The Ethics of Authenticity - A Review

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Charles Taylor is one of the critics of modernity whose work cannot be avoided. Taylor’s framework for understanding contemporary Western culture has been invoked, discussed, or critiqued widely in past few decades.

Many who have never picked up one of Taylor’s books nonetheless would recognize terms like buffered self or immanent frame if they were spoken within hearing. Those are ideas that accompany Taylor’s thoughts.

Unfortunately, though Taylor is important (even if not accepted by all) for understanding contemporary discussions, some of his works are both large and challenging to read. Many people, therefore, rely on second hand interpretations which are sometimes helpful, but also tend to carry freight beyond what Taylor intended. It’s always good to go to the source.

Taylor’s book, The Ethics of Authenticity, is a reasonable point of entry for his work. It originated as lectures that were received by a more popular than academic audience, so the language and explanation are much clearer. Additionally, the book itself is much shorter, while still providing a sufficiently thorough explanation of his main points.

In The Ethics of Authenticity, Taylor discusses three malaises of modernity: (1) Individualism; (2) The primacy of instrumental reasoning; and (3) The soft despotism of systems that are trying to maintain modernity’s grip.

Individualism is, Taylor recognizes, both a major accomplishment of modernity and one of its most troubling attributes. It is a good thing that the personhood and agency of an individual has been recognized and greater freedom has come to make real human progress. At the same time, the loss of the sense of belonging, of purpose, and of one’s proper place within the cosmos was swept away by what has become, in more extreme iterations, an existentialism full of dread.

Individualism led to the break down of the sense of order in the cosmos, which led to disenchantment. That disenchantment, in turn, contributes to the primacy of instrumental reasoning. Less often is the inherent worth of an object, a task, or a person considered. Instead, the chief measure of value is whether something is efficient, what the bottom line is, and what it can be used for. This is a totalizing perspective, which forces even those who recognize that people are more than inefficient machines still must terminate the employment of their least efficient workers, whether their family circumstances support it or not.

There is irony in the freedom that has been achieved through modernity. We are cut adrift from many of the most onerous obligations, but we are now caught by our isolation in a much more unforgiving machine, which is difficult to resist. Thus, “the institutions and structures of industrial-technological society severely restrict our choices, that they force societies as well as individuals to give a weight to instrumental reason that in serious moral deliberation we would never do, and which may even be highly destructive.”

These malaises all involve a high place for “authenticity” as a central virtue of modern moral thinking. Rather than faith, hope, and love, which all bear a sense of duty and constraint, the central concern of modern ethics is to be authentic—to be true to oneself. Taylor first of all shows how this is more than total narcissism and vacuous reasoning, which many (especially conservatives) ascribe to modern thinking as they dismiss it. At the same time, authenticity is also tyrannical. One’s identity is not complete until it is recognized (affirmed?) by another. This, then, makes the whole system incoherent.

However, Taylor argues, that the current system is too strongly woven into the fabric of society, so that stepping out of modernity is not possible. He writes, “The struggle ought no to be over authenticity; for or against it, but about it, defining its proper meaning. We ought to be trying to life the culture back up, closer to its motivating ideal.” That is, those of us seeking to reclaim some semblance of sanity in culture might be better off pointing people toward what it means to be truly and properly human.

I’m too new to Taylor’s work to draw a final conclusion. There is also too much more for me to read to claim to say, “This is the way.” However, as I read through The Ethics of Authenticity I underlined and annotated a large number of passages. I found myself nodding along, thinking that he had perhaps gotten something that I had not figured out just yet, and that it would be worth doing more homework to figure out if what he says can be put into practice.  At the very least, I think I have a better sense of what everyone else has been talking about. If you want that, too, then this may be a book for you.

On Getting Out of Bed - A Review

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Anyone who lives long enough will come to the day they aren’t sure if getting out of bed is worth it. Maybe it won’t be getting out of bed per se, but perhaps persisting in daily activity in the face of a difficult monotony.

Is it worth it to wash the dishes? Is it worth it to go to class? Maybe getting out to church isn’t really that important. Will anyone really miss me? Rather than face the endless list of tasks, sometimes it really feels like giving up is a better option.

Depression—whether the sort driven by temporary circumstances or true mental illness—comes for believers as often as non-believers. Sometimes Christians do not trust available resources to help themselves or others when the black dog of persistent sadness or anxiety sits on their chests.

There are, of course, some sharp divides among Christians about psychology and medical interventions for depression. Some, especially in the Nouthetic Counseling movement speak of psychological treatments as sinful. Other Christians do not raise any question about any psychological treatment whatsoever, accepting approaches to mental health that clearly contradict Scripture. We aren’t going to solve that debate here.

However, a common theme in discussions between those rival factions is the treatment of depression as if it is something “out there” and distinct from the person experiencing it. A different set of questions inhabits the mind of the individual wrestling with depression.

