Missing Pieces of the Anti-Enlightenment Project

5–8 minutes

I’ve just added a new entry to my Anti-Enlightenment corpus, bringing the total to seven – not counting my latest book, The Illusion of Light, that summarises the first six essays and places them in context. This got me thinking about what aspects of critique I might be missing. Given this, what else might I be missing?

Audio: NotebookLM podcast discussion of this topic.

So far, I’ve touched on the areas in the top green table and am considering topics in the bottom red/pink table:

Summary Schema – The Anti-Enlightenment Project – Published Essays

AxisCore QuestionRepresentative Essay(s)
EpistemicWhat counts as “truth”?Objectivity Is Illusion: An Operating Model of Social and Moral Reasoning
PoliticalWhat holds power together?Rational Ghosts: Why Enlightenment Democracy Was Built to Fail; Temporal Ghosts: Tyranny of the Present
PsychologicalWhy do subjects crave rule?Against Agency: The Fiction of the Autonomous Self; The Will to Be Ruled: Totalitarianism and the Fantasy of Freedom
AnthropologicalWhat makes a “normal” human?The Myth of Homo Normalis: Archaeology of the Legible Human
EthicalHow to live after disillusionment?The Discipline of Dis-Integration: Philosophy Without Redemption

Summary Schema – The Anti-Enlightenment Project – Unpublished Essays

AxisCore QuestionRepresentative Essay
Theological (Metaphysical)What remains sacred once transcendence is dismantled?The Absent God: Metaphysics After Meaning
Aesthetic (Affective)How did beauty become moral instruction?The Aesthetic Contract: Beauty as Compliance
Ecological (Post-Human)What happens when the world refuses to remain in the background?The Uncounted World: Ecology and the Non-Human
Linguistic (Semiotic)How does language betray the clarity it promises?The Fractured Tongue: Language Against Itself
Communal (Social Ontology)Can there be community without conformity?The Vanished Commons: Between Isolation and Herd

Below is a summary of the essays already published. These are drawn verbatim from the Anti-Enlightenment Project page.

1. Objectivity Is Illusion: An Operating Model of Social and Moral Reasoning

Published September 2025

Objectivity, in the social and moral sense, is a performance – a consensus mechanism mistaken for truth. This essay maps how “objectivity” operates as a scaffold for Enlightenment rationality, masking moral preference as neutral judgment. It introduces a five-premise model showing that what we call objectivity is merely sustained agreement under shared illusions of coherence. The argument reframes moral reasoning as provisional and participatory rather than universal or fixed.

Read on Zenodo

2. Rational Ghosts: Why Enlightenment Democracy Was Built to Fail

Published October 2025
The Enlightenment built democracy for rational ghosts – imagined citizens who never existed. This essay dissects six contradictions at the foundation of “rational” governance and shows why democracy’s collapse was prewritten in its metaphysics. From mathematical impossibility to sociological blindness, it charts the crisis of coherence that modern politics still calls freedom.
Read on Zenodo

3. Temporal Ghosts: Tyranny of the Present

Published October 2025
Modern democracies worship the now. This essay examines presentism – the systemic bias toward immediacy – as a structural flaw of Enlightenment thinking. By enthroning rational individuals in perpetual “decision time,” modernity erased the unborn from politics. What remains is a political theology of the short term, collapsing both memory and imagination.
Read on Zenodo

4. Against Agency: The Fiction of the Autonomous Self

Published October 2025
“Agency” is not a metaphysical faculty – it’s an alibi. This essay dismantles the myth of the autonomous self and reframes freedom as differential responsiveness: a gradient of conditions rather than a binary of will. Drawing on philosophy, neuroscience, and decolonial thought, it argues for ethics as maintenance, not judgment, and politics as condition-stewardship.
Read on Zenodo

5. The Discipline of Dis-Integration: Philosophy Without Redemption

Published October 2025

This essay formalises Dis-Integrationism – a philosophical method that refuses synthesis, closure, and the compulsive need to “make whole.” It traces how Enlightenment reason, deconstruction, and therapy culture all share a faith in reintegration: the promise that what’s fractured can be restored. Against this, Dis-Integrationism proposes care without cure, attention without resolution – a discipline of maintaining the broken as broken. It closes the Anti-Enlightenment loop by turning critique into a sustained practice rather than a path to redemption.

Read on Zenodo

6. The Myth of Homo Normalis: Archaeology of the Legible Human

Published October 2025

Modernity’s most persistent myth is the “normal” human. This essay excavates how legibility – the drive to measure, categorise, and care – became a form of control. From Quetelet’s statistical man to Foucault’s biopower and today’s quantified emotion, Homo Normalis reveals the moral machinery behind normalisation. It ends with an ethics of variance: lucidity without repair, refusal without despair.

