The Children of the Last Men: Nihilism and World-Loss

This was originally going to be part of a much longer piece which never really went anywhere (which is partially to blame for the unofficial hiatus...though that was more due to an onset of lethargy). So, have a piece about P.D. James' novel The Children of Men and the Alfonso Cuaron film adaptation of it. Health warning: this is long and opinionated. 

I will, as ever, assume at least a passing familiarity with the novel and/or the film from the reader. If you want to refresh your memory, or fill it up in the first place, Wikipedia provides (here and here), as it ever does. Obviously, here be spoilers.

I

Preamble

The Children of Men is a conservative novel. More than that, it is a conservative, Christian novel, by a writer who is both an Anglican and a Conservative life-peer. Still here? Good. I thought I'd get the awkwardness out of the way.

To say that it is 'conservative' isn't to say that it has a political agenda, per se. It is, rather, a conservative reaction (don't worry, it isn't those guys again) to the perceived nihilism of the modern age. It becomes all the more interesting in comparison with Cuaron's harrowing and moving adaptation of the novel, which James was reportedly pleased with. The film is more overtly political than the novel, and very obviously leans towards the left, but not to the detriment of having a clear moral centre which will appeal to conservative and progressive alike (at least, it appealed to both my conservative and progressive sides, so...). Like the novel, the film doesn't have an overt political agenda, and like the novel, it is not sympathetic to those for whom politics (or, rather, the politics of Great Deeds) trumps morality. Indeed, there is little real difference between the insurrectionaries seeking to use the pregnancy for political ends and the government they're fighting. 

This isn't going to be a point-by-point comparison between the film and the novel, as that wouldn't be fun to write, and would be even less fun to read. Rather, I'm going to draw on the film and the novel's imagery and themes as I deem appropriate. A few changes and similarities are worth noting, though. Both have main characters named Theo with cousins in position of office. They are both emotionally involved with a woman called Julian. Britain has moved towards totalitarianism. Both stories carry a great deal of Christian symbolism. The major differences are that Theo's cousin in the novel, Xan Lyppiatt, is the country's 'benevolent' dictator, the 'Warden of England,' while in the film his cousin is head of a project that is rescuing the world's art treasures. The infertility crisis has affected women, rather than men, as is the case in the novel. The novel also takes place on a much smaller scale than the film, having a more provincial flair to it. Interestingly, the despotism of the novel is of a noticeably 'softer' variety than the overt quasi-Fascism of the film. But, a lot of this we can put down to the differences between cinema and the novel as mediums. 

Although his occupation and background has changed, Theo is largely the same in both film and book. Disaffected, uninterested, somewhat selfish. It comes across more in the book, largely because of James's narrative voice, that Theo is a man who has run away from every responsibility he has ever had. His failed marriage, his position on the Council, his attempts to distance himself from the Fishes at every opportunity. And, like the Theo of the film, he only comes alive as a person when he does start to take responsibility for his life, his actions and surroundings. It is an ethical awakening, ultimately, a moral one, rather than an heroic Nietzschean awakening (we'll be coming back to dear old Friedrich in a little while, however); it is his recognition of his greater moral role, his duty, his transcendental duty to the Other and to humanity, to the world (to God?) that gives him vigour and vitality.

The Christian voice of the novel is quite explicit: the father of the child (in the novel, it is men who infertile, while the film has it that it is women- I don't think that one should look too closely into this difference, it is more a plot device than anything else) is a priest of a distinctly 'old school' High Church tradition, the mother is an avowed Christian, the story ends with Theo drawing the Sign of the Cross onto the baby's forehead. There are a plethora of cults and sects in both book and film, though both glides over them without much interaction of exposition. Interestingly, the film's cults are of a much darker, self-denying spirit than the book's 'wishy-washy', neo-hippie hedonist movements, but I risk going off on a tangent. The film's religious symbolism is much broader (including several nods towards Eastern religion), though the essential Christianity of its symbolism remains obvious. The focus on the mother of the child (who is, very literally, the hope of the world), of course, ties in with the tradition of Marian veneration. Their refugee status harks, perhaps, to the flight of the Holy Family from Herod into Egypt. The birth of the baby into poverty and chaos reinforces this.

Interestingly, in the film there are several references to the phrase 'Shantih Shantih Shantih,' a Hindu prayer for peace that comes at the end of a ritual, lesson or scripture. Importantly, it appears on screen during the end-credits, suggesting the film itself is a kind of ritual re-telling of the sorrows of the world, a celluloid prayer of sorts. What is more, 'Shantih Shantih Shantih' is used at the end of T.S. Eliot's mournful masterpiece The Waste Land, a disturbing image of Western society after the calamity of the First World War (in my reading, at any rate). I can see this post wandering still further into a general discussion of 'themes' and 'imagery,' so I might as well use this as a jumping-off point for the main idea I want to discuss, which is nihilism.

II

Welcome to the Desert of the Now

Both the film and the novel deal with the (at least, perceived) nihilism of modernity. Žižek sums it up nicely in this short clip. What both film and novel deal with is the loss of roots, of tradition and history. For the novel, it is the loss of the Christian tradition in particular that is traumatic, but the film opens the field, makes it global, a true 'world' loss. In neither novel nor film is an explanation for the infertility crisis given, only speculation. This maybe partly to do with avoiding distracting exposition, but I feel that it is linked with the general theme of forgetting one's past, losing one's world. The loss is so total that even the nature of the loss is shadowy at best.