Alan Noble’s book, On Getting Out of Bed: The Burden and Gift of Living, is a phenomenal resource for those who struggle with depression. It is practical, not in the sense of providing seven steps to a better you, but in the sense it says the things that need to be said. It is both an encouragement to exist and an exhortation to persist in whatever activities one can manage.

Even our mere continued existence is a blessing to others in the midst of pain:

“Your existence is a testament, a living argument, an affirmation of creation itself. When you rise each day, that act is a faint but real echo of God’s ‘It is good.’ By living this life, you participate in God’s act of creation, asserting with your very existence that it is a good creation.”

The book provides a way to feel a sense of accomplishment in the mundane:

“When we act on [the goodness of creation] by rising out of bed, when we take that step to the block in radical defiance of suffering and our own anxiety and depression and hopelessness, with our heads held high, we honor God and His creation, and we testify to our family, to our neighbors, and to our friends of his goodness. This act is worship.”

And those stringing together those little “victories” by taking one step at a time is a witness to God’s faithfulness:

“Moments create momentum. When you choose to do the next thing, neither accepting nor denying the anxiety or depression you carry, you create the momentum that makes the next, next thing a bit easier to manage. And the converse is true. When you cannot do the next thing, everything becomes harder to manage.”

Noble reminds readers that neither our suffering nor even our disobedience can undermine God’s glorious plan of redemption, “because the ending is already written: you will overcome, Christ has redeemed and will glorify you, including your flawed and, in some cases, ill mind.”

One of the strong positives of Noble’s approach is that it takes the reality of anxiety and depression seriously, but it does not excuse people for ceasing to strive against it. The feelings are real, but the duty to care for your neighbor is also real. Therefore, it is a good thing to continue to do what you can. It is not ok to simply give up, even if you can’t do everything you could normally do. Having diminished capacity is no sin; not using the capacity you have for the glory of God is. Duty and grace are wound together.

This is a hopeful book. Noble reminds readers of the central purpose of our existence:

“In the end, the only reason to keep living is if you live before God for His glory. If His Word is true, then we were divinely created to glorify Him and enjoy Him always. And our creation was a fundamentally good act––good and prodigal. Neither earned nor necessary but a gracious gift. And when we live in gratitude, recognizing and delighting in this life, we honor God.”

On Getting Out of Bed is an encouraging book. It is the sort of book that Christians should read to better understand the struggles of others, but also to have a better theology of suffering and hope before their own day of struggle arises. It can be a help in a time of struggle, but the best treatments are often taken in advance. There is a persistent theme of hope throughout the book. The message is that the fight is hard but worth it.

This book, which is Noble’s third, is the best of them so far. The social commentary he offers in Disruptive Witness and You are Not Your Own is important. The practical hope he writes about in On Getting Out of Bed is the antidote to many of the malaises that modernity has afflicted us with.

In short, this is a book that Christians should be familiar with. Pastors should have extra copies to give away. It would be a good book to study in a small group from time to time. This will likely be the best and most useful new book I encounter this year.

For many, On Getting Out of Bed may make the difference between choosing to continue and not. That is a big claim, but I believe it to be true. I believe time will show my claim to be correct.

NOTE: I received a gratis, advanced reader copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review. Quotes were taken from that volume.

Quit - A Review

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Quitters never win and winners never quit.

At least, that’s what I’ve heard many times so far in my middle-aged existence.

Many of the cultural myths that we celebrate tell the stories of underdogs who didn’t quit when they were up against unthinkable odds and someone came through. Stories like Rudy light up our collective imaginations as we see the little guy, too dumb to go to Notre Dame and too small to get onto the field of play, fight his way through practice for years until he finally gets a moment on the field. All of that happened because he did not quit.

It's a good story. Anyone who can watch Rudy and not get excited has a heart two sizes too small.

But that story is a one in a million. It’s a beautiful story. It’s romantic. It also only accounts for a tiny piece of Rudy’s own story, or the thousands of different ways that his story could have ended had he chosen just a little differently. Those might not have ended up on the big screen, but we have no idea what his energy and effort could have led to in an alternate universe where he didn’t invest so much of himself into being a mediocre college football player.

The point isn’t the Rudy Ruettiger story, though. The point is that we have made it a sign of weakness to recognize that we are going the wrong way, pursuing the wrong dream, and that the best course of action is to turn around. That’s what quitting can be. It can be deciding to go a different way.

What if sometimes the quitting is the best way to make progress in life?

Annie Duke’s recent book, Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away, is about looking at quitting in a different way and recognizing that sometimes it is really the best choice available.

Duke was once a professional poker player. She recognizes, as Kenny Rogers used to sing, “You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.” One of the basic skills every poker player needs to have is recognizing when the odds are stacking against you and folding the hand. Quit is really about learning to recognize when it is time to step away from a hand so that you can play another hand. It’s about learning when to quit.