Read on Zenodo

7. The Will to Be Ruled: Totalitarianism and the Fantasy of Freedom

Published October 2025

This essay examines how the Enlightenment’s ideal of autonomy contains the seed of its undoing. The rational, self-governing subject – celebrated as the triumph of modernity – proves unable to bear the solitude it creates. As freedom collapses into exhaustion, the desire for direction re-emerges as devotion. Drawing on Fromm, Arendt, Adorno, Reich, Han, and Desmet, The Will to Be Ruled traces the psychological gradient from fear to obedience, showing how submission is moralised as virtue and even experienced as pleasure. It concludes that totalitarianism is not a deviation from reason but its consummation, and that only through Dis-Integrationism – an ethic of maintenance rather than mastery – can thought remain responsive as the light fades.

Read on Zenodo

Below are possible future topics for this series*

8. The Absent God: Metaphysics After Meaning

Axis: Theological / Metaphysical
Core Question: What remains sacred once transcendence is dismantled?

Concept:
This essay would trace how Enlightenment humanism replaced God with reason, only to inherit theology’s structure without its grace. It might read Spinoza, Kant’s moral law, and modern technocracy as secularised metaphysics – systems that still crave universal order.
Goal: To show that disenchantment never erased faith; it simply redirected worship toward cognition and control.
Possible subtitle: The Enlightenment’s Unconfessed Religion.

9. The Aesthetic Contract: Beauty as Compliance

Axis: Aesthetic / Affective
Core Question: How did beauty become moral instruction?

Concept:
From Kant’s Critique of Judgment to algorithmic taste cultures, aesthetic judgment serves social order by rewarding harmony and punishing dissonance. This essay would expose the politics of form – how beauty trains attention and regulates emotion.
Goal: To reclaim aesthetics as resistance, not refinement.
Possible subtitle: Why Modernity Needed the Beautiful to Behave.

10. The Uncounted World: Ecology and the Non-Human

Axis: Ecological / Post-Human
Core Question: What happens when the world refuses to remain background?

Concept:
Here you dismantle the Enlightenment split between subject and nature. From Cartesian mechanism to industrial rationalism, the natural world was cast as resource. This essay would align Dis-Integrationism with ecological thinking – care without mastery extended beyond the human.
Goal: To reframe ethics as co-maintenance within an unstable biosphere.
Possible subtitle: Beyond Stewardship: Ethics Without Anthropos.

11. The Fractured Tongue: Language Against Itself

Axis: Linguistic / Semiotic
Core Question: How does language betray the clarity it promises?

Concept:
Every Anti-Enlightenment text already hints at this: language as both the instrument and failure of reason. Drawing on Nietzsche, Derrida, Wittgenstein, and modern semiotics, this essay could chart the entropy of meaning – the collapse of reference that makes ideology possible.
Goal: To formalise the linguistic fragility underlying every rational system.
Possible subtitle: The Grammar of Collapse.

12. The Vanished Commons: Between Isolation and Herd

Axis: Communal / Social Ontology
Core Question: Can there be community without conformity?

Concept:
This would return to the psychological and political threads of The Will to Be Ruled, seeking a space between atomised autonomy and synchronized obedience. It might turn to Arendt’s notion of the world between us or to indigenous and feminist relational models.
Goal: To imagine a non-totalitarian togetherness – a responsive collective rather than a collective response.
Possible subtitle: The Ethics of the Incomplete We.

* These essays may never be published, but I share this here as a template to further advance the Anti-Enlightenment project and fill out the corpus.

The Anti-Enlightenment Project: A New Portal for Old Ghosts

1–2 minutes

The Enlightenment promised light. What it delivered was fluorescence – bright, sterile, and buzzing with the sound of its own reason.

The Anti-Enlightenment Project gathers a set of essays, fragments, and quotations tracing how that light dimmed – or perhaps was never as luminous as advertised. It’s less a manifesto than a map of disintegration: how agency became alibi, how reason became ritual, and how modernity mistook motion for progress.

The new Anti-Enlightenment page curates this ongoing project in one place:

  • Preprints and essays (Against Agency, Rational Ghosts, Temporal Ghosts, and others to follow)
  • Related reflections from Philosophics posts going back to 2019
  • A living index of quotations from Nietzsche to Wynter, tracing philosophy’s slow discovery that its foundation may have been sand all along

This isn’t a war on knowledge, science, or reason – only on their misappropriation as universal truths. The Anti-Enlightenment simply asks what happens when we stop pretending that the Enlightenment’s “light” was neutral, natural, or necessary.