But what does it mean to discuss a loss of tradition, of roots and history? It must be remembered that capitalism is the great innovator and renovator, the re-shaper, the destroy of boundaries and territories. It does, of course, create new boundaries and territories (for Deleuze and Guattari, it creates the nation-state and the 'Oedipal' family), but only at the loss of the old ones, the old certainties, and what it offers us in return is an ambiguous gift to say the least (social atomisation, alienation, uncertainty and all the other irritatingly accurate Marxian critiques). With the loss of the old certainties, it is no longer obvious what to strive for and how to do it. This is where it becomes appropriate to bring in Nietzsche.

"God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?" 

The death of God, the opening of possibilities for new forms of relationship, new edifices of value, is a shocking, disconcerting one. The ontological horizon crashes away and we no longer know what it is we stand upon. We loose the traditions of our ancestors, and find ourselves (very literally in the case of Children of Men) unable to pass any such thing along to our descendants, as our world has so little solidity to it. We have become, so suggests the film and novel, Nietzsche's Last Men:

  

"Lo! I show you THE LAST MAN.

'What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?'—so asketh the last man and blinketh. The earth hath then become small, and on it there hoppeth the last man who maketh everything small. His species is ineradicable like that of the ground-flea; the last man liveth longest.

'We have discovered happiness'—say the last men, and blink thereby. They have left the regions where it is hard to live; for they need warmth. One still loveth one's neighbour and rubbeth against him; for one needeth warmth. Turning ill and being distrustful, they consider sinful: they walk warily. He is a fool who still stumbleth over stones or men!

A little poison now and then: that maketh pleasant dreams. And much poison at last for a pleasant death. One still worketh, for work is a pastime. But one is careful lest the pastime should hurt one. One no longer becometh poor or rich; both are too burdensome. Who still wanteth to rule? Who still wanteth to obey? Both are too burdensome. No shepherd, and one herd! Every one wanteth the same; every one is equal: he who hath other sentiments goeth voluntarily into the madhouse. "Formerly all the world was insane,"—say the subtlest of them, and blink thereby. They are clever and know all that hath happened: so there is no end to their raillery. People still fall out, but are soon reconciled—otherwise it spoileth their stomachs. They have their little pleasures for the day, and their little pleasures for the night, but they have a regard for health.

'We have discovered happiness,'—say the last men, and blink thereby.—" 

The Last Men are mediocre, unimpressive, believing themselves to have already achieved everything worthwhile. They have little but scorn for the past, and dismiss its values as mere fancies and follies. A phrase used in the novel: 'comfort, security, pleasure.' This is what Britain wants after the infertility crisis has shattered the world. To be given somewhere warm to sleep, in the hope of not waking up. The elderly are encouraged to commit suicide in perversely sentimental rituals dubbed The Quietus; with the accompaniment of familiar songs and the hymn 'Abide With Me,' the (drugged up to the eyeballs) elderly, dressed in white and carrying flowers, are quietly euthanised on a barge which is then left to sink... Oddly, it was these horrible moments of forced sentimentality (women using dolls as surrogate children, blasphemous 'christenings' for animals) that I found the most overtly disturbing in the novel. The film makes use of it too, but not as much. In the opening scene, we hear the announcement of the death of the world's youngest person, the obscenely named 'Baby' Diego, accompanied by soft music oozing with sentiment. The world of The Last Men is awash with sentiment, rather than feeling...

III

What is to be done?

Go forward. Go back. Those are the only two directions open to us in the world of The Last Men: either, we try and go beyond them (dreams of the Übermensch), or we try and go back to what we had before. Discovery, or re-discovery. It is not clear which of these two options is the more accessible one, or even the preferable one. Certainly, there is much now lacking which once we had, but an attempt to abort modernity and simply return to 'how things used to be' is a childish dream; as attractive as it might indeed be, one wilfully forgets the perversities and pathologies of the past that much of the drive to modernity was an attempt to replace. Indeed, if you'll forgive me for paraphrasing Moldbug: Cthulhu swims left. That is, it seems doubtful that we could go back, even if we wanted to.

James's novel certainly wants a return to the past, a re-discovery of sorts. Perhaps that felt more likely before the Millennium, and the new (that is, return of the old) conflicts it brought. The film is more ambiguous. 

 Žižek rightly observes that the film ends with the protagonists both literally and symbolically cutting their few remaining roots and forging ahead in a new direction, but it does still take time to observe the customs of the past. The most moving scene for me was a very short one, where an old Russian woman sings a song and plays with Kee's baby, as the camera pans around the room, showing us Icons of Orthodox saints, and images of Lenin. That is what I mean when I talk about handing down tradition, from the ancestors to our descendants: history, stories, songs and pictures. Meaningful things that, their 'truth' regardless, at least deserve to be remembered because they mattered to us. There are other, less sympathetic attempts to restore the past in the film, in particular the 'Ark of the Arts,' a project that 'rescues' works of art from around the world and stores them, far away from the public eye. All this project is doing is lifting out these artefacts from the worlds they occurred in, removing them from their context and keeping them from revealing themselves and their world to us, thus, in a way, destroying what it was that made them 'art' in the first place. All it does is create hollow facsimiles of tradition, forgetting that a tradition is only real if it is lived. 

