Patrick J. Deneen
Why Liberalism Failed
New Haven, Ct./New York: Yale University Press, 2018
Patrick Deneen, a Professor of Political Science at the University of Notre Dame, wrote the present study in 2016, completing it shortly before Donald Trump’s election. In February 2019, a paperbound edition with a few revisions and a new Preface was published.
Why Liberalism Failed is a study comparing the basic assumptions of Lockean liberalism with its historical results as revealed in our own time.
Now, as the author points out, not everything we think of as liberalism originated in early modern times:
Many of the institutional forms of government that we today associate with liberalism were at least initially conceived and developed over long centuries preceding the modern age, including constitutionalism, separation of powers, separate spheres of church and state, rights and protections against arbitrary rule, federalism, rule of law, and limited government. Protection of rights of individuals and the belief in inviolable human dignity, if not always consistently recognized and practiced, were nevertheless philosophical achievements of premodern medieval Europe. Some scholars regard liberalism simply as the natural development, and indeed the culmination, of protoliberal thinking and this long period of development, and not as any sort of radical break from premodernity. (23)
However, there was certainly a significant conceptual break with classical ethico-political thought in the seventeenth century. Previous to this break, the tradition of thought stemming from Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, and their Christian heirs held liberty to be
the condition of self-governance, whether achieved by the individual or by a political community. Because self-rule was achieved only with difficulty – requiring an extensive habituation in virtue, particularly self-command and self-discipline over base but insistent appetites – the achievement of liberty required constraints upon individual choice. This limitation was achieved not primarily through promulgated law – though law had its place – but through extensive social norms in the form of custom. (xiii)
Classical and Christian ethical thought centered on “the duties of one’s station,” that “station” being the specific manner in which each person was embedded (usually from birth) in the larger social formations of family, economic class, and local community, each with its own preexisting customs and traditions.
This station in society was integral to one’s personal identity; one could no more exist outside that context than a tree could live without soil or light. Since desire is infinitely expansible, but the world is finite and must be shared with others, the desires of the individual must be limited by considerations of the common good. Hence, the duty to govern one’s appetites. Law stepped in only to deal with cases where self-control and habituation had failed.
The modern break from this tradition had a number of dimensions, but Deneen emphasizes three: first, the rejection of self-control through reason and habituation in favor of a paradigm in which the “pride, selfishness, greed and the quest for glory” of different groups within a society are harnessed to check the same passions in other groups (Machiavelli); second, traditional social, religious, economic, and familial structures, formerly “viewed as essential supports for a training in virtue, and hence preconditions for liberty,” came to be reinterpreted as sources of oppression, arbitrariness, and conflict from which individuals were to be liberated through rationally-based positive law (Descartes and Hobbes); and third, the understanding of nature as a cosmos of which man is a part was rejected in favor of a fundamental opposition between man and nature, with the latter serving as raw materials for human activity for “the easing of man’s estate” and the increase of his power (Bacon).
The protoliberal philosopher Thomas Hobbes even denied that rational self-control was possible: “Thoughts, are to the Desires, as Scouts, and Spies, to range abroad, and find the way to the things Desired.” Consistent with this understanding of man, Hobbes denied that liberty could meaningfully be understood as anything more than an absence of interference with desire: “if a man should talk to me of a free will, or any free, but free from being hindered by opposition, I should not say he were in an error, but that his words were without meaning, that is to say, absurd.” As Deneen comments: “liberalism in many cases attained its ends by redefining shared words and concepts and, through that redefinition, colonizing existing institutions with fundamentally different anthropological assumptions.”
Of course, Hobbes and his liberal successors understood that desires must be checked for society to function. But they made a conscious choice in favor of external constraints, holding that “the only limitation on liberty should be duly enacted laws consistent with maintaining order of otherwise unfettered individuals” (xiii). Freedom existed wherever the law was silent, and except as limited by law, desire might be satisfied without limit. Wealth, for example, could be safely maximized: “The public stock cannot be too great for the public use,” Hobbes wrote.
In a sense, though Deneen does not state this, the modern ethico-political conceptions are more primitive and probably older than those of classical thought. Even today the average child would have no difficulty grasping the concept of freedom as the absence of interference, or that of thought as a tool of desire. Understanding the concept of self-mastery requires greater maturity, and probably came along later in history, just as it does in the life of the average person. Pace Hobbes, however, it is both meaningful and observable: Anyone who has known a person unable to keep a credit card without getting himself deeply into debt can see that the classical concept of bondage to desire – and its corresponding ideal of liberty as self-mastery – is no absurdity. In modern psychology, conscientiousness is one of the five major dimensions of personality. Liberalism is based on an anthropological falsehood.