It’s not reactionary. It’s diagnostic.

The Enlightenment built the modern world; the Anti-Enlightenment merely asks whether we mistook the glare for daylight.

Bayes in the Culture War: How Priors Become Prison Walls

3–5 minutes

Are you rational, or merely rehearsing your tribe’s catechism? Bayes’ theorem insists we should all update our beliefs the same way when presented with the same evidence. Yet in today’s political divide, identical events harden opposing convictions. The problem isn’t the math—it’s the priors. When your starting assumptions are inherited, acculturated, or indoctrinated, no amount of “evidence” will move you into enemy territory.

A Bayesian Sketch of the Divide

  • Let H be a contested claim (pick your poison: “the election was fair,” “immigration helps,” whatever).
  • People in Camp R and Camp B begin with different priors P_R(H) and P_B(H). That’s acculturation if you’re being polite, indoctrination if you’ve run out of patience.
  • They observe evidence E (news, a court ruling, a video clip, a statistic).
  • They update:

posterior odds = prior odds × P(H \mid E) = \frac{P(E \mid H) P(H)}{P(E)}

Except they don’t, not cleanly, because trust in sources warps the likelihoods.

Video: Jonny Thompson on Bayes’ Theorem.
I love Jonny’s content, which is why I reference it so often. He and I have such different philosophical worldviews. Vive la différence (or différance).

Why this locks in polarisation

1. Wildly different priors.
If Camp R starts at P_R(H)=0.8 and Camp B at P_B(H)=0.2, then even moderately pro-H evidence (say likelihood ratio LR = 3) yields:

  • R: prior odds 4:1 \rightarrow 12:1 \Rightarrow P(H \mid E)\approx 0.92
  • B: prior odds 1:4 \rightarrow 3:4 \Rightarrow P(H \mid E)\approx 0.43

Same evidence, one camp “settled,” the other still unconvinced. Repeat ad infinitum, preferably on primetime.

2. Identity-weighted likelihoods.
People don’t evaluate P(E \mid H); they evaluate P(E \mid H, \text{source I like}). Disconfirming evidence is down-weighted by a factor d<1. This is called “being rational” on your own planet and “motivated reasoning” on everyone else’s.

3. Different hypothesis sets.
Camps don’t just disagree on P(H); they entertain different Hs. If one side’s model includes “coordinated elite malfeasance” and the other’s does not, then identical data streams update into different universes.

4. Selective exposure = selection bias.
Evidence isn’t i.i.d.; it’s curated by feeds, friends, and fury. You are sampling from your own posterior predictive distribution and calling it “reality.”

5. Asymmetric loss functions.
Even if beliefs converged, choices won’t. If the social cost of dissent is high, the decision threshold moves. People report a “belief” that minimises ostracism rather than error.

6. No common knowledge, no convergence.
Aumann told us honest Bayesians with common priors and shared posteriors must agree. Remove either—common priors or the “we both know we both saw the same thing” bit—and you get the modern news cycle.

“Acculturation” vs “Indoctrination”

Same mechanism, different moral valence. Priors are installed by families, schools, churches, unions, algorithms. Call it culture if you approve of the installers; call it indoctrination if you don’t. The probability calculus doesn’t care. Your tribal totems do.

Two quick toy moves you can use in prose

  • Likelihood hacking:
    “When evidence arrives, the tribe doesn’t deny the datum; it edits the likelihoods. ‘If my side did it, it’s an outlier; if your side did it, it’s a pattern.’ This is not hypocrisy; it’s a parameter update where the parameter is loyalty.”
  • Posterior divergence despite ‘facts’:
    “Give two citizens the same court ruling. One updates towards legitimacy because courts are reliable; the other away from legitimacy because courts are captured. The ruling is constant; the trust vector is not.”

If one wanted to reduce the split (perish the thought)

  • Forecast, don’t opine. Run cross-camp prediction markets or calibration tournaments. Bayes behaves when you pay people for accuracy rather than performance art.
  • Adversarial collaboration. Force both sides to pre-register what evidence would move them and how much. If someone’s d for disconfirming evidence is effectively zero, you’ve identified faith, not inference.
  • Reference classes, not anecdotes. Pull arguments out of the single-case trap and into base-rate land. Yes, it’s boring. So is surgery, but people still do it.

