I'm in the middle of Jordan B. Peterson's Maps of Meaning, but also reading Rodney Stark's Why God. Oh, and my book right now to read at the gym is a compendium of Nietzsche's writings.
It's all very exciting because they are all talking about the same thing, only with different sound systems. Strictly speaking, I should not write about them while in the middle of reading them, in media res, just like the great classic myths, like the Iliad and the Odyssey, that all start "in the middle." But hey, if the great story-tellers can start in the middle, why not me?
For instance, this morning in "The Gay Science" Nietzsche was talking about both "heroes" and "chaos." That, of course, is exactly what Jordan Peterson is talking about.
Peterson's premise is that to understand myth and humans you have to understand that non-scientific people have to live in a world of the known and the unknown. At any moment, you may have to deal with an irruption of the unknown into your life, otherwise known as chaos.
Now in our world we think the known world extends all the way out to space, to the solar system, to the galaxy, to other galaxies. We have theories that explain the whole thing. We have a bit of a problem with the Big Bang and dark matter and dark energy and multiverses, but hey, the priests, er, scientists at the temples of knowledge will soon figure out the whole procedure.
Actually, I maintain that, despite all our modern knowledge we still don't have a clue what it is all about, the "meaning of life, the universe, and everything" as Douglas Adams repeats again and again in The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
In fact, even though we don't like to admit it, the whole stuff about the Big Bang, dark matter and dark energy and so forth play pretty close to a creation myth. "In the beginning" there was the big bang, then inflation, then atoms started to form, then stars then galaxies. But here's a funny thing. They say that galaxies do about one revolution in a billion years. So that means that, given the current scientifically determined age of the universe, the galaxies have only made about 13 revolutions since the Dawn of Time.
Know what? I don't think so. I think that in time there will be another theory that replaces the Big Bang. The Big Bang will be consigned to the lumber room as an ancient myth of those superstitious 21st century loonies, and we will find out that the galaxies have made a lot more than 13 revolutions in their lifetimes.
But back to Peterson. His line is that our basic human problem is dealing with the unexpected, the irruption of the terrifying Unknown, potential chaos, into our ordered world. And it is the job of the hero to venture into the unknown, explore it, understand it, and bring it into the predictable known world. You can see that this narrative does not end with the birth of science. Science is always butting into unexpected results that disturb our current understanding. Indeed, good scientists are aching for such a situation, because that creates the possibility to become an Einstein, a Heisenberg, or a Richard Feynman: a hero.
And yes, that hero, that Son, in venturing to solve mankind's problems, is also sacrificing himself so that others may live. Mother, the creator of life, Father, the guarantee of order, and the Son the sacrificial hero. It's right there in all myth and religion. It's even in left-wing activism. What do you think the brave young activist going against the evil status quo and bending the arc of history towards justice is all about?
But I am also getting some clarity about modern monotheism from Rodney Stark. He makes me adjust my ideas about the Axial Age when cities and monotheism got started.
(By the way, Stark points out that all the monotheisms got there by demoting the auxiliary gods, making them into angels and Satans saints and whatnot).
Stark's line about the Axial Age, which he puts definitively at the 6th Century BC, rather than the 800 BC to 300 BC at La Wik, is the social crisis of the transition from village to city.
Quoting Karl Jaspers, who coined Achsenzeit, Stark states that the Axial Age marks the beginning of ethical religion, religion concerned with morality. The old gods, you see, were not moral.
Oh, and by the way, I'd say that the modern godless administrative state, especially in its extreme instantiations of Communist and Fascist regimes, relies way too much on actual mortal, human formal social control without the help of the immortal gods. I'd say that a little bit of faith in a God who knows all and sees all can fill in for a whole bunch of policemen, who are, after all, nothing but time servers counting the day till they get their pensions.
Oh and by the way, how about the market economy that rewards trust and fair dealing and pretty soon cuts out the untrustworthy and cheater, and given its head, can increase human income by 30 times in 200 years? You could call it a rebirth of informal social control. It ain't perfect, of course, but everybody benefits from reciprocal trust. And you know why? Because it is cheaper: it reduces transaction costs and that goes straight to the bottom line.
It's all very exciting because they are all talking about the same thing, only with different sound systems. Strictly speaking, I should not write about them while in the middle of reading them, in media res, just like the great classic myths, like the Iliad and the Odyssey, that all start "in the middle." But hey, if the great story-tellers can start in the middle, why not me?
For instance, this morning in "The Gay Science" Nietzsche was talking about both "heroes" and "chaos." That, of course, is exactly what Jordan Peterson is talking about.