But if all we now have of those traditions is the facsimile, the simulation of a tradition rather than a real, living, growing, organic tradition, then perhaps the only option that is left open to us is to go forward, to forge ahead and try to create new traditions, find new worlds, new stories to tell. It may be that we have to loose what is left of our world in order to re-discover what it was that made it worth keeping in the first place.

Difficult Conversations

A few weeks ago, I was talking to a friend about this. During our conversation, I used the expression 'people of colour,' because, as a Tumblr user, I assumed that this was now universally considered to be the acceptable turn of phrase when talking about people who aren't white. My friend, who is mixed race, very politely and with no aggression said that he didn't consider this to be an appropriate expression. I apologised, and the conversation continued as it did before. There was one difference, though, and that was my white-guilt was doing veritable back-flips, and I still feel sufficiently embarrassed and ashamed by the episode that I had to go and get my friend's permission before using this anecdote (Hey there!).

What's interesting about this, I think, is that it demonstrates what happens when you let a discussion about real-world problems (race, gender, sexual orientation etc.) become abstracted from the people who are actually directly affected by it. The discussion becomes rarefied, academic, becomes more about scoring points than anything else. Another example: when talking to a friend, who eventually came out as trans, about gender identity, I was quoting an article I'd read which challenged the right of an individual to decide upon their own gender identity from a 'collectivist' stand-point, thinking myself to be very clever. My friend countered this with the following: 'You shouldn't have to be able to write a Ph.D. on gender theory to justify how you identify.'

(Now I think of it, most people I know who take issue with gender-transition don't tend to have any trans friends...I wonder which way the causal link goes, there...)

My friend's frustration was entirely justified. It is one thing to pontificate about gender-transition and race-relations, and another to actually have to go through gender-transition, or find oneself the target of racial discrimination; I have never had to experience either of these things. The point I am trying to make is: there must be some level of caution and sensitivity when we are discussing these issues, because, frankly, it's right to be cautious and sensitive. There are real people behind these examples, who are the subjects of these theories, people to whom with have an ethical obligation of some kind or another. That must always be retained, even if only for the case of simple manners.

...however...

This is quite a big 'however.' We must guard against it straying to far in the other direction, that is, that we become afraid to discuss these issues for fear of stepping on someone's toes. Because there are always people who are willing to talk about these issues, which are genuinely very important, but they don't tend to be the nice guys. Ethnicity does matter, it does effect social cohesion and how societies function. Race does bring up problems. These aren't pleasant truths, but they are true all the same. But, these problems are not insurmountable by any means. There's no reason at all while different ethnic and cultural groups can't live in at least relative harmony, as long as we do confront the problems that will inevitably arise in these relationships- all human relationships bring up problems. If, however, the only people who are addressing social problems connected to the interactions between different ethnic and cultural groups are radicals of one side or the other, then only their voice is being heard, and it is a voice that tends to only utter variations of 'Send them HOME!', or blindly insist that all we want to do is 'get along,' and refuses to acknowledge that there is even a problem at all.

The triumph and curse of democracy is that it allows a plurality of sentiment and thought to be expressed. This allows us to challenge views that we disagree with, and this is a right that we must never be afraid of using. I have written before about the importance of having more than one opinion being expressed in an open society, and we must make it our duty to ensure that we are able to respond to voices that challenge what is right. Ultimately, this must be done because our words and our theories do effect the people we are discussing, the people whose lives we are debating about.

As such, though we must beware of allowing the discussion to loose its connection with the lives of real people, we must never be afraid of having the discussion, because concepts and nomenclature do matter: there has to be a connection between theoria and praxis. We must be unafraid of having difficult conversations about difficult issues, because our opponents are certainly not afraid of having these conversations, and their conclusions are not appealing...

Update: how NOT to have this conversation...(CW: racial slurs) 

What's with you and Neoreaction? No, seriously...

This exists. I approve. 

In which I answer the questions none of you were wondering

So, what is it with me and Neoreaction? Well, I'm going to steal Scott Alexander's idea and explain this through the format of an FAQ.

What is this Neoreaction thing?

Return to start.

How did you come across this? You must be into some really weird stuff...

Yeah, I'm into some weird stuff. I watch weird movies, listen to weird music, read weird books and spend time with weird people. You'd probably figured this out by now.

I came to this through the weird stuff I read, namely Nick Land.

Some background: my degree is in philosophy. Land isn't someone I've ever studied academically, and I was introduced to his works by a graduate friend who's my go-to when it comes to French philosophy post the existentialists. I won't bore you with too many autobiographical details, suffice to say that we were talking one day and he mentioned this infamous, crazed former academic who got very into Deleuze, Guattari and cybernetics. I looked the fellow up and bought this collection, and became fascinated by him. A little while later, he mentioned to me what Land's ended up doing: The Dark Enlightenment. I investigated further.