The punchline

Polarisation isn’t the failure of reason; it’s what happens when reason is strapped to identity. Priors are social. Likelihoods are political. Posteriors are performative. You can call it acculturation if you want to feel civilised, indoctrination if you want to throw a brick, but either way you’re watching Bayes’ theorem run inside a culture war. The maths is sober; the humans are not.


The Truth About Truth, Revisited

6–9 minutes

“Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions.” — Nietzsche


Declaring the Problem

Most people say truth as if it were oxygen – obvious, necessary, self-evident. I don’t buy it.

Nietzsche was blunt: truths are illusions. My quarrel is only with how often we forget that they’re illusions.

My own stance is unapologetically non-cognitivist. I don’t believe in objective Truth with a capital T. At best, I see truth as archetypal – a symbol humans invoke when they need to rally, persuade, or stabilise. I am, if you want labels, an emotivist and a prescriptivist: I’m drawn to problems because they move me, and I argue about them because I want others to share my orientation. Truth, in this sense, is not discovered; it is performed.

The Illusion of Asymptotic Progress

The standard story is comforting: over time, science marches closer and closer to the truth. Each new experiment, each new refinement, nudges us toward Reality, like a curve bending ever nearer to its asymptote.

Chart 1: The bedtime story of science: always closer, never arriving.

This picture flatters us, but it’s built on sand.

Problem One: We have no idea how close or far we are from “Reality” on the Y-axis. Are we brushing against it, or still a light-year away? There’s no ruler that lets us measure our distance.

Problem Two: We can’t even guarantee that our revisions move us toward rather than away from it. Think of Newton and Einstein. For centuries, Newton’s physics was treated as a triumph of correspondence—until relativity reframed it as local, limited, provisional. What once looked like a step forward can later be revealed as a cul-de-sac. Our curve may bend back on itself.

Use Case: Newton, Einstein, and Gravity
Take gravity. For centuries, Newton’s laws were treated as if they had brought us into near-contact with Reality™—so precise, so predictive, they had to be true. Then Einstein arrives, reframes gravity not as a force but as the curvature of space-time, and suddenly Newton’s truths are parochial, a local approximation. We applauded this as progress, as if our asymptote had drawn tighter to Reality. But even Einstein leaves us with a black box: we don’t actually know what gravity is, only how to calculate its effects. Tomorrow another paradigm may displace relativity, and once again we’ll dutifully rebrand it as “closer to truth.” Progress or rhetorical re-baptism? The graph doesn’t tell us.

Chart 2: The comforting myth of correspondence: scientific inquiry creeping ever closer to Reality™, though we can’t measure the distance—or even be sure the curve bends in the right direction.

Thomas Kuhn was blunt about this: what we call “progress” is less about convergence and more about paradigm shifts, a wholesale change in the rules of the game. The Earth does not move smoothly closer to Truth; it lurches from one orthodoxy to another, each claiming victory. Progress, in practice, is rhetorical re-baptism.

Most defenders of the asymptotic story assume that even if progress is slow, it’s always incremental, always edging us closer. But history suggests otherwise. Paradigm shifts don’t just move the line higher; they redraw the entire curve. What once looked like the final step toward truth may later be recast as an error, a cul-de-sac, or even a regression. Newton gave way to Einstein; Einstein may yet give way to something that renders relativity quaint. From inside the present, every orthodoxy feels like progress. From outside, it looks more like a lurch, a stumble, and a reset.

Chart 3: The paradigm-gap view: what feels like progress may later look like regression. History suggests lurches, not lines, what we call progress today is tomorrow’s detour..

If paradigm shifts can redraw the entire map of what counts as truth, then it makes sense to ask what exactly we mean when we invoke the word at all. Is truth a mirror of reality? A matter of internal coherence? Whatever works? Or just a linguistic convenience? Philosophy has produced a whole menu of truth theories, each with its own promises and pitfalls—and each vulnerable to the same problems of rhetoric, context, and shifting meanings.

The Many Flavours of Truth

Philosophers never tire of bottling “truth” in new vintages. The catalogue runs long: correspondence, coherence, pragmatic, deflationary, redundancy. Each is presented as the final refinement, the one true formulation of Truth, though each amounts to little more than a rhetorical strategy.

  • Correspondence theory: Truth is what matches reality.
    Problem: we can never measure distance from “Reality™” itself, only from our models.
  • Coherence theory: Truth is what fits consistently within a web of beliefs.
    Problem: many mutually incompatible webs can be internally consistent.
  • Pragmatic theory: Truth is what works.
    Problem: “works” for whom, under what ends? Functionality is always perspectival.
  • Deflationary / Minimalist: Saying “it’s true that…” adds nothing beyond the statement itself.
    Problem: Useful for logic, empty for lived disputes.
  • Redundancy / Performative: “It is true that…” adds rhetorical force, not new content.
    Problem: truth reduced to linguistic habit.