It has certainly revolutionized the world and produced at least some good effects, however. The most full-throated celebration of liberalism is known as the “Whig interpretation of history” that, in Deneen’s words, goes something like this:
The advent of liberalism marks the end of a benighted age, the liberation of humanity from darkness, the overcoming of oppression and arbitrary inequality, the descent of monarchy and aristocracy, the advance of prosperity and modern technology, and the advent of an age of nearly unbroken progress. Liberalism is credited with the cessation of religious war, the opening of an age of tolerance and equality, the expanding spheres of personal opportunity that today culminate in globalization and the ongoing victories over sexism, racism, colonialism, heteronormativity and a host of other prejudices. (27-28)
Of course, the notion that the distinction between men and women is an arbitrary prejudice from which the state must liberate us is a good clue that liberalism has turned into a Frankenstein’s monster which is now out to devour its creator.
As Deneen sees it, liberalism has quietly remade the world in its own image, converting human beings into monadic individual wills impatient of restraint, accepting no duties they have not themselves chosen, and looking to the state to “liberate” them from the claims of their fellow man. Referring to Karl Polanyi’s The Great Transformation (1944), he writes:
The individual as a disembodied, self-interested economic actor didn’t exist in any actual state of nature but rather was the creation of an elaborate intervention by the incipient state in early modernity. Economic arrangements were separated from particular cultural and religious contexts in which those arrangements were understood to serve moral ends [such as] the sustenance of community order and the flourishing of families within that order. The replacement of this economy required a deliberate and often violent reshaping… most often by elite economic and state actors disrupting traditional practices. The “individuation” or people required people’s acceptance that their labor and its products were commodities subject to price mechanisms, a transformative way of considering people and nature alike in newly utilitarian and individualistic terms. This process was repeated countless times in the history of modern political economy: in efforts to eradicate the medieval guilds, in the enclosure controversy, in state suppression of “Luddites,” in state support for owners over organized labor, and in government efforts to empty the nation’s farmlands via mechanized, industrial farming. (51-52)
This emphasis on the ways both state power and market forces have been harnessed by liberalism constitutes one of the great merits of Deneen’s book. As he observes, most of today’s political debate opposes a “pro-market Right” to a “pro-state Left;” i.e., it occurs within liberalism, so that whichever side wins, the liberal project is advanced.
Liberalism is fundamentally hostile to culture which, properly speaking, consists in precisely the traditional social, religious, economic, and familial structures from which the individual is to be liberated. Culture is a “set of generational customs, practices and rituals that are grounded in local and particular settings” (64). It at once looks past the present generation and binds people to a social and geographical place. Liberalism abstracts from both time and place, fostering “a new experience of time as a pastless present in which the future is a foreign land; and . . . [rendering] place fungible and bereft of definitional meaning” (66).
A healthy culture is akin to healthy agriculture . . . that takes into account local conditions intends to maintain fecundity over generation, and so must work with the facts of given nature, not approach nature as an obstacle to the attainment of one’s unbounded appetites. Modern industrialized agriculture works on the liberal model that apparent natural limits are to be overcome through short-term solutions whose consequences will be left for future generations. (70)
Liberalism makes humanity into mayflies, and unsurprisingly, its culmination has led each generation to accumulate scandalous levels of debt to be left for its children, while rapacious exploitation of resources continues in the progressive belief that future generations will devise a way to deal with the depletions. (74)
Deneen mentions that there were once laws “forbidding banks to open branches in communities outside where they were based, premised on a belief that the granting and acceptance of debt rested on trust and local knowledge.” He quotes a banker’s 1928 characterization of the business he was in: “the community as a whole demands of the banker that he shall be an honest observer of conditions around him, that he shall make constant and careful study of those conditions, financial, economic, social and political, and that he shall have a wide vision over them all.” The economic crash of 2008 was in part the result of the elimination of such cultural norms “that existed to regulate and govern the granting and procuring of mortgages” (86). The response to the disaster, predictably, was a call for more governmental regulation, not any renewed reliance on local knowledge and responsibility. Most of us have simply lost any ability to think outside the liberal opposition of state and market forces.
What used to be called the American Dream was roughly a country where every man of normal capacity with a willingness to work could afford to support a wife and family, own a home and car, and take the children to the beach every summer. The realization of such a social vision in the middle of the last century was ascribed at the time (i.e., during the Cold War) largely to America’s free enterprise system. Now that this way of life is lost to us, we can better perceive that it also depended on certain limitations to the rule of market forces: viz., legalized discrimination against working women (the reservation of “family wage” jobs to men), restrictions on immigration (especially by the low-skilled), trade unionism and collective bargaining, as well as greater obstacles to foreign “outsourcing.” We have liberalism to thank for tearing all these supports away.
In compensation, it has given us the cheapness of the junk at Walmart. Economist Tyler Cowen believes that the rise of the talented few “will make it easier to ignore those who are left behind.” He has actually proposed constructing subsidized favelas where the losers of the liberal economic order – the majority of the population – can while away the years between birth and death with distractions such as free internet: “We might even look ahead to a time when the cheap or free fun is so plentiful that it will feel a bit like Karl Marx’s communist utopia, albeit brought on by capitalism.” He describes this nightmare scenario as “the light at the end of the tunnel” (141).
