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The Guardian
3 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
The ancient Chinese text of the Zhuangzi teaches us to reject entrenched values – and treasure the diversity of humanity
The Zhuangzi, an ancient Chinese Daoist text written by the philosopher known by the same name, has a lot to say about people who are considered 'disabled'. This is interesting in itself, as parts of it were written around the 4th century BCE, when only the privileged could read and write. Why would the authors of this text, men of privilege, be interested in people who were considered at the time to be 'less than normal'? The answer relates, at least in part, to the fact that the text was critical of how its society promoted and prioritised the 'valuable' or 'useful', and what was regarded as important to humanity. Within such a society, whatever – or whoever – falls short of the accepted standards is seen in demeaning ways. But the Zhuangzi rejects this way of thinking. So how might we put some of these ideas into practice today? The Zhuangzi tells the story of a wondrous tree, so large that its canopy provided shade for thousands of oxen. The tree only became this large because its wood was deemed to be 'useless' for any human project. Therefore, it was left alone and allowed to grow into its magnificent size. This story shows how easy it is for us to adopt entrenched values. Are we guided too much by what society tells us is 'useless'? It allows us to turn the tables on our own assumptions and challenge our thinking of what 'normal' and 'useful' means. This is reflective of Daoism more broadly, which advocates for diversity in how we think about humanity and human achievements. Daoism resists what would today be considered an ableist approach to life. It teaches us that looking at life through an ableist lens only leads to negativity about those who are deemed 'not good enough'. Such an approach looks for how people are deficient, rather than how they are capable. The Zhuangzi's point is not that we cannot celebrate excellence. Rather, it champions the richness of life by showing that people can be excellent in many different ways. Instead of telling us how to fix people's medical and physiological conditions, it prompts us to reflect on the shallow attitudes of those who see others as 'disabled', who want to draw attention to what some people lack, rather than what they might have. There isn't a word in the Zhuangzi that means 'disability'. Rather, the ancient text uses storytelling and exaggerated language to try to show how society sees some people in derogatory ways. Stories about 'sad horsehead humpback' or 'hunchback limpleg' show that these are not labels that the men were born with; they were given to them by a society that wrongly prides itself on 'normalising' able-bodied people. Through these stories, we learn that sometimes the word 'disability' is used unfairly to define people, so that our interactions with them are determined by the label. As the Zhuangzhi shows, life is too important for us to take a one-size-fits-all approach to it. The philosophy encourages us to embrace the richness of life by appreciating its diversity. Karyn Lai is a professor of philosophy in the faculty of arts, design and architecture, University of New South Wales
Telegraph
25-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
A.C. Grayling: The anti-wokeists are guilty of a massive cancelling endeavour
When it comes to 'campaigns of cancellation', there is no better current example than Meghan Markle, says A.C. Grayling. 'The attempt to cancel Meghan Markle was and is huge. I mean, there are so many different media outlets and groups in society that are really dumping on her.' There's something very amusing about her name in his mouth. After all, this is Prof A.C. Grayling, philosopher and bestselling author of Philosophy and Life: Exploring the Great Questions of How to Live. For the past hour, we have been ricocheting from the origins of Christianity and the Roman emperor Theodosius to Holocaust denial. Then, out of nowhere, up pops the royal Kardashian, her name carefully enunciated. 'Now, I'm completely neutral on her score, since I really don't know all the details,' the 75-year-old goes on when I ask what he thinks the reasons behind this cancellation campaign may be. Because as someone who has 'dumped on her' more than once, I'm thinking some of them may be valid. 'It's not impossible to exclude the racial thing,' he says. 'The idea that people don't want a woman of colour in the Royal family, while others didn't like the way she behaved.' Indeed. 'People are very possessive over the Royal family. There's a standard of purity which has to be met, because it preserves the heart of things. Then, if it's penetrated by someone deemed to be a little bit too woke…' He breaks off with a low chuckle, perhaps at how distant all that royal stuff feels from the gorgeous Left Bank apartment in which we are sitting, drinking coffee from tiny colourful cups. This Saint-Germain flat has been the Francophile's home on and off for the past three years. Like the philosopher, who is dressed down today in a hooded top, casual trousers and stripy socks – it's cosy and unpretentious. The sitting room-cum-study is book-lined, sheepskin rugs cover the armchairs, and there's a piano in the corner that he likes to play daily. Ask him whether he's happier here than in London (where he still owns a property in Bloomsbury), and he shrugs: 'Well, this is where I write.' Which might very well answer the question. His desk overlooks one of the city's prettiest squares (featured extensively in Emily in Paris), and aside from the church bells and cooing doves, it's blissfully quiet. 'Listen,' he resumes, 'I don't know what it is about her personally that seems so abrasive and barbative to people. I cited her as an example of a massive cancelling endeavour on the part of the anti-wokeists to make a point.' Which is? 'That if that amount of attention were directed at something truly awful like white supremacists? Then there would at least be a bit of a balance, wouldn't there?' It's a point he expands upon in his forthcoming book, Discriminations: Making Peace in the Culture Wars. A timely examination of the incendiary debate around culture, the book takes us on a journey through the history of cancellation, from Ancient Greek 'ostracism' through to witch trials, then to the Second World War. Like all Grayling's works – and he has written over 30 on philosophy, religion and current affairs – this one is thought-provoking and meticulously researched, so that even when you disagree with his stances (he thinks cancellations can often not only be just but necessary), you can't deny that the arguments are firmly backed up. Grayling admits in the book's preface that his sympathies 'both intellectually and emotionally lie in the woke direction'. Working on the basis that woke causes are just and that to be against discrimination is a no-brainer, Discriminations concentrates chiefly on the 'woke wars' themselves, and how alarming the pushback is. 