And the common fallback: facts vs. truths. We imagine facts as hard little pebbles anyone can pick up. Hastings was in 1066; water boils at 100°C at sea level. But these “facts” are just truths that have been successfully frozen and institutionalised. No less rhetorical, only more stable.

So truth isn’t one thing – it’s a menu. And notice: all these flavours share the same problem. They only work within language-games, frameworks, or communities of agreement. None of them delivers unmediated access to Reality™.

Truth turns out not to be a flavour but an ice cream parlour – lots of cones, no exit.

Multiplicity of Models

Even if correspondence weren’t troubled, it collapses under the weight of underdetermination. Quine and Duhem pointed out that any body of evidence can support multiple competing theories.

Chart 4: orthodox vs. heterodox curves, each hugging “reality” differently

Hilary Putnam pushed it further with his model-theoretic argument: infinitely many models could map onto the same set of truths. Which one is “real”? There is no privileged mapping.

Conclusion: correspondence is undercut before it begins. Truth isn’t a straight line toward Reality; it’s a sprawl of models, each rhetorically entrenched.

Truth as Rhetoric and Power

This is where Orwell was right: “War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength.”

Image: INGSOC logo

Truth, in practice, is what rhetoric persuades.

Michel Foucault stripped off the mask: truth is not about correspondence but about power/knowledge. What counts as truth is whatever the prevailing regime of discourse allows.

We’ve lived it:

  • “The economy is strong”, while people can’t afford rent.
  • “AI will save us”, while it mainly writes clickbait.
  • “The science is settled” until the next paper unsettles it.

These aren’t neutral observations; they’re rhetorical victories.

Truth as Community Practice

Chart 5: Margin of error bands

Even when rhetoric convinces, it convinces in-groups. One group converges on a shared perception, another on its opposite. Flat Earth and Round Earth are both communities of “truth.” Each has error margins, each has believers, each perceives itself as edging toward reality.

Wittgenstein reminds us: truth is a language game. Rorty sharpens it: truth is what our peers let us get away with saying.

So truth is plural, situated, and always contested.

Evolutionary and Cognitive Scaffolding

Step back, and truth looks even less eternal and more provisional.

We spread claims because they move us (emotivism) and because we urge others to join (prescriptivism). Nietzsche was savage about it: truth is just a herd virtue, a survival trick.

Cognitive science agrees, if in a different language: perception is predictive guesswork, riddled with biases, illusions, and shortcuts. Our minds don’t mirror reality; they generate useful fictions.

Diagram: Perception as a lossy interface: Reality™ filtered through senses, cognition, language, and finally rhetoric – signal loss at every stage.

Archetypal Truth (Positive Proposal)

So where does that leave us? Not with despair, but with clarity.

Truth is best understood as archetypal – a construct humans rally around. It isn’t discovered; it is invoked. Its force comes not from correspondence but from resonance.

Here, my own Language Insufficiency Hypothesis bites hardest: all our truth-talk is approximation. Every statement is lossy compression, every claim filtered through insufficient words. We can get close enough for consensus, but never close enough for Reality.

Truth is rhetorical, communal, functional. Not absolute.

The Four Pillars (Manifesto Form)

  1. Archetypal – truth is a symbolic placeholder, not objective reality.
  2. Asymptotic – we gesture toward reality but never arrive.
  3. Rhetorical – what counts as truth is what persuades.
  4. Linguistically Insufficient – language guarantees slippage and error.

Closing

Nietzsche warned, Rorty echoed: stop fetishising Truth. Start interrogating the stories we tell in its name.

Every “truth” we now applaud may be tomorrow’s embarrassment. The only honest stance is vigilance – not over whether we’ve captured Reality™, but over who gets to decide what is called true, and why.

Truth has never been a mirror. It’s a mask. The only question worth asking is: who’s wearing it?

Cogito, Ergo… Who?

Everyone knows the line: cogito ergo sum. Descartes’ great party trick. A man alone in his study, fretting about demons, announces that because he’s doubting, he must exist. Ta-da! Curtain call. Except, of course, it’s less of a revelation than a conjuring trick: he pulls an I out of a hat that was never proved to be there in the first place. Thinking is happening, indeed – but who invited the “thinker”?

Video: David Guignion talks about Descartes’ Cogito.

And let’s not forget the dramatis personae Descartes smuggles in for atmosphere. A malicious demon, a benevolent God, both necessary props to justify his paranoia and his certainty. Philosophy as melodrama: cue organ music, lightning strike.

