamentally opposed to my own: especially men who believe it is OK to impose a restriction on their female partner’s expression of her sexuality towards other men, and  women who believe it is OK to acquiesce in such a restriction or are not even aware that they are doing so (which is slightly less blameworthy but still unfortunate).

“Free love” sounds attractive, even self-evident, even if a bit dated. I am guessing though that cultural historians would mostly concur that, whatever the probably considerable cultural impact of the free love movement, freedom of love was not one of its achievements. The free love movement had, and, to the extent it still exists, still has, two major flaws. One, again, is its uncritical attitude vis-à-vis patriarchal norms, which continue to enslave both women and men notwithstanding their desire to constitute themselves as free subjects. The second problem, which is closely related, I believe, to the first, is contained in the notion of “love”. In practice, free love had an ideology of love but focused on abolishing societal values and laws stigmatizing sex (as a result, its ideologues often place undue importance on the legalization of sex work, a position which can be discussed on its own merits, but has nothing whatsoever to do with love).

The societal values opposed by proponents of free love, which I am certainly not defending as such, nevertheless proscribed certain sexual behaviors in an effort to find a socially negotiated equilibrium between women and men. This equilibrium, being negotiated under conditions of patriarchy, obviously was always heavily marked by relations of power. But, nevertheless, simply dropping these norms never meant abolishing the symbolic power of patriarchy, and may even have reinforced it. This is because, while some norms restricting women’s freedoms are indeed patriarchal in nature, other norms restricted men’s freedoms, and historically represent achievements of the feminist movement, however perverse some of those achievements may appear when viewed from the partial angle which the free love movement proposes.

This is most clearly illustrated by the development of norms restricting male polygyny. It is likely, as Foucault implies in L’Usage des Plaisirs, that these norms were initially developed in the interests of militaristic agendas, and so are loosely “patriarchal”, though a more sympathetic historian would probably point to their value in societies subject to external existential threats. If the development of the norms, however, can be viewed as patriarchal until at least recent times, the development of their actual enforcement and subtle ways in which they have changed has been largely driven by feminist demands for status, security and the well-being of offspring. Moreover, patriarchal norms limiting female self-expression are written deep in the structure of society, into women’s very bodies themselves; espousing their abolition, even entirely sincerely, does not bring about their abolition in fact. It is thus a low-cost strategy for a man to espouse “free love”. These deep norms anyway remain in place, while the surface norms which limit a man’s freedom are more easily abandoned. I believe deeply in the ideal of free love, but a social critique of the notion has to take seriously the objection that it is highly asymmetric and does little if anything to empower women sexually in reality.

The same objection can be made to all the other terms. Certainly, under any of these headings, there are people, even many people, who have an ethical commitment to freedom for both women and men. But there are also people, perhaps also many people, and sadly also of both genders, who do not.

This, to my mind fundamental, issue gets obfuscated, frequently violently, because all of these terms are thought of as philosophies of freedom in relationships, and under conditions of patriarchy the realization of these freedoms is always going to be asymmetric. In fact, the case can be made that the demand for freedom itself is not a progressive, but a reactionary demand which is propelled by patriarchal considerations.

Although like anyone I am a big supporter of my own freedoms, this has never been how I thought about relationships. It is not my desire to come up with a concept which ring-fences the scope of restrictions which women’s societal interests might place upon me within relationships. Rather, I have a fundamental ethical repulsion to the idea that I might unnecessarily and unreasonably limit someone else’s freedom in order to further my own self-interest. I am sure I do so unwittingly, and I am aware that societal norms do it for me whether I have active agency in the process or not, but I am committed to self-examination and doing whatever I can around me to counter this bias, including trying to help women to understand that what they “want” is not what they really want.

This is, obviously, an attempt to discover forms of relationship in which women have full agency, forms which, I am convinced, are a lot better for the planet and for men. It is a sort of feminist agenda, but it differs in terms of focus. Feminism, for understandable reasons, deploys most of its energy in the critique of patriarchy. And this is very necessary and must continue. The idea of “post-feminism” I find absurd. However, few feminist thinkers have really imagined a post-patriarchy, or taken full advantage of recent insights into human ethology. They have tended to assume that the patriarchal order suited the interests of men, and been dismissive of the idea, espoused by people like Pierre Bourdieu, that the vast majority of men are also its victim.

As I see it, neither men nor women have the slightest objective interest in patriarchy and we should all unite in a struggle to identify its strategies and disarm it. It is only when we appreciate the mechanisms underlying the social construction and reproduction of patriarchal norms that we can start to do so. The assumption of male agency, and exclusive male agency, in the reproduction of patriarchy is fundamentally distracting.

The notion that men get to control women’s sexuality is not only a cornerstone of patriarchy but doubtless its very keystone. The imposition of monoandry on (most) women, whether freeborn or slaves, appears to have characterized the vast majority of human societies, both in practice and as a matter of ideology, since the beginnings of urban civilization at least. Perhaps we might even go further and speak of anandry, because whilst the man had a right of sexual access to his spouse, not even this much applied in the opposite sense. Women’s sex lives probably varied between deeply unfulfilling and entirely inexistent.