'We see it now in spades,' he says, 'with the Trump administration really just dumping on diversity, equity and inclusion [DEI] thinking.' 'DEI absolutely has to stay,' he insists. 'Even if people find it very tiresome to be told by their organisations that they have to do this thing, if they can recognise that it's important, it's very salutary.' The pushback, he explains, is actually 'proof progress has been made. A really interesting product of the success of 'the woke cause'. Because as layers of discrimination are peeled away, deeper layers [of discrimination] are exposed.' Slavery might be over, he argues in the book, 'but racism in both systemic and subtler forms persists. Overt sexism might have diminished, but structural barriers to equality for women in public and economic life continue.' The Meghan phenomenon – where a person or issue becomes emblematic of everything people loathe about wokeism, thereby incurring a disproportionate amount of vitriol – is one of the most obvious manifestations of that pushback, he says. 'You've got the same extraordinary thing happening with the transgender issue,' he goes on, adding that although there are more 'pressing' issues, such as the climate catastrophe and women still lagging way behind men, a debate about 'between 0.5 to 1 per cent of the world's population' takes up an enormous amount of oxygen. Although Grayling is quite right about us sometimes focusing on the wrong things, I would argue that seemingly trivial things can also, on occasion, be emblematic of much larger cultural shifts. That the gender-neutral loo debate, for example, is about deeply concerning issues – not least, female safety. Given the word 'woman' has become unacceptable in some quarters, doesn't it make sense that 'people who menstruate' feel they are in danger of being eradicated? 'When you are trying to discredit a person or cause,' says Grayling, 'you first ridicule what people say – so 'women with penises' and so on.' In his mind, the trans community has been chosen as a target simply 'because it's so easy to attack'. How so? 'Because they are so vulnerable, and if you want to discredit all the woke causes, you pick the most vulnerable and use it [to that aim]. You generalise by saying that it's woke to be pro-transgender and that woke in general is bad.' However small the global statistics seem, he goes on, 'there are, by the way, 48,000 of them in the United Kingdom, which is quite a significant number. A very small number of those will be pretendians who just want to get into women's changing rooms.' He will agree that often 'it's the people in the stands, like at a football match', who are stoking divisions and that social media plays a huge responsibility. As a father of four – with two children, Joylon, 48, and Georgina, 52, from his first marriage to Gabrielle Smyth and a daughter, Madeleine, 25, and stepson, Luke, 29, from his 18-year second marriage to bestselling novelist Katie Hickman – 'I have seen the difference in children who grew up in the age of the screen,' he says. 'Social media in particular has proved to be a toxin.' Largely because 'since all communication has to be short, it's like a referendum question every time, with everything oversimplified, and people disappearing down these social media silos that only reinforce division.' When I later ask his views on JK Rowling, Grayling says: 'That is what happens when these people who began really moderately, like her, by saying: 'Look, I'm very sympathetic to pushback becomes so unpleasant: you do become more entrenched and extreme. We see people who don't feel comfortable with the gender they were assigned, but I'm worried about the place of women in all this', but then people really have a go at them. They cancel them and stop buying their books.' Grayling fully accepts that this form of cancellation is wrong. 'Because there was a phase where Rowling repeatedly attempted to explain exactly what she meant, but people just kept on saying she was horrible.' He also agrees that in our arguments on this issue, we need to differentiate between trans adults and the pushing of trans ideologies on kids. On the day we meet, it has been reported that Health Secretary Wes Streeting is refusing to intervene over NHS plans to test puberty blockers on children, and when I point out that there isn't a sane person in the world who would agree with the stand-alone idea of medical experimentation on children, Grayling nods vigorously. 'You're quite right. These issues need to be separated. There's a parallel between being sympathetic and having an open mind. You want an open mind, but not so open that your brains fall out. You can be very sympathetic to a cause but still see that you need to think very clearly about all the implications.' The 'peace' he offers up so tantalisingly in the title of his book – how can it be achieved? 'If you could say 'let's just respect people's individual human rights', all discrimination would simply cease,' he maintains. 'The 'woke wars' are a conflict between the rights of those whose rights are not being fully respected (and hence suffer the consequences of this) and those whose interests are, or are perceived to be threatened [by according respect to those rights].' The writer's sympathies make a lot of sense when you consider his background. Born in Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia), Grayling spent the entirety of his childhood in Africa, where his father worked as a banker. 'My own mother was an emphatic racist,' he writes in Discriminations, but 'because I was brought up by Africans, most dear to me among them 'Johnny' Penza and his first wife Besta, who cared for me when I was little and with whom I spent much of my time, the adverse treatment they experienced troubled me profoundly, and the sentiments thus engendered have not changed.' It would take four days by train for him and his older brother, John – now 80 and a retired brewer – to get back home from their Cape Town boarding school, 'which meant that we didn't see our parents very often.' When he was home, Grayling tells me that he was 'conscious of the fact that the people in the nice part of the house, where there was food and warmth and laughter, all had black skin. And the people in the cold, silent part of the house where they kept shushing us all had white skin.' Understandably, this 'reinforced my whole attitude to life and discrimination', he says. At 19, not long after Grayling came to live in the UK, attending Sussex University, he suffered a dual tragedy that also had a huge impact on his life and beliefs. His 27-year-old sister, Jennifer, was found murdered in Johannesburg, and his mother then had a fatal heart attack after identifying her daughter's body. 