Audio: NotebookLM podcast on this topic.

Enter the Critics

Spinoza rolls his eyes. Doubt isn’t some heroic starting point, he says – it’s just ignorance, a lack of adequate ideas. To elevate doubt into method is like treating vertigo as a navigational tool. Error isn’t demonic trickery; it’s our own confusion.

Kant arrives next, shaking his head. Descartes thinks he’s proven a substantial “I,” but all he’s actually shown is the form of subjectivity – the empty requirement that experiences hang together. The “I think” is a necessary placeholder, not a discovery. A grammatical “you are here” arrow, not a metaphysical treasure chest.

Hegel, of course, can’t resist upping the disdain. Descartes’ I is an empty abstraction, a hollow balloon floating above reality. The self isn’t given in some solitary moment of doubt; it emerges through process – social, historical, dialectical. The cogito is the philosophical equivalent of a selfie: lots of certainty, zero depth.

The Insufficiency Twist

And yet, maybe all of them are still dancing to the same fiddler. Because here’s the real suspicion: what if the whole problem is a trick of language? English, with its bossy Indo-European grammar, refuses to let verbs stand alone. “Thinking” must have a “thinker,” “seeing” a “seer.” Grammar insists on a subject; ontology obediently provides one.

Other languages don’t always play this game. Sanskrit or Pali can shrug and say simply, “it is seen.” Japanese leaves subjects implied, floating like ghosts. Some Indigenous languages describe perception as relational events – “seeing-with-the-tree occurs” – no heroic subject required. So perhaps the real villain here isn’t Descartes or even metaphysics, but syntax itself, conscripting us into a subject-shaped theatre.

Now, I don’t want to come off like a one-trick pony, forever waving the flag of “language insufficiency” like some tired philosopher’s catchphrase. But we should be suspicious when our limited grammar keeps painting us into corners, insisting on perceivers where maybe there are only perceptions, conjuring selves because our verbs can’t tolerate dangling.

Curtain Call

So in the end, Descartes’ famous “I” might be no more than a grammatical fiction, a casting error in the great play of philosophy. The cogito isn’t the foundation of modern thought; it’s the world’s most influential typo.

The Red Flag of Truth

Nothing says “I’ve stopped thinking” quite like someone waving the banner of Truth. The word itself, when capitalised and flapped about like a holy relic, isn’t a signal of wisdom but of closure. A red flag.

The short video by Jonny Thompson that inspired this post.

Those who proclaim to “speak the Truth” or “know the Truth”rarely mean they’ve stumbled upon a tentative insight awaiting refinement. No, what they mean is: I have grasped reality in its totality, and—surprise!—it looks exactly like my prejudices. It’s the epistemic equivalent of a toddler declaring ownership of the playground by drooling on the swings.

The Fetish of Objectivity

The conceit is that Truth is singular, objective, eternal, a monolithic obelisk towering over human folly. But history’s scrapyard is full of such obelisks, toppled and broken: phlogiston, bloodletting, Manifest Destiny, “the market will regulate itself.” Each was once trumpeted as capital-T Truth. Each is now embarrassing clutter for the dustbin.

Still, the zealots never learn. Every generation delivers its own batch of peddlers, flogging their version of Truth as if it were snake oil guaranteed to cure ignorance and impotence. (Side effects may include dogmatism, authoritarianism, and an inability to read the room.)

Why It’s a Red Flag

When someone says, “It’s just the truth”, what they mean is “, I am not listening,” like the parent who argues, “because I said so.” Dialogue is dead; curiosity cremated. Truth, in their hands, is less a lantern than a cosh. It is wielded not to illuminate, but to bludgeon.

Ralph Waldo Emerson’s voice breaks in, urging us to trust ourselves and to think for ourselves. Nothing is more degrading than to borrow another’s convictions wholesale and parade them as universal law. Better to err in the wilderness of one’s own reason than to be shepherded safely into another man’s paddock of certainties.

A Better Alternative

Rather than fetishising Truth, perhaps we ought to cultivate its neglected cousins: curiosity, provisionality, and doubt. These won’t look as good on a placard, admittedly. Picture a mob waving banners emblazoned with Ambiguity! – not exactly the stuff of revolutions. But infinitely more honest, and infinitely more humane.

So when you see someone waving the flag of Truth, don’t salute. Recognise it for what it is: a warning sign. Proceed with suspicion, and for God’s sake, bring Emerson.