Of course, the assumption Duke makes is that the sort of people who are reading her book are people that are going to quit one activity to go start another. A professional athlete might retire because his joints are creaky and he can’t run as fast, but generally the competitive drive that got them to the peak of their sport pushes them to strive in another area. Duke’s book is for the sort of person that is going to attack the next goal, at which they might have a better chance of succeeding.

Quit falls into the category of a lot of other self-help, productivity, and organizational psychology book. Duke is a popularizer who cites studies performed by others, but communicates them in a way that is easily accessible and more helpful than a peer reviewed article with a bunch of tables. There are citations of Daniel Kahneman, Richard Thaler, and some of the other usual subjects. This is an airplane book. It takes a few hours to read, can be put down and picked up with ease, and offers some self-improvement along the way.

One of the deep flaws of this book is that the motivations behind sticking to it or quitting are shallow and instrumental. It’s all about money and self-fulfillment. Given that, it’s not surprising that Duke recommends her decision making for divorce in cases where a spouse isn’t helping someone achieve their full potential. There is little room for duty and integrity in this book. It’s all about my happiness and my success.

At the same time, the thought process behind decision making can be helpful for an individual or organization that is stuck in a rut. There are too many church programs that persist for years after the people that drove them are gone or their purpose is being efficiently fulfilled. Sometimes we need to cut our losses in a ministry and move on to something that fits better with the current need or the current members of the congregation.

Taken with a grain of salt, there is a chunk of good advice in this popular-level book. Sometimes we need to put our heads down and keep pushing forward. But we also need to recognize that when we do that, we are giving up opportunities for something else. Sometimes we need to look at other opportunities and recognize they provide a better return on the investment of our time. Efficiency and success isn’t the only thing that matters, but sometimes it does matter. Sometimes we need to know when to quit.

The Life We're Looking For - A Review

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As we navigate modernity, sometimes it is hard to know what we are looking for. What is it that we are seeking?

Andy Crouch pursues that question in his recent book, The Life We’re Looking For: Reclaiming Relationship in a Technological World.

Crouch, who was a one-time editor-in-chief of Christianity Today, has dealt with the question of technology previously, particularly in his helpful Tech-Wise Family and alongside his daughter in My Tech-Wise Life.  The latest volume builds on the earlier research, but moves beyond it to consider more broadly what sort of culture, environment, and general shape of the world humans naturally seek.

The book begins by outlining many of the reasons why we are unsettled. Crouch notes loneliness, isolation, and a radical shift from the way of life that humanity has existed in for millennia. We have become largely anonymous. Ironically, in a world where there is very little privacy, we are truly known by very few people. One of the negative results of a great deal of technology has been the loss of dependence of people on one another. According to Crouch, we have traded in our personhood for power.

The list of ways that humans have acquired power includes the “magic” of technology, the use of money instead of relying on bartering and personal exchange, and artificial intelligence. The basic theme here is that humans have chosen technique and technology to substitute for what were, at one point, interactions that required direct human to human contact.

There are distinct advantages to much of technology. The human physical condition is, measured objectively, drastically improved from prior to the Industrial Revolution. However, amidst the cheers for technologies’ progress, we have become alienated from each other and from the world, at least to some degree. In many cases, the sense of alienation has taken generations to accumulate, but appears to be advancing rapidly in the last few decades, especially since the lightspeed changes of the computer revolution.

The end of Crouch’s book is  a plea to regain our sense of shared humanity, with an emphasis on some simple steps that can make the world more personal. This mostly has to do with recognizing that while technology may relieve a particular burden, it also often takes away opportunities and requires additional duties. Establishment of written language has, for example, greatly improved the ability to share stories, but it has also cause human memory patterns to change, so that our cultures no longer require us to learn, recall, and retell stories that have passed on to us by word of mouth. Now we have to write things down to remember them. There are unquestionable benefits, but significant losses, as well.

The crux of Crouch’s book is that Christians, especially, should be pursuing a deeper understanding of personhood. He notes the instance at the end of Paul’s letter to the Romans, where amidst the greetings from Timothy, Tertius the scribe, and Gaius the guy who hosts the church, there is a greeting from “our brother Quartus.” (Rom 16:23) He’s such a nobody that he was known as “the fourth,” as in the fourth son. No real name to speak of, not title. Just “our brother Quartus.” It’s easy to forget sometimes that Christianity came from such humble roots that a no name could be a someone in the middle of the church. That’s what Crouch calls the Christians back to in the midst of this modern age.

The Life We’re Looking For is a quick read. It’s easily digestible and the sort of text that would be good to put in the hands of someone overwhelmed by the weight of the world and attempts to navigate through it.

Crouch’s program of calling readers to consider the tradeoffs of technology is good, though I do think at points (as with the existence of money), he underestimates the benefit of having a basically universally acceptable medium of exchange—it does reduce the need for personal relationship, but it also ensures those on the lower end of the spectrum get access to markets and services. It may be that Crouch is overly negative to compensate for the positivity of many who see some of the advantages of technology. However, at the end of the day, Crouch makes readers think and really consider their positions well.