'For a long time, I never used to talk about it,' he told The Telegraph in 2016, 'because I felt faintly embarrassed about having such an awful tragedy happen in my family. When I did open up, I found to my surprise how easily upset I am about it even after many, many years.' Although he had been attracted to Humanism from the age of 14, these tragedies 'confirmed' the philosophy for him, he tells me. Most appealing, he says, 'was this idea that you approach human beings, no matter what they are or where they come from with sympathy – unless or until they behave badly. As Emerson said: 'We should give people the same advantage that we give a painting, the advantage of a good light.' Having lectured in philosophy at Bedford College-London (now Royal Holloway), St. Anne's College-Oxford and Birkbeck College-University of London, he then founded the Northeastern University London (formerly New College of the Humanities) in 2012. The idea of a for-profit private university (then charging £18,000 a year) proved controversial, with academics branding the idea 'odious' and students shouting down the author at public events. One room, in a central London bookshop even needed to be evacuated after a smoke bomb was lit. 'I was more hurt than surprised,' says Grayling, 'because I thought my bona fides (among those academic colleagues who took exception) were enough for it to be regarded as a sincere effort - as it quickly proved itself to be by its success.' It would be hard to argue with that. 'Whereas there were 50 students when we first opened the doors, there are now 3000, and we have vastly expanded our range.' Many of his books have also been polemical, not least his Good Book (2011), a kind of re-written, secular Bible. Some have even been banned in places like the UAE. But today, he is serene, even a little proud of his latest censorship. 'I've actually been kicked off X,' he tells me. 'Yes, I reposted a tweet about Musk and corruption at the end of January, and then when I couldn't get into my account and contacted them, they told me I'd been banned.' Quite a badge of honour, I would think. 'I suppose it really is,' he agrees. Ask him what his predictions are, given the new world order, and he gives a weary sigh. 'Who was it who said that prophecy is always a risky business, especially if it's about the future? Things are so disrupted now. Here we are in March, and already the world order has been turned on its head. Now, look what's happened because of Trump and Putin. We're having to increase defence spending from 1.5% to maybe 3 or even 4%. That's a vast sum of money, which could be used for health and education and foreign aid – and it's forcing us to go back to bad old ways. This is what bad people do to the world.' As a remain campaigner he does think 'the Ukraine emergency has brought the UK back to being much closer to the EU and puts a bit of a wind behind us rejoining.' Because of his campaigning, he knows a number of people on the European side, 'and I know that Europe is mad keen to have us back.' I should let Grayling get back to his writing – he has another book, on the rise of authoritarianism and the dangers of democracy coming out at the end of the year – but before I do, I have to ask about a throwaway comment he made in the Guardian, last year, when asked who he might most like to punch. 'Oh, I would still punch Boris,' he assures me, with a laugh. 'And it's not totally unimaginable that he might be able to worm his way back,' he groans. 'I mean, imagine if he were captured by Reform, and Farage could bear to share the limelight with anybody else. You could see that kind of scenario happening.' Why does he object to him so strongly, out of interest? 'He's a liar and a self-interested, bloviating narcissist who paid no attention to matters of policy. I think he's a very bad person. Completely amoral. Amoral people say that they will do things and don't. He's a petty individual, as well, and he knows that he's in danger of being found out all the time. He has, in fact, been found out.' By this point, we're both laughing. Why not tell me how he really feels? And the main points of difference between Johnson and Trump, I push? After all, they are often compared to one another in character. 'The key difference is that Boris has charm – quite a lot of charm, unfortunately. Whereas Trump has no charm at all.' I'm still chuckling when I make my way down the narrow stairs onto the streets of Paris. One of the key tenets of Grayling's writings has always been 'how to live a good life.' It seems that he, at least, has succeeded. A C Grayling talks to Stephen Law, 'Discriminations: Making Peace in the Culture Wars' at Oxford Literary Festival, in partnership with The Telegraph, on Wednesday 2 April. Tickets: Telegraph readers can save 20 per cent with the code 25TEL20. Discriminations: Making Peace in the Culture Wars by A C Grayling is published by on 3 April (Oneworld, £12.99)
Yahoo
25-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
A.C. Grayling: The anti-wokeists are guilty of a massive cancelling endeavour
When it comes to 'campaigns of cancellation', there is no better current example than Meghan Markle, says A.C. Grayling. 'The attempt to cancel Meghan Markle was and is huge. I mean, there are so many different media outlets and groups in society that are really dumping on her.' There's something very amusing about her name in his mouth. After all, this is Prof A.C. Grayling, philosopher and bestselling author of Philosophy and Life: Exploring the Great Questions of How to Live. For the past hour, we have been ricocheting from the origins of Christianity and the Roman emperor Theodosius to Holocaust denial. Then, out of nowhere, up pops the royal Kardashian, her name carefully enunciated. 'Now, I'm completely neutral on her score, since I really don't know all the details,' the 75-year-old goes on when I ask what he thinks the reasons behind this cancellation campaign may be. Because as someone who has 'dumped on her' more than once, I'm thinking some of them may be valid. 'It's not impossible to exclude the racial thing,' he says. 'The idea that people don't want a woman of colour in the Royal family, while others didn't like the way she behaved.' Indeed. 'People are very possessive over the Royal family. There's a standard of purity which has to be met, because it preserves the heart of things. Then, if it's penetrated by someone deemed to be a little bit too woke…' He breaks off with a low chuckle, perhaps at how distant all that royal stuff feels from the gorgeous Left Bank apartment in which we are sitting, drinking coffee from tiny colourful cups. This Saint-Germain flat has been the Francophile's home on and off for the past three years. Like the philosopher, who is dressed down today in a hooded top, casual trousers and stripy socks – it's cosy and unpretentious. The sitting room-cum-study is book-lined, sheepskin rugs cover the armchairs, and there's a piano in the corner that he likes to play daily. Ask him whether he's happier here than in London (where he still owns a property in Bloomsbury), and he shrugs: 'Well, this is where I write.' Which might very well answer the question. His desk overlooks one of the city's prettiest squares (featured extensively in Emily in Paris), and aside from the church bells and cooing doves, it's blissfully quiet. 