From there on in, I was hooked.

Hooked?

Interested in, engrossed by, suckered into. Yep, 'hooked.'

But isn't Neoreaction just racist, homophobic, quasi-Fascist, misogynistic and utterly unrealistic?

All of those things are to be found within Neoreaction, certainly, but it isn't accurately reducible to any one of those things. But this isn't so much about Neoreaction as why I'm interested in it.

Are you racist, homophobic, quasi-Fascist, misogynistic and utterly unrealistic?

No, no, only when I'm very pissed off, no, yes.

So...are you a Neoreactionary?

No. My politics are actually very dull. I'm best described as a pragmatic Leftist, somewhere between being a right-leaning Social Democrat and a left-leaning One Nation Tory. I like freedom, feminism and equality of opportunity, but I also like stability, community and tradition. I've started to identify with some elements of Rightist nomenclature largely out of frustration with the Left, more than anything else.

Then why are you so taken with Neoreaction?

Partly, it's because I'm interested in anything and everything that's odd and out-of-step with the modern world. There's something deeply fascinating about people who think that what we need is less democracy, rather than more, seeing what a heretical idea that is to have.

Partly, it's Nick Land personally. I find the guy immensely interesting and challenging, and even though he's espousing views I disagree with, he does it very well.

Mostly it's because...I get it. I get where they're coming from. When one looks at the world we've made for ourselves, the Modern world, with all its neuroses and pathologies and perversions, one can understandably and, to an extent justifiably say that: we have lost something important. It does make some sense to suggest that there might have been something about how traditional societies worked that was better than how our current societies do. Perhaps, we ought to try and reclaim whatever that thing was.

I sympathise, by Gnon's claws, I sympathise. But, they are wrong. The Modern world has plenty of neuroses and pathologies and perversions...but there is so much that is grand and bold and daring about it as well. They are right, entirely right, to take Nietzsche's hammer to our idols: democracy, egalitarianism, universalism, to see if they ring hollow or not. We need people like that. It's healthy for a society to have people who do that, who challenge and question it. And, to their credit, Neoreaction is unafraid of challenging our most sacred ideals. And thank Gnon for it! After the end of the Cold War, it looked as if that most dull of systems, democracy, had won. It's not good for an idea to have no challengers, it leads to stagnation. Having the Neoreactionaries, dressed in their waistcoats, courtly gowns and cyber-gear, hurling conceptual Molotov cocktails at the ballot box is a vital addition to our society, as it is a call to arms to defend it. The challenge that they issue is one that can be faced down, and we will be stronger and more passionate about our ideals for it. Besides, I think they're right about the arrogance with which we assume that history has reached a kind of apex with our particular way of arranging a society. There's a lot to learn from our past, and we'd be wrong to dismiss all the insights of tradition just because they're 'old fashioned.'

As well as that, there's always the possibility that they are right and everyone else wrong. It would be a real buggery if it were to turn out that Neoreaction had noticed something that we of the Cathedral had fail to notice, and had spent time considering what such a thing meant.

Take Human Biodiversity. What if it were to be proved that race does matter? What if there was irrefutable evidence that there are real, significant, inherited differences between ethnic groups, with repercussions about how we organise a society? If that were to be proved true, it would surely be very bloody handy to have people who have seriously considered the political ramifications of such an eventuality available to deliberate with!

The final reason I shall mention here is: I share their fears.

I fear that Western society has evolved in such a direction that it is not equipped to deal with the challenges that await it. These challenges include the rise of radical Islamism, which is starting to suggest that it might very well be capable of creating a society entirely at odds with our value system; the growing threat of fourth-generational warfare; the challenges proposed by Russia and, in particular, China, countries that are showing the West that our way of doing things is not the only way, for better or for worse...

Are you going to start writing about things other than Neoreaction now?

Yes, but that's not going to stop my Reports on the Reactosphere.

So, what else can we look forward to?

My thoughts on The Difference Engine by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling, and some pseudo-DeleuzoGuttarian guff about Hellraiser. And perhaps something on Richard Dawkins latest outrage-inducing proclamations.

Huh. Cool.

Thanks, I thought so as well.

Reports on the Reactosphere # 3: Enter the lolcatz

The view from the edge of the Cathedral suddenly looses its intellectual pretensions for a post...

I found these today.

This seems to be an Anissimovian cat

That is all.

What is Neoreaction? An Amateur Speculates

Content Warning: I claim no responsibility for the content of anything I've linked to here. There are some real nasty folk and ideas within Neoreaction, so you should brace yourself for racism, sexism, homophobia, class-prejudice, and a lot more besides, though I do hope that won't put you off reading what I've written about these subjects. Further, I might as well confirm what I hope is already implied: I am describing a political, economic and cultural view point in this post. That does not make it my viewpoint. I am describing it because it interests me, not because I believe it. My next post here will be on exactly why I'm interested in them (hopefully). 

UPDATE: Since the writing of this, More Right has come back to life. I will, at some point, come back to this post and include some relevant links to it. I emphasise: '...at some point...'

Further, some of the stuff I've said about neocameralism isn't exactly as accurate as I thought it was (in my defence, only a couple of specific details) when I wrote it. I'll update this post properly soon, as it's one of my most popular, and I'll keep this header for the sake of intellectual honesty. 

