At the end of one of our discussions,
Scott Bakker concludes, “To say there is no meaning in nature is just to say
there is no meaning in us. The death of God is the death of Man. There is no
objective subject or subjective object.” I’d like to analyze this conclusion, especially
the second of those three sentences, and explore what it means to speak of the
difference between natural reality and the illusions of purpose, normativity,
and the personal self.
Science Undermines Liberalism
Scott’s provocative comparison of the death of God with the
death of the human person should be especially troubling to liberal atheists.
The theist, after all, denies that either of those individuals is dead, but the
liberal atheist is in danger of inconsistency rather than just of being
uninformed. This atheist believes that theologies are fairytales which beguiled
our ancient ancestors but which no longer make sense, that when Europeans woke
up in the modern age, they lost faith in their monotheistic traditions in just
the way that when a child grows up, the adult is no longer interested in
children’s stories. Thus, the fictional character called God died in our
imagination and that’s all God ever was: a fantasy that captivated most people
who ever lived, but that no longer serves as part of a powerful story for those
who understand the importance of modern science. And yet, as John Gray argues
in Black Mass, liberalism borrows its
morality from monotheism. Liberals assume that each person has moral worth,
because he or she is an end rather than a means, an independent individual or
agent rather than another link in a causal chain, and thus a conscious,
autonomous, and rational person rather than merely a machine or an animal.
Liberal institutions like capitalism and democracy assume as
much. Capitalism depends on the assumption not that we’re just narrow-minded
animals seeking our advantage over others, but that we’re rational in seeking
that advantage, which is why capitalism is supposed to leave us not with the
anarchic and chaotic state of nature, but with a merited distribution of goods.
As rational creatures, we plan how best to use our skills to compete and so we
implicitly sign a social contract in which we agree to live by certain rules
that permit private ownership, and so on. Those who most cleverly play by the
rules and put their talents to work earn the most rewards in this system,
assuming the economy lives up to the ideals set out in capitalistic theory. Thus,
the concept of rational self-interest is crucial to this sort of economy, but
what if there are no such things as selves or rationality as they’re commonly
understood? Again, democracy requires that citizens be worthy of
self-governance, by being informed about their representatives and about how
economies and political systems work, so that their votes make sense, and by
being free to pursue happiness so that the voters leave the dreary business of
politics to the professionals. But what if no one’s free and happiness isn’t
ideal, after all, because nothing in nature is really good or bad?
What’s radical, then, about Scott’s attribution of the folk notions
of selfhood to the brain’s native blindness to its inner workings isn’t just
that Scott sets himself in opposition merely to some compromises in academic
philosophy, to a discipline which doesn’t greatly interest most people. No,
Scott’s interpretation of cognitive science conflicts also with the foundations
of liberal, which is to say modern society. If academic philosophy went up in
smoke, there would be no apocalypse, but if liberalism were widely viewed as
bankrupt, there would be no bulwark against right-wing craziness, including
religious fundamentalism, the backlash against science and rationality
themselves. If rightwing or so-called conservative ideologues were to have the
whole floor on which Western societies stand, I believe those ideologues would
bring down modern civilization and we’d be faced with a neo-feudal Dark Age.