'Listen,' he resumes, 'I don't know what it is about her personally that seems so abrasive and barbative to people. I cited her as an example of a massive cancelling endeavour on the part of the anti-wokeists to make a point.' Which is? 'That if that amount of attention were directed at something truly awful like white supremacists? Then there would at least be a bit of a balance, wouldn't there?' It's a point he expands upon in his forthcoming book, Discriminations: Making Peace in the Culture Wars. A timely examination of the incendiary debate around culture, the book takes us on a journey through the history of cancellation, from Ancient Greek 'ostracism' through to witch trials, then to the Second World War. Like all Grayling's works – and he has written over 30 on philosophy, religion and current affairs – this one is thought-provoking and meticulously researched, so that even when you disagree with his stances (he thinks cancellations can often not only be just, but necessary), you can't deny that the arguments are firmly backed up. Grayling admits in the book's preface that his sympathies, 'both intellectually and emotionally, lie in the woke direction'. Working on the basis that woke causes are just and that to be against discrimination is a no-brainer, Discriminations concentrates chiefly on the 'woke wars' themselves, and how alarming the pushback is. 'We see it now in spades,' he says, 'with the Trump administration really just dumping on diversity, equity and inclusion [DEI] thinking.' 'DEI absolutely has to stay,' he insists. 'Even if people find it very tiresome to be told by their organisations that they have to do this thing, if they can recognise that it's important, it's very salutary.' The pushback, he explains, is actually 'proof progress has been made. A really interesting product of the success of 'the woke cause'. Because as layers of discrimination are peeled away, deeper layers [of discrimination] are exposed.' Slavery might be over, he argues in the book, 'but racism in both systemic and subtler forms persists. Overt sexism might have diminished, but structural barriers to equality for women in public and economic life continue.' The Meghan phenomenon – where a person or issue becomes emblematic of everything people loathe about wokeism, thereby incurring a disproportionate amount of vitriol – is one of the most obvious manifestations of that pushback, he says. 'You've got the same extraordinary thing happening with the transgender issue,' he goes on, adding that although there are more 'pressing' issues, such as the climate catastrophe and women still lagging way behind men, a debate about 'between 0.5 to 1% of the world's population' takes up an enormous amount of oxygen. Although Grayling is quite right about us sometimes focusing on the wrong things, I would argue that seemingly trivial things can also, on occasion, be emblematic of much larger cultural shifts. That the gender-neutral loo debate, for example, is about deeply concerning issues – not least, female safety. Given the word 'woman' has become unacceptable in some quarters, doesn't it make sense that 'people who menstruate' feel they are in danger of being eradicated? 'When you are trying to discredit a person or cause,' says Grayling. 'You first ridicule what people say – so 'women with penises' and so on.' In his mind, the trans community has been chosen as a target simply 'because it's so easy to attack'. How so? 'Because they are so vulnerable, and if you want to discredit all the woke causes, you pick the most vulnerable and use it [to that aim]. You generalise by saying that it's woke to be pro-transgender and that woke in general is bad'. However small the global statistics seem, he goes on, 'there are, by the way, 48,000 of them in the United Kingdom, which is quite a significant number. A very small number of those will be pretendians who just want to get into women's changing rooms.' He will agree that often 'it's the people in the stands, like at a football match', who are stoking divisions and that social media plays a huge responsibility. As a father of four – with two children, Joylon, 48, and Georgina, 52, from his first marriage to Gabrielle Smyth and a daughter, Madeleine, 25, and stepson, Luke, 29, from his 18-year second marriage to bestselling novelist Katie Hickman – 'I have seen the difference in children who grew up in the age of the screen,' he says. 'Social media in particular has proved to be a toxin.' Largely because 'since all communication has to be short, it's like a referendum question every time, with everything over simplified, and people disappearing down these social media silos that only reinforce division.' When I later ask his views on JK Rowling, Grayling says: 'That is what happens when these people who began really moderately, like her, by saying: 'Look, I'm very sympathetic to pushback becomes so unpleasant: you do become more entrenched and extreme. We see people who don't feel comfortable with the gender they were assigned, but I'm worried about the place of women in all this', but then people really have a go at them. They cancel them and stop buying their books.' Grayling fully accepts that this form of cancellation is wrong. 'Because there was a phase where Rowling repeatedly attempted to explain exactly what she meant, but people just kept on saying she was horrible.' He also agrees that in our arguments on this issue, we need to differentiate between trans adults and the pushing of trans ideologies on kids. On the day we meet, it has been reported that Health Secretary Wes Streeting is refusing to intervene over NHS plans to test puberty blockers on children, and when I point out that there isn't a sane person in the world who would agree with the stand-alone idea of medical experimentation on children, Grayling nods vigorously. 'You're quite right. These issues need to be separated. There's a parallel between being sympathetic and having an open mind. You want an open mind, but not so open that your brains fall out. You can be very sympathetic to a cause but still see that you need to think very clearly about all the implications.' The 'peace' he offers up so tantalisingly in the title of his book – how can it be achieved? 'If you could say 'let's just respect people's individual human rights', all discrimination would simply cease,' he maintains. 