Hail Gnon...

What is Neoreaction (NRx)?

I can give you two answers, a long answer and a short answer.

The short answer: An ancient, 'evil' cult that worships the terrible, eternal, Great Crab God Gnon.

The long answer (which will be the rest of this post):

It is not accurate to say that anyone 'invented' or 'founded' NRx, as a lot of its core ideals have, arguably, been floating around since Plato and Aristotle. Instead, I prefer to say that it was 'catalysed,' brought to its current state of fruition, by Mencius Moldbug. Now, I will be upfront: I am not that familiar with Moldbug's work, for a very good reason: though very readable, engaging, literate and witty, he is extraordinarily long-winded and has been very, very prolific. So, forgive me if I come across as a little vague; if I make any glaring errors, please correct me in the comments. Moldbug did several things (his main phase of writing seems to have finally come to an end), as far as I can tell: he engaged in a project of cladistic-memetics, via which he sought to diagnose the problems of modernity, and proposed solutions to these problems. Perhaps 'cladistic-memetics' isn't a helpful turn of phrase- he engaged in a history of ideas, in which he treats ideas as 'memes', tracing them back to their common points of origin, divergence, convergence, success, failure and so forth... He also, perhaps not entirely inadvertently, re-invigorated the intellectual Far-Right online. This isn't to say that there haven't been Far-Right intellectuals around saying interesting things (note: 'interesting' doesn't equal 'correct' or even 'sympathetic' for this blog), far from it, but Moldbug's influence in kicking off discussion on a large scale has been enormous.

Things, however, got even more interesting when the controversial, British philosopher Nick Land emerged out of relative post-academic obscurity and wrote a long essay, drawing extensively upon Moldbug, entitled The Dark Enlightenment, in which he continues the diagnosis of what's gone wrong, why it's gone wrong, and suggests what we can do about it. It's been a while since I've read The Dark Enlightenment, and it will be a while longer before I go back to it, but I must admit it is an impressive and troubling read. Land has since become one of the main ideologues of NRx, and his blog is actually just a really interesting thing to read, regardless of political affiliation. NRx is a far bigger thing than I have the time or energy to explore fully, and I am well aware that there are major blogs which I don't keep up with, but Land does seem to have his finger on the pulse. Other major contributors include Michael Anissimov (the group-blog he writes on has been down for a few days now, so you'll have to make-do with a link to his Twitter for the time being), the wonderfully named Anarcho-Papist and a veritable host of others you can peruse here and here.

NRx posits itself as being opposed to the Cathedral. The Cathedral is the name that Moldbug gave to the memetic edifice, or memeplex, that is 'Modernity.' It includes government, media, religion, education and popular opinion. It is not a conspiracy theory, however. We are not straying into Illuminati territory here. Rather, the Cathedral is more like a vast, ideological feedback loop, generating and receiving the same set of assumptions over and and over again, insisting in viewing the world solely through its own lens. It is principally characterised by three strands of thought: demotism, egalitarianism and universalism.

'Demotism' needs some explanation: demotism is government 'of the people, by the people, for the people.' Not necessarily democracies as we would recognise them, but any government of and by the masses (NRx include both Soviet Socialism and National-Socialism, along with modern liberal democracy, in the 'demotic' camp. They do this wrongly). Egalitarianism speaks for itself, the belief that people are fundamentally equal, or at least ought to be treated as equals by the law. Universalism is a little more interesting: it is the belief that there is only One right way of doing things, and this applies to Everyone. The universalist ideology of the modern age is, of course, egalitarian liberal democracy with a capitalist economy. This is the right fit for every society, for every human population across the world. The various ill-advised adventures that America has embarked on in the Middle East for the sake of 'freedom' are all examples of attempts to enforce the agenda of universalism, and the general failures of these projects to secure stable, Western style democracies is an example of the failure of that same agenda (for NRx). The same can be said of the Arab Spring. They don't like revolutions...

This connects neatly with the problems of egalitarianism. For NRx, it's simply demonstrably untrue that human beings are equal in any meaningful sense of the word. Rather, they advocate 'Human Biodiversity,' or HBD. HBD holds that there is significant cognitive diversity among human beings, and that this is partly due to heredity, and there is an extent to which this manifests (or at least can be mapped) along ethnic lines. HBD, for some Neoreactionaries, is as an excuse to confirm unjustifiable racial prejudices that they already held. Others have a more subtle view upon it, and one could argue that all HBD is, is a call to take genetics seriously as a factor in macro-scale social phenomena, or at least a potential factor. When it's presented by the more cool-headed, it becomes less about a racial hierarchy and more about an attempt at a 'realistic' mapping of diverse human behaviour and organisation, and pushing for a genetic, as well as a cultural, basis for these different forms of living. As such, the NRx rejection of universalism should now be cast in a clearer light: not all 'types' of human are equipped to live in a society that functions like a democracy, some just need to be guided and guarded, or some just need to be allowed to emphasis tribe and family over other concerns.