Deneen notes the irony that an economic system which has sacrificed everything to individual autonomy has come to seem even to the most talented like an impersonal form of bondage, a rat race from which there is no escape. He reports a typical student telling him:
If we do not race to the very top, the only remaining option is a bottomless pit of failure. To spend time in intellectual conversation in moral or philosophical issues or to go on a date all detract from time we could be spending on getting to the top and thus will leave us worse off relative to everyone else. (11-12)
Under our “meritocratic” education system, “elite universities engage in the educational equivalent of strip mining: identifying economically valuable raw materials in every city, town, and hamlet, they strip off that valuable commodity, process it in a different location, and render the products economically useful for productivity elsewhere.” But just how long are our economically valuable processed materials going to remain productive for us if they no longer even have time to go on dates? Meanwhile, “the places that supplied the raw materials are left much like depressed coal towns whose mineral wealth has been long since mined and exported” (132).
Education in the service of economic productivity is seen as “practical” but, as Deneen observes, this is to ignore the “more capacious way of understanding ‘practical’ to include how one lives as a spouse, parent, neighbor, citizen, and human being.” The abstract babbling about “social justice” on university campuses encourage functions as a replacement for the genuine social duties students no longer have.
Meanwhile, “conservative” legislatures are gutting the humanities offerings at state-supported schools in the name of cost-cutting. One liberal administrator has perceptively described the mindset: “They’ve decided that rather than defending Edmund Burke, it’s easier just to run Intro to Business online and call it a day.”
Deneen is not optimistic about the prospects for a political solution to the crisis of liberalism, warning that “the likely popular reaction to an increasingly oppressive liberal order might be forms of authoritarian illiberalism that would promise citizens power over those forces that no longer seemed under their control: government, economy, and the dissolution of social norms.” I believe this is correct. The best near-term political fix would likely be a Caesarism similar to what Donald Trump promised but failed to deliver in America. As Deneen says,
the “limited government” of liberalism today would provoke jealousy and amazement from tyrants of old, who could only dream of such extensive capacities for surveillance and control of movement, finances, and even deeds and thoughts.
Could the “illiberal democracy” endorsed by Viktor Orbán really be any worse?
In the longer term, the answer to our problems is not to be found in politics at all:
There is evidence of growing hunger for an organic alternative to the cold, bureaucratic, and mechanized world liberalism has to offer. While especially evident in the remnants of orthodox religious traditions, . . . the building up of practices of care, patience, humility, reverence, respect, and modesty is also evident among people of no particular religious belief, homesteaders and “radical homemakers” who are seeking within households and local communities to rediscover old practices that foster forms of culture liberalism otherwise seeks to eviscerate. Often called a counterculture, such efforts should better understand themselves as a counter-anticulture. (191-192)
As advanced liberalism throws ever more people into economic and familial instability, and our ever-increasing individual autonomy leaves us (as Tocqueville predicted) both “independent and weak,” “such communities of practice will increasingly be seen as lighthouses and field hospitals to those who might once have regarded them as peculiar and suspect” (197).
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Lisez et relisez les lignes de Guénon sur cette capacité hallucinatoire du monde moderne. Puis pensez à ces jeunes du métro ou du train, logés dans six mètres carrés, et qui passent leur temps sur les centimètres carrés des écrans lumineux de leur smartphone…
Et basculons. Le procès du transport moderne devient le procès des camps d’extermination :
La souveraineté et ses interprètes, Tocqueville, Rousseau et C.Schmitt
Macron, la France et l'Europe
Sous couvert de "raison", dira-t-on, les démocraties de l’Ouest se sont nourries d'une logique de "déraison" qui a théorisé et pratiqué le sens de la démesure et l'extension continue des droits sans devoirs. Cet outrage du "bon sens" a conduit au dépassement des " limites" de l’État, de la Nation, de la famille et de l'anthropologie, et à l'égarement de "l'affectio sociétatis", propres des sociétés homogènes, aboutissant à la "société liquide" de Zygmunt Bauman.
Ainsi le Souverainisme n'est pas un populisme, puisqu'il n'est pas une promesse, mais une volonté ; il n'est pas la critique des élites, mais la revendication d'un destin.
Il affirma, sans risque de se tromper, que: "La liberté de conscience comporte plus de dangers , que l'autorité et le despotisme". Nous dirions que les systèmes ouverts comportent infiniment plus de périls que les systèmes fermés, car ils baignent dans les marécages de la responsabilité, refusée par la plupart des damnés de la "Divine Comédie", ne pouvant s'en sortir que par la terreur de la mort.