'The 'woke wars' are a conflict between the rights of those whose rights are not being fully respected (and hence suffer the consequences of this) and those whose interests are, or are perceived to be threatened [by according respect to those rights].' The writer's sympathies make a lot of sense when you consider his background. Born in Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia), Grayling spent the entirety of his childhood in Africa, where his father worked as a banker. 'My own mother was an emphatic racist,' he writes in Discriminations, but 'because I was brought up by Africans, most dear to me among them 'Johnny' Penza and his first wife Besta, who cared for me when I was little and with whom I spent much of my time, the adverse treatment they experienced troubled me profoundly, and the sentiments thus engendered have not changed.' It would take four days by train for him and his older brother, John – now 80 and a retired brewer – to get back home from their Cape Town boarding school, 'which meant that we didn't see our parents very often.' When he was home, Grayling tells me that he was 'conscious of the fact that the people in the nice part of the house, where there was food and warmth and laughter, all had black skin. And the people in the cold, silent part of the house where they kept shushing us all had white skin.' Understandably, this 'reinforced my whole attitude to life and discrimination', he says. At 19, not long after Grayling came to live in the UK, attending Sussex University, he suffered a dual tragedy that also had a huge impact on his life and beliefs. His 27-year-old sister, Jennifer, was found murdered in Johannesburg, and his mother then had a fatal heart attack after identifying her daughter's body. 'For a long time, I never used to talk about it,' he told The Telegraph in 2016, 'because I felt faintly embarrassed about having such an awful tragedy happen in my family. When I did open up, I found to my surprise how easily upset I am about it even after many, many years.' Although he had been attracted to Humanism from the age of 14, these tragedies 'confirmed' the philosophy for him, he tells me. Most appealing, he says, 'was this idea that you approach human beings, no matter what they are or where they come from with sympathy – unless or until they behave badly. As Emerson said: 'We should give people the same advantage that we give a painting, the advantage of a good light.' Having lectured in philosophy at Bedford College-London (now Royal Holloway), St. Anne's College-Oxford and Birkbeck College-University of London, he then founded the Northeastern University London (formerly New College of the Humanities) in 2012. The idea of a for-profit private university (then charging £18,000 a year) proved controversial, with academics branding the idea 'odious' and students shouting down the author at public events. One room, in a central London bookshop even needed to be evacuated after a smoke bomb was lit. 'I was more hurt than surprised,' says Grayling, 'because I thought my bona fides (among those academic colleagues who took exception) were enough for it to be regarded as a sincere effort - as it quickly proved itself to be by its success.' It would be hard to argue with that. 'Whereas there were 50 students when we first opened the doors, there are now 3000, and we have vastly expanded our range.' Many of his books have also been polemical, not least his Good Book (2011), a kind of re-written, secular Bible. Some have even been banned in places like the UAE. But today, he is serene, even a little proud of his latest censorship. 'I've actually been kicked off X,' he tells me. 'Yes, I reposted a tweet about Musk and corruption at the end of January, and then when I couldn't get into my account and contacted them, they told me I'd been banned.' Quite a badge of honour, I would think. 'I suppose it really is,' he agrees. Ask him what his predictions are, given the new world order, and he gives a weary sigh. 'Who was it who said that prophecy is always a risky business, especially if it's about the future? Things are so disrupted now. Here we are in March, and already the world order has been turned on its head. Now, look what's happened because of Trump and Putin. We're having to increase defence spending from 1.5% to maybe 3 or even 4%. That's a vast sum of money, which could be used for health and education and foreign aid – and it's forcing us to go back to bad old ways. This is what bad people do to the world.' As a remain campaigner he does think 'the Ukraine emergency has brought the UK back to being much closer to the EU and puts a bit of a wind behind us rejoining.' Because of his campaigning, he knows a number of people on the European side, 'and I know that Europe is mad keen to have us back.' I should let Grayling get back to his writing – he has another book, on the rise of authoritarianism and the dangers of democracy coming out at the end of the year – but before I do, I have to ask about a throwaway comment he made in the Guardian, last year, when asked who he might most like to punch. 'Oh, I would still punch Boris,' he assures me, with a laugh. 'And it's not totally unimaginable that he might be able to worm his way back,' he groans. 'I mean, imagine if he were captured by Reform, and Farage could bear to share the limelight with anybody else. You could see that kind of scenario happening.' Why does he object to him so strongly, out of interest? 'He's a liar and a self-interested, bloviating narcissist who paid no attention to matters of policy. I think he's a very bad person. Completely amoral. Amoral people say that they will do things and don't. He's a petty individual, as well, and he knows that he's in danger of being found out all the time. He has, in fact, been found out.' By this point, we're both laughing. Why not tell me how he really feels? And the main points of difference between Johnson and Trump, I push? After all, they are often compared to one another in character. 'The key difference is that Boris has charm – quite a lot of charm, unfortunately. Whereas Trump has no charm at all.' I'm still chuckling when I make my way down the narrow stairs onto the streets of Paris. One of the key tenets of Grayling's writings has always been 'how to live a good life.' It seems that he, at least, has succeeded. A C Grayling talks to Stephen Law, 'Discriminations: Making Peace in the Culture Wars' at Oxford Literary Festival, in partnership with The Telegraph, on Wednesday 2 April. Tickets: Telegraph readers can save 20 per cent with the code 25TEL20. Discriminations: Making Peace in the Culture Wars by A C Grayling is published by on 3 April (Oneworld, £12.99) Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
South China Morning Post
14-03-2025
- Business
- South China Morning Post
Can Trump and China's contrasting economic visions finally settle state vs market debate?