By why reject democracy so out of hand? Because, they argue, in a democracy there is no reason for the currently elected 'board of directors' to prioritise the continued well-being of the polity after they have been removed from power. Rather, their priority is to maximise short-term, personal gain for themselves and their bedfellows, at the expense of the long-term interests of the polity as a whole. If, instead, it were to be in their interests to continue to maximise governmental efficiency in the long run, rather than stealing everything that isn't nailed down and running off, they would do that (or be more likely to do that). However, this would require the board to be in a position of unchallenged power for a considerable length of time, conceivably even their (working)life time. This is, of course, completely at odds with democracy. In a democracy, the board won't give a damn about the polity beyond winning the next election, unless they are particularly driven by ideological concerns, which is something rarely seen these days (and even then, they still need to win the next election anyway). If, however, things were to be organised differently, where the interests of those in charge are directly tied into the long-term stability and prosperity of a polity and its citizens, things would be a lot better. Land recently provided a nice summary of this idea.

I might as well use this as a place to introduce 'Gnon.' I love Gnon. I really, really love Gnon. Gnon is a great metaphorical concept. Gnon is the God of Uncomfortable Truths. Gnon is the Ruler of the Universe, whose word is iron law. Gnon is reality, Gnon is. Gnon is why the Cathedral can't stand forever, because it breaks the Law of Gnon, laws like: 'Don't do Communism. If you do Communism, I will hurt you. I will keep hurting you until you stop doing Communism. I AM GNON.' and 'Don't ignore HBD. If you do ignore HBD, I will hurt you. I will keep hurting you until you accept HBD. I AM GNON.' You get the idea. All of the nice ideas the Cathedral gives us (demotism, egalitarianism, universalism and so forth) can't work because they break Gnon's laws, and bring (His? Its?) wrath down upon us. That little fable of mine should now make some kind of sense...

This is why I called NRx the Cult of Gnon above. NRx often talk about themselves as servants of Gnon, meaning that they are simply being realists. They're rejection of the Cathedral comes on purely pragmatic grounds: it doesn't work, the Cathedral isn't sustainable. If we carry on insisting on living within the Cathedrals strictures, rather than honouring Gnon by being obedient to Gnon's laws, we will have to face the consequences.

Oh, I can't resist linking this here, if you want to learn more about the ways of Gnon, and why a lot of what NRx says about Gnon is up for more debate than they might like to think.

Anyway, I fear that this post has already stretched on a fair distance, so I will endeavour to bring it to a close as soon as I can.

What, then, does NRx want?

Well, there's no one answer to that, which is inevitable considering that they reject universalism. Different groups prioritise different things. What does unify them, though, is a desire for order and stability, which is taken to be synonymous with liberty. Liberty is freedom from chaos and danger, and what NRx wants is the development of societies that will be stable because they honour Gnon.

For some Neoreactionaries, the most important things that need to be emphasised for stability are tradition and ethno-nationalism. The traditions in question tend to be religious, often specifically Catholic, though they can also include secular or pagan traditions. The ethno-nationalism is variably due to a perceived pragmatism (mono-ethnic communities won't have internal ethnic conflict, so now we've one less thing to worry about) or old fashioned racism, or HBD, or all three. The traditionalism is also generally either perceived as pragmatic (a society that emphasises a shared tradition is more likely to be stable than one with various, competing traditions), but some of them, at least, are genuine believers in the Truth of these traditions.

Anyway, the sub-groups mentioned above tend to, though this isn't universally true, be of the Monarchical or neo-feudal bent. They want to see the return of 'traditional' pre-Enlightenment societies that emphasise hierarchy, monarchy and organicism. Now, they're honest: they admit that bringing back absolute monarchy won't solve all our problems (!), but they're confident that it will solve a good few of them. Generally, they want to see mono-ethnic, mono-cultural societies that emphasise the traditional marriage, traditional gender roles, traditional family life and are often suspicious of technology, or at least unregulated technology, as this will lead to order and stability, and thus liberty. Typically, they are people who have entered into the Reactosphere from a conservative trajectory.

To be honest, they don't interest me that much.

The interesting ones are the neocameralists...

The neocameralists are much closer to Moldbug than the monarchists are, some of whom have explicitly thrown out neocameralist ideas (I can't provide you with the link I'd like to here, because it's from the site that I mentioned above when referring to Michael Anissimov, which is still down). They tend to arrive at NRx from libertarianism. The neo-feudalists agree with the diagnosis of the problem, but not the solution offered; yes, we do need people in charge who have a long-term interest in looking after the polity, and what better way of doing this than re-instating hereditary aristocracy and monarchy? Well, Moldbug's idea is to transform the government into a private-interest corporation which will then run the country for a profit, with a board of executives who are selected by the shareholders, who head an administration picked by merit (obviously, there will be nepotism, but there's plenty of nepotism in democratic governments anyway- so long as it doesn't interfere with productivity, who cares if the CEO's son is her secretary?). Moldbug observes that 'A well-run state is very profitable.' A stable and prosperous corporate state will attract both business investors and customers (citizens), who will presumably pay something analogous to tax. If they're not happy with the goods and services provided by GovCorp, they're free to leave and take their custom elsewhere (the right to Exit over Voice, that is, interaction with the politics and management of the state, is a big deal for NRx of this inclination). What is envisaged is a patchwork of corporate states, competing for customers by offering them different services and ways of life, probably on the scale of city-states. Want to live somewhere explicitly LGBT-positive? Move to San Francisco, Inc., or Brighton & Hove, Ltd., and so forth.