« Plus personne n’ignore, en effet, que c’est bien François Mitterrand lui-même (avec la complicité, entre autres, de l’économiste libéral Jacques Attali et de son homme à tout faire de l’époque Jean-Louis Bianco) qui, en 1984, a délibérément organisé depuis l’Elysée (quelques mois seulement, par conséquent, après le fameux “tournant libéral” de 1983) le lancement et le financement de SOS-Racisme, un mouvement “citoyen” officiellement “spontané” (et d’ailleurs aussitôt présenté et encensé comme tel dans le monde du showbiz et des grands médias) mais dont la mission première était en réalité de détourner les fractions de la jeunesse étudiante et lycéenne que ce ralliement au capitalisme auraient pu déstabiliser vers un combat de substitution suffisamment plausible et honorable à leurs yeux. »
To understand why Europeans were the progenitors of the highest accomplishments in history – close to one hundred percent of the great ideas in philosophy, science, anthropology, sociology, economics, geography, geology, astronomy, mathematics, architecture, technology, dance, and music – you must understand the Presocratic self-conscious separation of the knowing “I” from the “not-I.” The Presocratics were the first humans to discover that they have a mind that is the seat of thinking and thus of knowledge, the only agency in the whole realm of nature able to separate itself from everything that is not its own, as well as making itself “a possible object of thought to itself,” as Aristotle would put it in a clear-cut manner later on [On the Soul, Bk. III: Ch. 4, 429b]. The Presocratics were the first men to detach their ego consciousness from the surrounding natural world, establishing their thinking “I” as the cognitive center, the decision-maker as to what makes truthful statements possible, in contradistinction to traditions handed down without reflection, the voices of gods and demons.
Laks brings up studies about the “Orientalizing” aspects of Greek culture, borrowings from the Near East, briefly mentioning Jaspers’ thesis about similar breakthroughs elsewhere in the world from mythology to rationality during the Axial Age period between 800 and 200 BC. He also pays particular attention to J. P. Vernant’s central book, The Origins of Greek Thought (1962), and its claim that there was no “Greek miracle” in the sense that Greek reason did not arise suddenly out of some innate Greek genius but was a product of the democratizing political atmosphere within the city-states, which encouraged debate and a form of rationality that was then extended to the study of nature.
Beginning with Thales’ use of a common noun, water, rather than a mythic name, as the ultimate source of all things, Anaximander (610-546 BC), writing some forty years after his teacher Thales, would try to locate in a precise sequence the increasing distance from the Earth of the Moon, Sun, and stars. Anaximander wrote about heavenly bodies as impersonal forces without any anthropomorphic traits, using a language “keen on processes of abstraction and conceptualization” (41). Even in political thinking, one finds in the works of Solon an emphasis on human responsibility for their own misfortune and a denial of intentionality on the part of gods. Around 500 BC we have Heraclitus describing the universe as a kosmos, an orderly arrangement characterized by regularity without divine influences. She notes the “pointedly polemical character” of Heraclitus’ writing and, indeed, how each Presocratic thinker, from Heraclitus on, proposed a new theory in self-conscious refutation of preceding theories, engaging in “second-order questions” as to why their theoretical approaches were superior to previous assessments. Sassi says that this “self-conscious knowledge” bespeaks of thinkers who were increasingly aware that knowledge flows out of their own knowing minds in competition with other rationalizing minds. She cites Heraclitus’ proclamation, “I went in search of myself,” in order “to stress that he extrapolated the contents of logos from an isolated and highly personal reflection” (73). She notes as well how Heraclitus developed a conception of the psyche as the source of cognition away from the Homeric notion of the psyche as vital breath. Knowledge is the product of the activity of the psyche.
Sassi contrasts as well the “conservation” role of writing in the Near East, which remained religious and was “composed anonymously within a circle of priests and then copied for centuries without any conceptual changes” (75), to the writing of the Greeks, which was open to everyone. She estimates that about thirty percent of male citizens in the polis were able to read and write. The Greeks adopted prose writing in the last decades of the fifth century, she says, in their “search for directness and unambiguousness” and their preference for truths freed from the “restraints of prosody,” and in contradistinction to the texts of Mesopotamia with their “revelations of a preestablished traditional” worldview immune “from authorial interventions” (142). Herodotus’ Histories was the “first extended prose narrative of Greek literature,” followed by Zeno, Melissus, the Pythagoreans, Anaxagoras, Leucippus, and Democritus. This was a prose “rich in elaborate syntactical structures in unison with a linguistic inquiry that prefers precision over metaphors and evocative expressions” (171).
Johnstone’s account is thus limited in its focus on alphabetic writing as such, which leads him to ponder about other “conditions . . . that incubated the seeds of Western scientific and philosophical thought.” He brings up the city of Miletos, from which the first Presocratics came, as a location at the “crossroads for east and west.” He says that exposure in this city “to a wide variety of mythic traditions and to alternative ways of understanding” somehow produced, in the words of an academic he cites, “a breakthrough in man’s thinking, a shift toward rationalism” (38). Academics love this stuff about diverse cities creating cultural “enrichment.” They never care to ask why the far older cosmopolitan cities of the Near East failed to produce any rationalism and why whites are always the ones responsible for new ideas.