Last Wednesday, the leaders of the world's two greatest powers laid out starkly different visions for their countries. Advertisement The outcomes of these conflicting doctrines may impact the global balance of power and even settle a centuries-old debate on economics and public governance. In Washington, US President Donald Trump, in his first address to Congress of his second term, gave a speech that would please the followers of his 1980s predecessor Ronald Reagan or free-market economist Milton Friedman – minus the tariffs part. Whether he is aware of it or not, the intellectual roots of the values Trump champions stretch back to John Locke, the 17th-century philosopher who profoundly influenced the founding of the United States and its constitution – even though most Americans today are blissfully unaware of him. Simply put, this school argues that government power is a necessary evil that must be kept on a tight leash. Its principal function is to protect personal liberty and rights – by which Locke chiefly means 'property rights'. Advertisement 'The great and chief end of men uniting into commonwealths, putting themselves under government, is the preservation of their property,' Locke famously wrote in his Second Treatise on Civil Government.
Yahoo
22-02-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Faded Glory, Growing Dishonor
From the G-File on The Dispatch Dear Reader (especially those of you following your dreams), Imagine you're a pop star or famous actor. You have an entourage of yes men (or yes persons if that's too sexist for you). They suck up to you, lavish you with praise, let you win at cards or video games, and generally act like they think everything you say is more brilliant or funnier than it really is. It doesn't matter if your entourage is sincere in its sycophancy or cynical. You can't tell the difference. Now imagine that you stubbed your toe one morning. At dinner with your crew, you talk about how much it hurt. Everyone sympathizes and makes a big deal about how awful it is to stub your toe. Then, later in the meal, one of your cronies reveals he has been diagnosed with cancer. Everyone sympathizes and asks what they can do, including you. But eventually the conversation returns to the ordeal and agony of toe-stubbing. It's not that anyone said toe-stubbing is worse than cancer, but the overall effect is to leave the subtle impression that your toe-stubbing is a bigger deal because it gets more attention. Now imagine that you've had hundreds, or thousands, of similar experiences. Your hassles and minor hardships get more attention and sympathy than other peoples' real ordeals—deaths in the family, car accidents, whatever. Over time, you'll start to think that your small problems are more important than other peoples' real crises and calamities. You'll think your banal insights are brilliant while actual brilliant insights can't hold a candle to your dim-bulb ideas. This state of mind is called acquired situational narcissism, a term coined by Dr. Robert Millman, a prominent psychiatrist. I first heard about ASN 20 years ago in an NPR segment on Michael Jackson, and it's come to mind countless times since Donald Trump smashed into our lives like the Kool Aid-Man. But I don't want to talk about Trump's obvious narcissism. Rather I want to discuss three different, but weirdly related, problems. I haven't studied the literature on ASN, so maybe Millman or someone else has looked at its effects on its enablers. It just seems to me that ASN doesn't just involve the psychic deformation of ASN sufferers, but of the people who make it possible. In my time in Washington, I've met countless people who have become blind to their own sycophancy of their bosses and heroes. People who like sycophants attract people who are comfortable being sycophants. In my experience, the proverb, 'No man is a hero to his valet' is not always true, though it can be. German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel's famous quip is also correct only sometimes. 'No man is a hero to his valet; not, however, because the man is not a hero, but because the valet is a valet.' Quite often the opposite is true: The man is a hero to the valet because the valet is the kind of person who wants to be a valet to a hero. Whether or not the man is actually a hero is irrelevant to the valet who needs to believe he has hitched his fate to greatness. I see this dynamic all over the place these days. People need to believe they are part of some great cause, that their supplication to Trump and the subordination of their own judgment is a small price to pay for being in the 'room where it happens.' The thrill of having his fame rub off on them is intoxicating and seductive, particularly, but not exclusively, among the sorts of people for whom being a valet to a 'great' man is the only way they can buy significance or respect or celebrity. This dynamic is most obvious among those with actual proximity, personal or political, to Trump. But it also happens at a distance. Influencers, superfans, politicians, and TV hosts carry water for Trump like Gunga Din to be in on the action. Cults of personality are not new. I met someone whose family was so enthralled with the cult of the Kennedys that a room in their house was a veritable shrine to that corrupt clan. Form letters from Ted Kennedy's Senate office were framed and prominently hung on the wall. You couldn't convince them that the autopen signature wasn't the real thing. The letters and photos were, to them, akin to medieval relics of a saint. Then there's Italian dictator Benito Mussolini, who cultivated the idea that he was married to the women of Italy. That came in handy when he asked Italians to give their gold to the state to compensate for international sanctions against Italy, and millions of Italian women sent him their wedding rings. A quarter of a million came from the wives of Rome alone. I think about these things every time I get spam from Trump Inc. offering the latest swag—membership cards, meme coins, hats, special slots as a 'Cabinet level advisor.' Like this email I got the other day: I understand that most people understand this is conventional fundraising BS and Trump never even saw this email. I mean, we can all agree that Trump is not interested in having me as an adviser, Cabinet-level or otherwise. But I'm also sure that some statistically significant number of people