Rather than the old-school nationalism+HBD of the neo-feudal current, neocameralism favours a selective immigration policy, screening potential citizen-customers for desirable traits, high-IQ in particular, as a kind of 'first-generation eugenics.' One can only speculate about the variations in policy one would find across the patchwork of NRx states, but given the catastrophic geopolitical conditions that would be needed to dismantle the Cathedral sufficiently to give rise to such a patchwork, it is fair to assume that there would probably be a lot of initial competition before a steady homogeneity is established. Ideally, there wouldn't be any attempt to ideologically impose upon other corporate-states, and states that attempt to do this might find investment trickling away: who wants to fund the guys who might try to conquer you? As long as x leaves y alone, why should y bother them? Hell, perhaps we could trade with them! To quote Old Nick again: 'A movement of communistic localism that successfully pursued a project of radical geopolitical autonomization would be, realistically, a more significant tactical ally than even the most ideologically-pure concrete reactionary movement which spoke a lot about comparable goals, but gave no indication it was able to practically realize them.'

This is the strand of NRx that doesn't seem to get that much media attention, perhaps because the idea of a corporate run state is less 'man bites dog' than restoring a feudal hierarchy. Go figure.

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Don't take any of this as being more than an introduction to Neoreaction. I've deliberately not discussed certain elements and ideas for simplicities sake, the most glaring absence being the stuff on gender, which I have only alluded to. You can, however, get the broad picture of it. If you want to learn more about the ideological strains within NRx, I suggest this post of mine. Another, more detailed analysis of the specifics of NRx can be found here, and a detailed critique here.

'Gnon and the Cathedral, a Lovecraftian fable': Prelude to 'What is Neoreaction?'

Or, the Coming of the Great Crab God...

Once upon a time there lived a big, bad, scary monster named 'Gnon.' Everyone had to worship Gnon, and make sacrifices to Gnon. Human sacrifices. No one liked Gnon, and Gnon liked no one, but as long as the rituals were observed and sacrifices made, Gnon kept its claws out of the lives of its unfortunate worshippers. The people got into the habit of worshipping Gnon, and so Gnon was pleased and did not wreak vengeance upon the people. They kept Gnon's Laws, and things where, mostly, well.

Soon, Gnon declared that he would leave the people for a while, and go and sleep. But, should the worship or sacrifices or lawful obedience cease, Gnon would awake...

But, one day, some people from another place came from over the hills who did not worship Gnon, who did not make sacrifices to Gnon. Indeed, they said that...'Gnon is dead!'

Gnon was not dead. Gnon, content with what worship had been done, what sacrifices had been made, and what Laws had been kept, merely slept.

The influence of those who did not worship Gnon spread more and more. There where still those who observed the old ways, and kept Gnon asleep, but the sleep grew fitful. The numbers of the faithful declined, and the unfaithful built a monument to themselves and the Gnon-free world. They called this monument 'the Cathedral,' and it was a fine thing to behold! It was filled with art and music and vast rooms. Everyone had a say, everyone had all they could eat, and anyone was allowed in, so long as they professed that Gnon was dead. Soon, very few believed in Gnon at all.

The Cathedral grew taller and taller, and the Gnon-believers grew fewer and fewer. The Cathedral reached all the way up to Heaven, and its builders where mighty pleased with themselves. So pleased, that they did not hear the rasping breath from beneath their foundation stones...

They did not notice the cracks spreading into the heart of the Cathedral...

They had not noticed that a few, and only a few, had left the Cathedral's grounds and gone of into the hills, to do things their way...

They barely had time to notice when the Cathedral split asunder up its central tower...

They did not realise that, in their folly, they had built their Cathedral atop the resting place of Gnon!

Reports on the Reactosphere #2: Lines of Demarcation

The view from the edge of the Cathedral...

This is, to an extent, departing from the original programme I had on reporting on what I noticed this week in the Reactosphere. I am, instead, expanding the remit to include general reflections on NRx. This is more on the latter than the former. This being said, this has been a topic of discussion recently, as exampled here, here, here, here (sort of...a little. Maybe.) and here. Same rules as before apply: this is intended for people who are already familiar with NRx. Check out my previous Report for some links to introductory texts if you want to learn more.

Incidentally, Content Warning: the Dugin link below is to a website with some radical-Right content and links.

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I'm tempted to say that there's a fight for the soul of NRx, but that wouldn't be wholly accurate (and not just because I'm hesitant to suggest that the Cult of the Great Crab God has a 'soul'). Such a phrasing would suggest that both sides of the fight equally value the notion of exclusive 'rights' to the name 'NRx,' and really it seems to be a conflict, or tension, or whatever, between those who want NRx to be a clearly and neatly defined club, replete with a 'No x, y and z' sign outside, and those for whom such questions of exclusivity/inclusivity are wrong-headed, unless understood on very purely pragmatic grounds. This isn't to say that it isn't a battle for identity in some sense, but I get the impression the 'identity' (or 'identitarian') aspect of it matters more for one side than it does the other.