Vamvacas makes the very important point that “Presocratic philosophy is not the culmination of a sudden awakening of the Greek spirit. It is the culminating result of a long development and maturation of the Greek mind” (19). He says little, however, about this long development, apart from noticing that Hesiod’s Theogony goes beyond standard mythological accounts in placing the gods “in a consistent, complete, ordered system,” and posing questions about the beginning of the world, and communicating an interest in “truths.” Vamvacas refers briefly to the “awakening of the personality of the Greek” in early lyric poetry, the fact that such poets as Archilochus, Simonides, and Sappho (writing in the seventh century after Homer, and before the Presocratics) expressed their own “personal values.” But not much else is said. Snell still remains the go-to source for the argument that Greek lyric poets were the first ones to separate the individual self from prescribed expressions and norms. Vamvacas is nevertheless an excellent source for a comprehensive argument about the scientific orientation of the Presocratics. I like the statement that during the Presocratics era “for the first time the human mind focuses on the truth” (20). He does not explain the connection between the discovery of the mind and the pursuit of truth, but it is implicit in his overall argument that there can be no truth-seeking without an inner awareness of the faculty of reason, the only faculty that can legislate for itself principles, concepts, and theories, because, if I may use the words of Aristotle, it is the only faculty that is “able to think itself” [On the Soul, Bk. III: Ch. 4, 429b].
But while alphabetic writing eventually became an indispensable means of communicating truths (during the fourth century BC), beyond poetic recitations about the norms to be valued in a community, I would argue, as Havelock admits in passing, that “there are clear signs in Homer himself that the Greek mind would one day reach out in search of a different kind of experience” beyond poetic recitation. I will not repeat my view that Homer was a transitional figure. It may suffice to point out Havelock’s own recognition that alphabetic writing barely existed before Euripides, by which time the Presocratics had already achieved so much. Havelock knows this: “the Presocratics themselves were essentially oral thinkers . . . but they were trying to device a vocabulary and syntax for a new future, when thought should be expressed in categories organized in a syntax suitable to abstract statement” (x).
L’interprétation de la French theory par la CIA devrait nous faire réfléchir, dans ce cas, à reconsidérer le vernis radical chic qui a accompagné en grande partie sa réception anglophone. Selon une conception étapiste d’une histoire progressiste (généralement aveugle à sa téléologie implicite), l’œuvre de figures comme Foucault, Derrida et d’autres théoriciens français d’avant-garde est souvent intuitivement associée à une forme de critique radicale et sophistiquée qui dépasse sans doute de loin tout ce que l’on trouve dans les traditions socialistes, marxistes ou anarchistes. Il est certainement vrai, et mérite d’être souligné que la réception anglophone de la French theory, comme John McCumber l’a souligné à juste titre, a eu d’importantes implications politiques en tant que pôle de résistance aux fausses neutralités politiques, aux formalismes techniques rassurants de la logique et du langage, ou au conformisme idéologique direct opérant dans la tradition philosophique anglo-américaine et soutenu par McCarthy. Cependant, les pratiques théoriques des philosophes qui ont tourné le dos à ce que 
Es en dos etapas bien diferenciadas en donde cabe hablar de la prosapia hispana de la filosofía. Hubo una primera -pero ya remota- etapa de realismo escolástico, en la Edad Moderna, esto es, en los siglos áureos del Imperio. Hubo y hay otra etapa, mucho más reciente, presidida de forma contemporánea por el vitalismo filosófico de nuestro Unamuno y de nuestro Ortega. Es de este vitalismo de donde partimos hoy en la hispana filosofía y de donde, según los pasos que muestra Manuel F. Lorenzo, podemos beber y alzar nuevas construcciones del pensamiento. El vitalismo hispano, como el de toda Europa, bien podría bascular en dos direcciones, entre sí antagónicas. Una dirección posible, hacia donde inclinar su peso, es claramente irracionalista. La Vida como opuesta a la Razón, la Vida como primum que no atiende a razones, que siente las razones como enfermas y como lastres, como artificios y excrecencias. Los pensadores germanos han sido pródigos en este vitalismo irracionalista e irracional. Schopenhauer Nietzsche, Klages, son nombres que acuden entonces a la mente, y su filosofía hiriente incomoda a todo aquel que busca incólumes certezas, cimientos lógico-matemáticos, solideces de plomo, granito y acero. Eran aquellos filósofos de la vida enemigos de la ratio rebeldes muy a la alemana, esto es, rebeldes dados a la reacción.