As I said, as far as I am concerned the unconditional and irrevocable abandonment of any claim on the life, affections and behavior of another human being is an ethical imperative and a prerequisite of the spiritual process I have referred to, in baptizing this blog, as “becoming human”. Women and children are not the property of men and cannot be treated as such in a humanism worthy of the twenty-first century; every vestige of such patriarchalism has to be uncovered and uprooted. My concept of becoming human, for all extents and purposes, at least insofar as I am meaningfully able to discuss it intersubjectively, coincides with the dismantling of patriarchy and the restoration of biologically innate behavior (although I am of course aware that there is no such thing as a deculturalized biology, hopefully what I mean by this is sufficiently clear from what I have written elsewhere).

My approach to relationships flows from a constructive engagement with the imperative of building a post-patriarchal social system. This is its essence. I can hardly accept to describe myself using terms which at best relegate this essence to a secondary position and at worst lump me together with people whose ideology I find repugnant.

Therefore I am proposing to coin, or at least promote, a term which surprisingly seems to have little academic pedigree to date. I am going to call the project of creating a society which is rid of the normative and symbolic presence of patriarchy post-patriarchalism. As monogamy is an impossible institution in a post-patriarchal world, this term necessarily implies, in the context of relationships, a form of polyamory which cannot be normatively monoandrous. Post-patriarchalism obviously implies concerns and an agenda which go beyond romantic-sexual relationships. In a broader sense, though, patriarchy (like virility and femininity) is a fundamentally relational term, which only has meaning to describe the social structuration of male-female relationships.

That still doesn’t give me a great word, and it’s a bit of a mouthful. But I hope it at least resolves what for me would be an intolerable ambiguity. I am a post-patriarchalist, committed to the sexual agency of women, whom I definitely trust, if empowered and on aggregate, to make the world a better place than it is now, and men better people. At the same time, we should not be under any illusions: most people, even feminists, are unaware and unsuspecting of how deeply the tentacles of patriarchy reach within them and shape their modes of thought. Men are also disempowered. The very notion of feminism as a marked category relies on patriarchy as an unmarked one. I am fully behind a feminist agenda, and yet it is in the nature of symbolic resistance that it inevitably creates an us-versus-them mentality of which we need to be acutely aware. Feminism is perceived as posing a threat to the relative position of men in the society in which we live because it would operate a rebalancing in favor of women.

This perception, however, aligns the vast mass of disempowered men with the interests of an empowered elite – just as that elite would wish and has always engineered – an elite which, moreover, itself disregards in plain sight the same values which it instrumentalizes and promulgates (again largely unconsciously) for the purpose of social control. In fact, I would go further and say that the control of women’s sexuality has never been a goal in itself: it has “merely” been the means employed by society to control the behavior of men. Thus many men believe they need to struggle against feminism because feminism is opposed to their interests qua men, and therefore they align themselves with the interests of patriarchy, which is much more deeply opposed to their interests. This is precisely the mechanism which reproduces the symbolic domination both of women by men and of men by elite (male) interests.

In a war of men against women, conducted within the symbolic universe of patriarchy and on its terms, it is obvious who will win. Feminist strategies will not eliminate patriarchy even centuries from now unless they address the central facts of symbolic domination. Thus, feminism is commonly thought of as striving for equality for women. However, equality is an extremely loaded term, and one which does not really mean what it says. Entitled groups have long appropriated the struggle for equality in such a way as to ensure it never happens in fact, because what is sought is impossible: it essentially amounts to pretending that disadvantaged groups can one day become advantaged groups. Perhaps a few will, but the vast majority cannot. This is not a strategy for social change but for social reproduction. The problem is not the distribution of advantage, but advantage itself. Thus, feminism will never fully realize its goals if all it seeks to do is extend male advantage to women. This is playing the patriarchal game by the patriarchal rules. It’s fully legitimate and I would never oppose it, but it is not strategic. Given that patriarchy oppresses both men and women, and given that its abolition would benefit both men and women, a way needs to be found to coopt all those of good will which does not frame the issue only as one of men vs. women. Men need to understand that they enjoy a relative advantage over women as a result of patriarchy, but they also pay a huge price for this; women’s emancipation is not a zero-sum game, but an intrinsic consequence of a whole new project of a much better society.

We are certainly not in a world where the goals of the feminist movement have been realized: far from it. Nor would I advocate shedding the label. But I think we need to be aware of some of its limitations and look for complementary notions which make clear that women and men have a common enemy, which is patriarchy. Those women and men who are reaching for personal empowerment need to strive to reinvent social institutions freed from all traces of patriarchy, not just from male privilege. These institutions need to do much more than make men and women formally equal: they need also to make them happy. Therefore women and men should unite under the banner of post-patriarchalism in their, and everyone’s, shared interest. And it seems to me that this must start in the bedroom, and it must start with an unequivocal renunciation, by men, of any attempt to control or limit the sexual and emotional freedom of women. Post-patriarchalism implies non-mononormativity in relationships. Once this is clear, who really cares what we call the relationship structures which will result?