convince themselves that this is somehow real. They want to believe. Kayfabe only works on the kayfay-able. Which brings me to the second thing. One of the exhausting things about political life these days is the way the Outrage of the Day—or Outrage of the Hour—dynamic flattens controversies. Trump says something outrageous and everyone rushes into the virtual octagon to defend or attack it. Or a Trump critic says something outrageous and the scrum starts again. What vexes me is that distinctions don't matter. People simply go to their battle stations heedless of whether the criticism is justified or the issue is even worth fighting over. It's because the fighting is the point. The result is that everything gets flattened, commodified. This is the thing we're arguing about now. Tomorrow—or in 10 minutes—it will be something else. Just as the diva's (or divo's) stubbed toe is put on the same two-dimensional plane as the sycophant's cancer diagnosis, petty transgressions or petty accusations of transgression are relegated to parity with true outrages and scandals. Whataboutism becomes an all-purpose tool for defending the misdeeds of your side. Joe Biden did X so that cancels out what Donald Trump is doing right now. Never mind that when Joe Biden did X you were outraged, or vice versa. Two distinct wrongs become an argument for one wrong making another wrong right. It's all so very stupid. And it's tragic. And that brings me to the thing I am most angry about. If you read Wednesday's G-File, you'd know that I am legitimately appalled by the Trump administration's betrayal of Ukraine and the larger assault on the NATO alliance. This is a bigger deal than DOGE, the Eric Adams controversy, or any stupid tweets about Napoleonic brain farts or the fake King Trump Time magazine thing. It's a historic travesty. I am sick of hearing that Trump is trying to strengthen NATO by delivering 'tough love.' NATO deserves some tough love, but this isn't that. All of the arguments about Trump strengthening the alliance are pretextual rationalizations for not speaking up against what he is actually doing. Trump's deceitful and dishonorable attacks on Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and Trump's appalling adoption of Vladimir Putin's talking points make it clear that Trump's priority is not strengthening NATO or even delivering 'peace.' He is simply siding with Putin. Trump pretends that he cares—wrongly—that Zelensky is an illegitimate 'dictator,' but he doesn't care an iota that Putin is an actual dictator. He says that Ukraine 'started the war' and that since Russia has fought for the Ukrainian territory it stole at gunpoint, it should keep it. Vice President J.D. Vance says we shouldn't think of 'good guys' and 'bad guys' in foreign policy. Fine. I think that's morally obtuse and shortsighted. But okay. That idea has a formidable intellectual pedigree. What I cannot fathom is why the U.S. should affirmatively defend bad guys and slander good guys, in return for … nothing from the bad guys. The Trump administration and its supporters are signaling, in word and deed, that America is no longer a reliable ally. The administration is apparently floating a unilateral withdrawal of troops from the Baltics and is generally fine with loose talk, speculation, and panic about the future of NATO. And Trump's valet-like supporters are starting to call for exiting NATO. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has ordered a Pentagon review for massive defense cuts. These are signals. Indeed, just by talking about lifting sanctions on Russia—and by gutting the parts of the government that enforce them—Trump has given a massive gift to Putin. Other nations now know they don't have to worry too much about defying sanctions. The Russian economy and war machine have been given a lifeline thanks to Trump's incredibly stupid 'negotiating' strategy of signaling in advance that we will give Russia almost everything it wants. But our allies believe that America cannot be relied upon. Australia, which has fought alongside America in every major conflict since World War I, is preparing to be shafted by America. No doubt the Japanese, South Koreans, and certainly the Taiwanese have similar concerns. You can say our allies are overreacting to the administration's signals, or you can argue that they should fear being abandoned by America. But you can't argue both. Strike that. You can argue both in this stupid climate. Because arguments are reduced to whatever words you need to throw out of your cake hole in a given moment. Consistency, truth, principle, rigor? That's cuck-talk. Just claim Trump was joking until you can't defend that claim, then celebrate the fact that he's serious. Take him figuratively until it's time to take him literally. This stuff is too serious for such games. If our allies think we are no longer a reliable ally, you know what happens? They become unreliable allies. They start looking to make new alliances. They stop cooperating with us. Why should they? Again, if you think this is all to the good, fine. We can have that argument. But blowing up an international order we spent 80 years building, on a bipartisan basis, is something you do carefully. If you truly think Donald Trump has put much thought into this, you're probably the sort of person who'd send him your wedding ring if he asked for it. But, fine, let's all pretend this isn't happening. The Europeans are getting their panties in a bunch for no good reason. When Trump pulls off his master plan, NATO will be stronger, more reliable, and more useful for the challenges that lay ahead. But there's still the issue of honor. It's funny, the rhetoric of MAGA is all about glory, but either silent about, or contemptuous of, honor—both when it comes to character and foreign policy. Classically glory and honor are linked: True glory can only be achieved by acting honorably. Glorious acts are meaningless when pursued for fame instead of virtue. I'm running very long, so I'll spare you all the quotes from Cicero and Aristotle. I've been writing about the importance of honor in foreign policy for decades, usually in spats with left-leaning 'realists.' I think real realism—not the quasi-Marxist version so popular among the people who wear the label like a uniform—is impossible without taking into account notions of national honor. I don't mean national pride, which is a good thing in the