La razón vital no se limita pensar en y desde "el hombre de carne y hueso". La razón vital implica que la vida humana no es sólo razón, pero sí es ejecución de actos en orden a una gestión de la vida misma, una gerencia y construcción que se hace de acuerdo con principios racionales. El hombre no es, para nada, un autómata racional, sino un sujeto orgánico cuya forma humana de adaptación y supervivencia psicobiológica exige la racionalidad. El hombre viene definido, en rigor, no por una sustancial cogitación ("yo soy una cosa que piensa") sino por una actividad circular, por un circuito entre el Yo y las Cosas (el "no-Yo" de Fichte). Ninguno de los polos del circuito debe ser reificado de antemano, ninguno ha de ser tratado acríticamente como una cosa o sustancia. La constitución de los dos polos, yo y mundo ("circunstancias"), consiste precisamente en el lanzamiento de series de acciones en las que el Yo se hace con el Mundo y recíprocamente el Mundo se presenta y re-presenta ante el Yo. La filosofía de Ortega, que tantas veces bebe de la fenomenología y del existencialismo alemán, es vitalista por cuanto que plantea siempre un sujeto humano orgánico definido como un verdadero sistema racional de operatividad, para quien conocer es, de otro modo, coextensivo con sobrevivir y "hacerse con el mundo". Las circunstancias orteguianas, como el "medio" (Umwelt) de los biólogos, conforman el espacio de las operaciones, un espacio que da pie a redefinir la experiencia en términos de construcción. Ortega no quería echar por la borda la razón, aplastarla bajo el peso de una salvaje o bestial Voluntad o Vida. Antes bien, quería explicar el hecho humano mismo de la razón. Al proceder así, al avanzar desde la dialéctica de Fichte, el raciovitalismo del filósofo madrileño ofrece un programa genético del racionalismo tanto como del empirismo. Se trata de volver al genuino espíritu con el que nació el idealismo: la superación de la magna filosofía europea de la Modernidad, tanto el empirismo isleño como el racionalismo continental, una superación que acude a la génesis misma del conocimiento. Y el conocimiento es al fin entendido no como resultado de acumulación de experiencias o como deducción de principios racionales o ideas innatas, sino como resultado de una experiencia en sí misma racional desde el inicio. Experiencia orgánica que se estructura en forma de sistemas de acciones que, por medio de una lógica material, estructuran nuevos sistemas de acciones más amplios en radio de alcance, más potentes en influjo sobre el medio, más "hábiles" en orden a una adaptación y control sobre el medio. En este sentido, Jean Piaget convirtió en empresa "positiva", científica y experimental, una parte muy importante del proyecto esbozado por Ortega. Piaget llevó a cabo un programa científico de esclarecimiento de los orígenes de la inteligencia y la razón de los sujetos orgánicos partiendo no tanto de un "Yo" que se pone (Fichte) y se limita con el No-Yo (mundo en torno, o "circunstancias") sino de un circuito que ya en la fase pre-intelectual incluye ese centro orgánico que lanza acciones-percepciones, como choca con "dificultades" y "obstáculos" de un entorno con el que deberá luchar. El bebé humano, tanto como cualquier individuo orgánico, es un centro de operaciones y es a la vez el eco y la respuesta de un medio ambiente transformado por las operaciones. Los dos sentidos en los que el sujeto orgánico "choca" con el mundo y lo transforma, a la vez que se transforma él, han recibido por parte de Piaget los nombres de "asimilación" y "acomodación". La asimilación, como proceso que generaliza la asimilación de los alimentos, supone la incorporación cognitiva y no sólo material del mundo. El Yo se "pone", se afirma, incorporando elementos del medio que él necesita para su mantenimiento (conservación, supervivencia). Pero el mundo (el "no-Yo") se le opone, se le enfrenta, le traza caminos por donde poder ejercer la acción y por donde no puede atravesar ese mundo con la acción. La acomodación piagetiana podría verse como el sentido opuesto a las acciones asimilativas. El Yo, como centro orgánico de operaciones, debe transformarse a su vez, debe reestructurar sus esquemas de acción para sortear, horadar, recomponer las barreras y resistencia del mundo-entorno. La razón en el proceso vital no es más que el grado máximo en que un sistema de acciones "se hace con el mundo" y, recíprocamente, el mundo se hace con el yo. Esta es la razón vital, pero investigada desde un punto de vista genético y positivo.
La incorporación de la filosofía materialista de Gustavo Bueno a todo este enfoque genético-constructivo del pensamiento se hace ineludible en este punto de mi breve recensión. Manuel F. Lorenzo es un buen conocedor del materialismo buenista, como discípulo directo suyo desde los primeros tiempos, miembro activo de la llamada "Escuela de Oviedo", hoy en disolución bajo la sombra de los sectarios y de los arribistas. En "La Razón Manual", el autor nos recuerda el aserto fichteano con que encabezábamos esta reseña: "uno profesa la filosofía que va de acuerdo con la clase de hombre que se es". Profesar el materialismo de Bueno, a pesar de sus deudas para con la epistemología genética piagetiana supone, verdaderamente, profesar una suerte de dogmatismo, de pensamiento antipático a la libertad, dicho en términos fichteanos. Las clases de hombres que, filosóficamente hablando, cabe hallar en el mundo se pueden reducir a dos: los amigos de la libertad (idealismo) y los amigos de la servidumbre (dogmatismo, en donde cabe situar el "materialismo"). "La Razón Manual" es un libro que toma partido expreso y decidido por la libertad, se entronca en el idealismo. No en el idealismo visionario, celeste, construido sobre las nubes. Se entronca en la tradición idealista-vitalista que, desde Fichte, indaga en "el lado activo", esto es, en las operaciones. En ese sentido, la filosofía de Bueno estudiada a la luz de la filosofía de la "Razón Manual" adopta el aspecto de un centauro. Por un lado desarrolla una inmensa y magnífica "Teoría del Cierre Categorial", basada en la obra de Piaget y en una genética de las operaciones gnoseológicas, por otro lado incluye un "preámbulo ontológico" de corte escolástico-marxista, que lastra todo el sistema. El propio nombre de "materialismo filosófico" supone una fuente inagotable de equívocos, que ha dado pie a que muchos farsantes e iletrados lo confundan con una versión sofisticada del leninismo y otros, por el contrario, con un positivismo cientifista o realista. Los grandes logros de Gustavo Bueno, depurados del dogmatismo y su "culto a la materia", se pueden reaprovechar y potenciar siguiendo las indicaciones de "La Razón Manual", todo un programa de investigación que humildemente recomiendo.