The Ethics of Feedback in an Algorithmic Age


We’ve entered an era where machines tell us how we’re doing, whether it’s an AI app rating our résumé, a model reviewing our fiction, or an algorithm nudging our attention with like-shaped carrots.

Full story here, from the Ridley side: Needle’s Edge: Scene Feedback 01

Recently, I ran a brutally raw scene through a few AI platforms. The kind of scene that’s meant to unsettle, not entertain. One of them responded with effusive praise: “Devastating, but masterfully executed.”

Was it honest?

Was it useful?

Or was it merely reflecting my own aesthetic back at me, polished by a thousand reinforcement-learning smiles?

This is the ethical dilemma: If feedback is always flattering, what good is it? If criticism is only tolerated when couched in praise, how do we grow? And when machine feedback mimics the politeness of a mid-level manager with performance anxiety, we risk confusing validation with truth.

There’s a difference between signal and applause. Between understanding and affirmation.

The danger isn’t that AI flatters us. The danger is that we start to believe it and forget that art, inquiry, and ethics thrive on friction.

Jordan Peterson: Derivative, Disingenuous, and (Hopefully) Done

I don’t like most of Jordan Peterson’s positions. There – I’ve said it. The man, once ubiquitous, seems to have faded into the woodwork, though no doubt his disciples still cling to his every word as if he were a modern-day oracle. But recently, I caught a clip of him online, and it dredged up the same bad taste, like stumbling upon an old, forgotten sandwich at the back of the fridge.

Audio: NotebookLM podcast on this topic

Let’s be clear. My distaste for Peterson isn’t rooted in petty animosity. It’s because his material is, in my view, derivative and wrong. And by wrong, I mean I disagree with him – a subtle distinction, but an important one. There’s nothing inherently shameful about being derivative. We all are, to some extent. No thinker sprouts fully-formed from the head of Zeus. The issue is when you’re derivative and act as if you’ve just split the atom of human insight.

Peterson tips his hat to Nietzsche – fair enough – but buries his far greater debt to Jung under layers of self-mythologising. He parades his ideas before audiences, many of whom lack the background to spot the patchwork, and gaslights them into believing they’re witnessing originality. They’re not. They’re witnessing a remixed greatest-hits album, passed off as a debut.

Image: Gratuitous, mean-spirited meme.

Now, I get it. My ideas, too, are derivative. Sometimes it’s coincidence – great minds and all that – but when I trace the thread back to its source, I acknowledge it. Nietzsche? Subjectivity of morality. Foucault? Power dynamics. Wittgenstein? The insufficiency of language. I owe debts to many more: Galen Strawson, Richard Rorty, Raymond Geuss – the list goes on, and I’d gladly share my ledger. But Peterson? The man behaves as though he invented introspection.

And when I say I disagree, let’s not confuse that with some claim to divine epistemic certainty. I don’t mean he’s objectively wrong (whatever that means in the grand circus of philosophy). I mean, I disagree. If I did, well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we? That’s the tragicomedy of epistemology: so many positions, so little consensus.

But here’s where my patience truly snaps: Peterson’s prescriptivism. His eagerness to spew what I see as bad ideology dressed up as universal truth. Take his stance on moral objectivism—possibly his most egregious sin. He peddles this as if morality were some Platonic form, gleaming and immutable, rather than what it is: a human construct, riddled with contingency and contradiction.

And let’s not even get started on his historical and philosophical cherry-picking. His commentary on postmodern thought alone is a masterclass in either wilful misreading or, more likely, not reading at all. Straw men abound. Bogeymen are conjured, propped up, and ritually slaughtered to rapturous applause. It’s intellectually lazy and, frankly, beneath someone of his ostensible stature.

I can only hope we’ve seen the last of this man in the public sphere. And if not? Well, may he at least reform his ways—though I shan’t be holding my breath.

Molyneux, Locke, and the Cube That Shook Empiricism

Few philosophical thought experiments have managed to torment empiricists quite like Molyneux’s problem. First posed by William Molyneux to John Locke in 1688 (published in Locke’s An Essay Concerning Human Understanding), the question is deceptively simple:

If a person born blind, who has learned to distinguish a cube from a sphere by touch, were suddenly granted sight, could they, without touching the objects, correctly identify which is the cube and which is the sphere by sight alone?

I was inspired to write this article in reaction to Jonny Thmpson’s post on Philosophy Minis, shared below for context.

Video: Molyneux’s Problem

Locke, ever the champion of sensory experience as the foundation of knowledge, gave a confident empiricist’s answer: no. For Locke, ideas are the products of sensory impressions, and each sense provides its own stream of ideas, which must be combined and associated through experience. The newly sighted person, he argued, would have no prior visual idea of what a cube or sphere looks like, only tactile ones; they would need to learn anew how vision maps onto the world.