colloquial sense even though technically speaking pride is a sin. Pride is self-directed, even self-centered. Honor is constraining because it requires following rules for what is right, when it comes at a price, including at times to our pride. As a matter of honor, we owe fidelity to our allies, to our commitments, to our frick'n word. You can disagree with Joe Biden's commitment to Ukraine, or to every president's commitment to NATO since Harry Truman, but those commitments were made—with the consent of voters and legislators—by America itself. I get that Trump thinks such commitments have no moral or political binding power over him, and as a constitutional matter there's some—not a lot, just some—truth to that. But America gave its word to our allies, and in a sense to our enemies, that we would stand by our obligations, by our treaties, by our word. Again, you can scoff at that. You can think honor is for suckers, as so many seem to do when it comes to everything from marriage vows to election results, to international alliances. But behaving dishonorably has a price. I don't mean to your soul, though I think that's obviously true. I mean as a matter of actual realpolitik. If America's word is deemed worthless, that will have geopolitical costs for generations to come. And if America behaves dishonorably on the world stage—and that dishonor is celebrated as glorious strength—it will change American character as well. Look at the deal Trump has tried to cram down the throats of the Ukrainians: It is vicious, cruel, and unworkably greedy. It's more onerous than the terms imposed on Germany after World War I, and far less defensible. But if, in an act of desperation, the Ukrainians actually agreed to it, Trump would celebrate the America First genius of the deal and so would all of his valets across the media and political landscape. And a large number of young people would come to believe that vampiric, imperialistic, cruelty, and betrayal are the essence of 'smart' conservative foreign policy. Trump's definition of a patriot—essentially someone who blindly follows Trump's dishonorable orders and little else—is the one Americans should take to heart. And America would be the worse for it. As Edmund Burke said, 'To make us love our country, our country ought to be lovely.' Likewise, to make us honor our country, our country ought to behave honorably. Canine Update: I apologize, I just got off a plane from Nashville. We had to circle the airport forever because there was a ground stop hold on landing because some 'VIP' was flying in the area. So I'm running late, and am really, really eager to get home to my wife and quadrupeds. Moreover, for some reason X is not loading for me. So I can't link to pics. But the girls are doing fine. They were very, very, displeased with my departure on Tuesday (as, frankly, was I). But basically everything is back to normal. I think Pippa is going to the groomer soon, so I expect her to file a grievance with Amnesty International and the ASPCA. Anyway, I'll catch you all up better on how it's going with them after I get to spend some real quality time this weekend. Owner's Name: Michael Carpenter Why I'm a Dispatch Member: I have been a Goldberg stan since I found his podcast The Remnant back in 2018ish and subsequently subscribed to National Review. As soon as The Dispatch started, I became a member here as well. I continue to be a Dispatch member because of the solid and non-hysterical reporting of the news as well as the excellent podcasts y'all produce. I'm a huge fan of the flagship podcast The Remnant as well as the niche legal podcast Advisory Opinions. Personal Details: I'm an assistant professor in hard science, a Christian, own a home, have a fantastic dog, and I'm single/never married. Ladies? Pet's Name: Adelaide Pet's Breed: 75 percent German Shepherd, 25 percent Belgian Malinois Pet's Age: 8 Gotcha Story: I started looking for a dog immediately after buying my first home in 2019. At the time, I lived in Minnesota where the pet adoption agencies require home visits and a lot of other nonsense. I had been complaining to my cousin, who lives in Yuma, Arizona, about all the hoops I had to jump through to get a dog. She works with a pet rescue agency there as well as doing pet training/kenneling with her husband. She laughed and told me that she could get me a dog. Right around the time the COVID lockdowns started, the adoption agency pushed me too far and I decided to stop pursuing adoption of a dog with them. My parents, who have taken to going South for the winter, were visiting my cousin in Yuma and got stranded there when the lockdowns started. After hearing about my experience, my cousin told me that she had the dog for me, and my parents could bring it to me when the lockdowns lifted. That's how I got Adelaide. She was found on the street, all her ribs were showing (she was 45 pounds when I got her—now she's about 55 pounds), and she had patches of fur missing. Pet's Likes: Walks, chasing her ball, running on the beach, tummy rubs, and treat time. She also loves to chase woodland creatures large and small but doesn't tend to murder them when she catches them. She particularly likes chasing lizards now that we are in Texas. Pet's Dislikes: Strangers. Anyone who approaches the house or might approach the house, talks too loudly near the house, or looks askance at the house. She also HATES the dog next door that always barks at us when we leave the house. Pet's Proudest Moment: The time she caught a squirrel, but her mouth is so soft that the squirrel was fine. She wasn't happy with me after I took it away from her and let it go. Bad Pet: Within the first couple of weeks of having her, she partly chewed through her leash, damaged a bedspread, and destroyed a door. She hasn't destroyed anything since, and I've even stopped kenneling her when I leave. Since I've had her, nobody has called her a bad dog. Do you have a quadruped you'd like to nominate for Dispawtcher of the Week and catapult to stardom? Let us know about your pet by clicking here. Reminder: You must be a Dispatch member to participate. —C.T.T —Peace in our time —Isgur in charge —Gorlami's salami —Variable Vance —Bad guys —Encounter with Elba —No soup for you! —Will the buckets be bigger? —Pride goeth before the fall —So that's where Jonah's been! —The Florida problem —28 documentaries later —International relations on ice —One of us!