Der Bewunderer des sozialpolitischen Denkers Panajotis Kondylis (1943-1998), Falk Horst, brachte vor einigen Monaten einen gehaltvollen Sammelband heraus. Der Titel lautet: „Panajotis Kondylis und die Metamorphosen der Gesellschaft“.
Et Marx commente et explique les passages cités :
Prof. Engels: Sehr einfach: Die EU glaubt, sich von der historischen Identität des Abendlands abwenden zu können und den (wiederum letztlich typisch christlich verankerten) Wunsch nach Selbstüberwindung und Selbstkritik so pervertiert überziehen zu können, daß sie ganz auf eine historische Fundamentierung ihrer Identität verzichtet und gewissermaßen in Erwartung künftiger Weltverbrüderung schon jetzt auf dem europäischen Kontinent einen universalistischen, multikulturellen, rein humanistisch und somit relativistisch fundierten Weltstaat aufbaut. Das ist in etwa so klug, als schneide man einer Pflanze die Wurzeln ab, damit ihre Bodenhaftung sie nicht am Wachstum hindere – und ebenso selbstzerstörerisch, denn das europäische Projekt kann sich über kurz oder lang nur in einen materialistischen, zynischen und hedonistischen Alptraum wandeln, wenn die „Werte“, auf denen es basiert, rein positivistisch gesetzt und somit beliebig interpretier- und manipulierbar sind, da ihnen jeglicher absoluter, sei es transzendentaler, sei es traditionaler Bezugspunkt fehlt.
Freie Welt: Was kann in Ihren Augen der einzelne Bürger heutzutage noch bewirken?
Carl Schmitt, alemán, católico in partibus indifelis y profundo conocedor de la teología cristiana, que fundamenta y da sentido a su pensamiento y acción, sólo es verdaderamente compresible en función de su circunstancia y sus esfuerzos por salvarla. Nació y vivió en medio de los tormentosos tiempos de la confrontación bélica que definió a la Europa de comienzos del Siglo XX y culminara en las dos Guerras Mundiales, las más devastadoras conflagraciones bélicas de la historia humana, culminando en los dos totalitarismos del siglo pasado: La revolución rusa de Lenin-Stalin y la revolución alemana de Adolf Hitler. Cuyas más nefastas consecuencias sirven de telón de fondo a su pensamiento.
Son esos conceptos, soberanía y legitimidad, como la valoración de las virtudes clásicas del soberano capaz de resolver el estado de excepción – la decisión y la voluntad – las que incomodan y disgustan a nuestros dialogadores, conciliadores y pacifistas de fe y profesión. Pues carecen de ellos. Es la tara que se encuentra en la raíz de esta oposición “conversadora”, para usar otro concepto caro al jurista alemán. En este caso concreto, privilegiar el diálogo y la conversación, el espurio entendimiento de partes ontológicamente enemigas y contrapuestas, antes que luchar con decisión y voluntad para restablecer la soberanía democrática, única capaz de ejercer una hegemonía legal y jurídica aceptada por el todo social. Negarse, como lo afirmara el pensador judío alemán Jacob Taubes en su ardorosa defensa de Carl Schmitt[3], a compartir el katechon, ese concepto paulista que invoca la necesidad de ponerle fin al caos y oponerse a las tendencias apocalípticas que estallan cuando las fuerzas disgregadoras provocan un estado de excepción. Y ello, como lo afirma Pablo en su Epístola a los romanos, con la urgencia debida, ho nyn kairós, en el “momento presente», vale decir: “en el tiempo que resta”. Ahora mismo, no el día de las calendas.