By all this, I mean that it seems to be a tension between what Land calls 'Inner' and 'Outer' NRx. In a word: Land vs Anissimov.

I am, of course, radically oversimplifying this conflict. There are all sorts of vectors and currents and matrices and spheres and schools of thought plunging into, brushing past, intersecting, invading, penetrating and rejecting one another within NRx, but one can observe broad trends and directions of thought. Naturally, I will miss subtleties and intricacies, but sometimes it's best to leave the minutiae to one side.

A lot of people who have heard of NRx describe it as being monarchist or neo-feudalist, and leave it there. Others, who are more directly familiar with its origins in Moldbug's thought, will also be aware of its right-libertarian, anarcho-capitalist tendencies: the neocameralists. Roughly speaking, those who want to go back to before the rise of the Cathedral in its present form, and those who want to push beyond the Cathedral's boundaries (note, I do not say push 'forward'). Anissimov is of the former, Land of the latter.

I will here borrow Land's own words: 'For the inner faction, a firmly consolidated core identity if the central ambition...Inner NR-x, as a micro-culture, models itself on a protected state, in which belonging is sacred, and boundaries rigorously policed.

Outer-NRx, defined primarily by Exit, relates itself to what it escapes. It is refuge and periphery, more than a substitute core. It does not ever expect to rule anything at all (above the most microscopic level of social reality, and then under quite different names). The Patchwork is for it a set of options, and opportunities for leverage, rather than a menu of potential homes. It is intrinsically nomad, unsettled, and micro-agitational. Its culture consists of departures it does not regret. (While not remotely globalist, it is unmistakably cosmopolitan — with the understanding that the ‘cosmos’ consists of chances to split.)'

Inner-NRx defines itself by what it is: ethno-nationalist, aristocratic, traditionalist. It is, to use Dugin's terminology, 'Overland,' or 'Hyperborean.' 

Outer-NRx defines itself by what it is not: democratic, egalitarian, universalist. It is 'Maritime,' or 'Atlantean.' 

The reader will have noticed, of course, that neither of these definition stand at odds with one another per se, but in practice they have tended to. They also have much in common. They both broadly agree with what they are opposed to (The Cathedral; 'Modernism'; 'Demotism'- these points are arguably effectively synonymous), and both value the dubious insights of 'Human Biodiversity' (HBD), but tend to depart widely when it comes to application. For an Inner-NRx, HBD entails a form of ethno-nationalism. 'We need to keep them (insert slur of choice) out or Gnon will eat us!' For an Outer-NRx, tribe and thede don't really seem to matter. The 'Them' to be kept out are just those whose heredity is not advantageous, who will drag down GovCorp if they're let in. Their race, understood in the colloquial sense, matters less than their specific genetic characteristics. A clever African with clever African children would likely be as welcome in Singapore, Inc. as a clever white-European or East Asian. Tribalism isn't that useful any more. Gnon doesn't care about your ancestors racial or national identity, but He cares a lot about the state of your gene-pool and how effective your government is...

A good acid-test here is Tunneygate. Justine Tunney is a transwoman (this is relevant) who was previously involved with the Occupy Movement. Then...something happened, and she ended up involved with NRx. Anissimov doesn't like her, and has called on NRx to cut of all contact with her, and I suspect this isn't just because he disapproves of her particular ideas about what NRx is about. I'd agree that, from what I can see, she probably isn't a great spokesperson for the movement, but, and I'm not accusing anyone here of being anything, but...I wouldn't be surprised if it is at least partially because of her gender identity. That doesn't fit in with the homogeneous, Traditionalist society that Anissimov wants. It's bad manners, if nothing else (and it is a lot else) to deliberately refer to a transperson with the pronoun of the gender they are transitioning from. I won't dig back and find the particular Tweet because it was a while ago now (in Twitter terms), but someone finally called Anissimov out on the obvious conceptual dissonance of a transhumanist being transphobic (or, at least, perceived transphobic). This seemed to please Land. Further, he quipped that any insistence on boundaries that cuts off the possibility of talking to interesting people who don't happen to be NRx is 'insane.' 

The Hyperborean/Atlantean distinction is very useful here (please note, that isn't meant to be read as an endorsement of Aleksandr Dugin in the slightest. I'm simply applying a particular conceptual framework that has already been used to map out differences with NRx- call it political chaos magick): the overlanders value politics over economics, which I read as ideological/cultural purity over pragmatics. Conversely, the seafarers reverse this, and value economics over politics, pragmatics over ideological/cultural purity. A nice example of this comes from the first Chaos Patch comments thread, regarding homosexuality and the Techno-Commercialist tolerance thereof: 'Missing out on an Alan Turing would be less than impressively functional.'

Inner-NRx and Outer-NRx both want to escape from the claws of Gnon, which they see as growing steadily closer to raking upon The Cathedral's doors. Outer-NRx is, frankly, the more viable option of the two. That isn't to say that it is particularly likely that the Moldbuggian Patchwork will ever get sown, but a loosely defined, voluntary association of corporate-states seems a helluva lot more plausible than the Holy Roman Empire Mark II.