Peterson's premise is that to understand myth and humans you have to understand that non-scientific people have to live in a world of the known and the unknown. At any moment, you may have to deal with an irruption of the unknown into your life, otherwise known as chaos.
Now in our world we think the known world extends all the way out to space, to the solar system, to the galaxy, to other galaxies. We have theories that explain the whole thing. We have a bit of a problem with the Big Bang and dark matter and dark energy and multiverses, but hey, the priests, er, scientists at the temples of knowledge will soon figure out the whole procedure.
Actually, I maintain that, despite all our modern knowledge we still don't have a clue what it is all about, the "meaning of life, the universe, and everything" as Douglas Adams repeats again and again in The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
In fact, even though we don't like to admit it, the whole stuff about the Big Bang, dark matter and dark energy and so forth play pretty close to a creation myth. "In the beginning" there was the big bang, then inflation, then atoms started to form, then stars then galaxies. But here's a funny thing. They say that galaxies do about one revolution in a billion years. So that means that, given the current scientifically determined age of the universe, the galaxies have only made about 13 revolutions since the Dawn of Time.
Know what? I don't think so. I think that in time there will be another theory that replaces the Big Bang. The Big Bang will be consigned to the lumber room as an ancient myth of those superstitious 21st century loonies, and we will find out that the galaxies have made a lot more than 13 revolutions in their lifetimes.
But back to Peterson. His line is that our basic human problem is dealing with the unexpected, the irruption of the terrifying Unknown, potential chaos, into our ordered world. And it is the job of the hero to venture into the unknown, explore it, understand it, and bring it into the predictable known world. You can see that this narrative does not end with the birth of science. Science is always butting into unexpected results that disturb our current understanding. Indeed, good scientists are aching for such a situation, because that creates the possibility to become an Einstein, a Heisenberg, or a Richard Feynman: a hero.
And yes, that hero, that Son, in venturing to solve mankind's problems, is also sacrificing himself so that others may live. Mother, the creator of life, Father, the guarantee of order, and the Son the sacrificial hero. It's right there in all myth and religion. It's even in left-wing activism. What do you think the brave young activist going against the evil status quo and bending the arc of history towards justice is all about?
But I am also getting some clarity about modern monotheism from Rodney Stark. He makes me adjust my ideas about the Axial Age when cities and monotheism got started.
(By the way, Stark points out that all the monotheisms got there by demoting the auxiliary gods, making them into angels and Satans saints and whatnot).
Stark's line about the Axial Age, which he puts definitively at the 6th Century BC, rather than the 800 BC to 300 BC at La Wik, is the social crisis of the transition from village to city.
Quoting Karl Jaspers, who coined Achsenzeit, Stark states that the Axial Age marks the beginning of ethical religion, religion concerned with morality. The old gods, you see, were not moral.
[F]rom infancy, humans are raised to believe that the norms of their group are the "right" way to behave and are trained to conform. In addition, all groups exert informal methods of social control -- pressures to conform imposed by those in our immediate environment... But as societies become larger, and many people are unknown to one another, informal social control breaks down.That's when you need "formal social control," i.e., the state, to execute on "deterring and punishing moral violations, usually involving specialists in detection and punishment." But, as Nicholas Wade points out in his The Faith Instinct, there is a problem. People don't like the enforcers from another family enforcing on their family. There is a danger of social strife between people in the community. Plus, no human enforcement specialist is going to bring every malcontent to justice. Enter the monotheistic God. Stark: "Being all-knowing and all-seeing, God is the ideal enforcer of morality." Wade:
A system of supernatural punishment carries enormous advantages for a primitive society. No one has to assume the thankless task of meting out punishment and risk being killed by the offender or his relatives; the gods perform this chore willingly and vigilantly.Now, as a racist sexist homophobe, I am drawn to the idea that the informal social control of the village was (and is) performed by women. That is what the women's culture of complaint is all about: "I can't believe she said/did that." But it is clear that formal social control is a guy thing. That's why the monotheistic gods are male. When the cracking of skulls is needed, you need a man for the job.
Oh, and by the way, I'd say that the modern godless administrative state, especially in its extreme instantiations of Communist and Fascist regimes, relies way too much on actual mortal, human formal social control without the help of the immortal gods. I'd say that a little bit of faith in a God who knows all and sees all can fill in for a whole bunch of policemen, who are, after all, nothing but time servers counting the day till they get their pensions.
Oh and by the way, how about the market economy that rewards trust and fair dealing and pretty soon cuts out the untrustworthy and cheater, and given its head, can increase human income by 30 times in 200 years? You could call it a rebirth of informal social control. It ain't perfect, of course, but everybody benefits from reciprocal trust. And you know why? Because it is cheaper: it reduces transaction costs and that goes straight to the bottom line.
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