La diferenciación schmittiana es de trascendental importancia, precisamente porque quienes más se oponen a su cabal comprensión son aquellos sectores “liberales”, también en sentido schmittiano, – digamos: electoralistas, parlamentaristas, habladores y dialogadores, así sean socialdemócratas o socialcristianos, incluso liberales – , que, incapaces de comprender la totalidad social en disputa y asumir, consecuentemente, la naturaleza existencial, biológica de la guerra que nos ha declarado el chavomadurismo castro comunista – confunden enemistad con “competencia” y buscan en el diálogo y el contubernio resolver cualquier obstáculo a su justa ganancia. Confunde el ámbito de lo político con el mercado, y al Estado con la Asamblea Nacional. Olvidando, es decir traicionando el hecho de que el origen de la República, como Estado soberano, nació y se forjó de una Guerra a Muerte y de que, sentando un precedente hoy brutalmente irrespetado por los partidos de la que en el psado inmediato fuera la MUD y es hoy el llamado Frente Amplio, desconocen la decisión propiamente schmittiana, aunque a más de un siglo de distancia de la formulación del jurista alemán, que dictó el mandato definitorio del parto de nuestra Nación: «Españoles y Canarios, contad con la muerte, aun siendo indiferentes, si no obráis activamente en obsequio de la libertad de América. Americanos, contad con la vida, aun cuando seáis culpables.» Fue la Guerra a Muerte, en “donde todos los europeos y canarios casi sin excepción fueron fusilados” según el balance que hiciera Bolívar. Si no el texto, el sentido debiera ser emulado. Lo traicionan quienes se confabulan con los asaltantes y, con buenas o malas intenciones, se hacen cómplices de la guerra a muerte contra nuestra democracia y nuestra República. Tampoco Bolívar se opuso al diálogo y la negociación. Pero no en 1812, cuando declarara la Guerra a Muerte, sino en 1820, cuando la guerra estaba ganada. Traicionan a la República quienes lo olvidan.
In The Black Box Society: The Hidden Algorithms That Control Money and Information, University of Maryland law professor Frank Pasquale elaborates in great detail what others have called “platform capitalism,” emphasizing its one-way mirror quality. Increasingly, every aspect of our 
First, in the spirit of Václav Havel we might entertain the idea that the institutional workings of political correctness need to be shrouded in peremptory and opaque administrative mechanisms because its power lies precisely in the gap between what people actually think and what one is expected to say. It is in this gap that one has the experience of humiliation, of staying silent, and that is how power is exercised.
Il primo di questi è per l’appunto, il non saper leggere i segni, perché in fondo ad essi non crediamo affatto. Invero, ogni cosa nell’Universo Creato è segno, o per meglio dire, simbolo, di qualcos’altro. Questa è certezza di ogni Sapienza Tradizionale, anche e soprattutto di quella cristiana. La Storia, d’altro canto non è semplice successione di eventi, bensì Storia Sacra che si svolge dall’alfa all’omega secondo un superiore disegno di Provvidenza. Pertanto all’uomo il cui intelletto non è ancora stato sigillato non possono sfuggire i segni che continuamente essa ci presenta. Solo un’opera di cultura può colmare tale ignoranza e portare ad un primo risveglio dei sensi interiori.
What is interesting about this extensive genealogy is the glaring omission of William Blake’s rendering of the leviathan (see above image, dated 1805). Some have associated the image with Schmitt — for instance, in this Internet edition of 
« En nous rapprochant de l’Occident,… le VIe siècle fut le point de départ de la civilisation dite « classique », la seule à laquelle les modernes reconnaissent le caractère « historique », et tout ce qui précède est assez mal connu pour être traité de « légendaire », bien que les découvertes archéologiques récentes ne permettent plus de douter que, du moins, il y eut là une civilisation très réelle ; et nous avons quelques raisons de penser que cette première civilisation hellénique fut beaucoup plus intéressante intellectuellement que celle qui la suivit, et que leurs rapports ne sont pas sans offrir quelque analogie avec ceux qui existent entre l’Europe du moyen âge et l’Europe moderne. »
Et Tchouang-Tseu :
Le développement intellectuel, administratif et bureaucratique est cause de la décadence. Tchouang-Tseu :
Los hábitos regulares que forman la base moral y ética de la filosofía yóguica se denominan Yamas, a saber: inofensividad, veracidad, honradez, templanza y generosidad, y Niyamas, que abarcan la limpieza, el contento, la austeridad, el estudio de uno mismo y la devoción a un ideal.
Patánjali también nos habla del Dios último y enfoca la vida del hombre virtuoso y bueno en función de la consecución de una unión con lo divino. Cuando I. K. Taimni (1979)
L’historien Dominique Venner s’épanche longuement dans son essai, intitulé « Un samouraï d’Occident », sur les causes du déclin de l’Europe et de la civilisation helléno-chrétienne. D’après lui, l’inéluctable déclin de notre civilisation serait dû, d’entrée de jeu, à la perte de ce qui constituait la substantifique moelle de notre éthos collectif.
Charles Taylor pose un regard d’une grande acuité sur ce « nouveau conformisme » des générations de l’après-guerre. Cette génération spontanée, refusant d’assumer sa dette envers les ancêtres, s’imagine dans la peau d’un démiurge mû par une force automotrice. Rien ne doit entraver sa volonté de puissance, déguisée en désir de libération. Chacun se croit « original », unique en son genre et libre d’agir à sa guise dans un contexte où les forces du marché ont remplacé les antiques lois de la cité. Taylor se met dans la peau des nouveaux protagonistes de la contre-culture actuelle : « non seulement je ne dois pas modeler ma vie sur les exigences du conformisme extérieur, mais je ne peux même pas trouver de modèle de vie à l’extérieur. Je ne peux le trouver qu’en moi ». 