Audio: NotebookLM podcast on this topic.

This puzzle has persisted through centuries precisely because it forces us to confront the assumptions at the heart of empiricism: that all knowledge derives from sensory experience and that our senses, while distinct, can somehow cohere into a unified understanding of the world.

Empiricism, Epistemology, and A Priori Knowledge: The Context

Before we dismantle the cube further, let’s sweep some conceptual debris out of the way. Empiricism is the view that knowledge comes primarily (or exclusively) through sensory experience. It stands opposed to rationalism, which argues for the role of innate ideas or reason independent of sense experience.

Epistemology, the grandiloquent term for the study of knowledge, concerns itself with questions like: What is knowledge? How is it acquired? Can we know anything with certainty?

And then there is the spectre of a priori knowledge – that which is known independent of experience. A mathematical truth (e.g., 2 + 2 = 4) is often cited as a classic a priori case. Molyneux’s problem challenges empiricists because it demands an account of how ideas from one sensory modality (touch) might map onto another (vision) without prior experience of the mapping—an a priori leap, if you will.

The Language Correspondence Trap

While Molyneux and Locke framed this as an epistemological riddle, we can unmask it as something more insidious: a failure of language correspondence. The question presumes that the labels “cube” and “sphere” – tied in the blind person’s mind to tactile experiences – would, or should, carry over intact to the new visual experiences. But this presumption smuggles in a linguistic sleight of hand.

The word “cube” for the blind person means a specific configuration of tactile sensations: edges, vertices, flat planes. The word “sphere” means smoothness, unbroken curvature, no edges. These are concepts anchored entirely in touch. When vision enters the fray, we expect these words to transcend modalities – to leap from the tactile to the visual, as if their meanings were universal tokens rather than context-bound markers. The question is not merely: can the person see the cube? but rather: can the person’s tactile language map onto the visual world without translation or recalibration?

What Molyneux’s problem thus exposes is the assumption that linguistic labels transparently correspond to external reality, regardless of sensory apparatus. This is the mirage at the heart of Locke’s empiricism, the idea that once a word tags an object through experience, that tag is universally valid across sensory experiences. The cube and sphere aren’t just objects of knowledge; they are signs, semiotic constructs whose meaning depends on the sensory, social, and linguistic contexts in which they arise.

The Semiotic Shambles

Molyneux’s cube reveals the cracks in the correspondence theory of language: the naïve belief that words have stable meanings that latch onto stable objects or properties in the world. In fact, the meaning of “cube” or “sphere” is as much a product of sensory context as it is of external form. The newly sighted person isn’t merely lacking visual knowledge; they are confronted with a translation problem – a semantic chasm between tactile signification and visual signification.

If, as my Language Insufficiency Hypothesis asserts, language is inadequate to fully capture and transmit experience across contexts, then Molyneux’s problem is not an oddity but an inevitability. It exposes that our conceptual frameworks are not universal keys to reality but rickety bridges between islands of sense and meaning. The cube problem is less about empiricism’s limits in epistemology and more about its blind faith in linguistic coherence.

In short, Molyneux’s cube is not simply an empirical puzzle; it is a monument to language’s failure to correspond cleanly with the world, a reminder that what we call knowledge is often just well-worn habit dressed up in linguistic finery.

A Final Reflection

Molyneux’s problem, reframed through the lens of language insufficiency, reveals that our greatest epistemic challenges are also our greatest linguistic ones. Before we can speak of knowing a cube or sphere by sight, we must reckon with the unspoken question: do our words mean what we think they mean across the changing stage of experience?

That, dear reader, is the cube that haunts empiricism still.

Speculative Philosophy on Screen: Identity, Agency, and the Fiction of Reality

Close-up of a human eye with digital glitch effects and overlaid text reading 'What if reality is wrong?'—a visual metaphor for distorted perception and unreliable truth.

Regular readers know I often write about identity, free will, and the narrative constraints of language. But I also explore these ideas through fiction, under the name Ridley Park.

In this short video, I unpack the philosophical motivations behind my stories, including:

  • Why reality is never as it seems
  • Why the self is a narrative convenience
  • What Heidegger’s Geworfenheit and Galen Strawson’s Causa Sui argument reveal about agency
  • And why language fails us – even when we think it serves

This isn’t promotional fluff. It’s epistemological dissent in a new format. Fictional, yes, but only in the sense that most of reality is, too.

▶️ Watch the video: Why I Write the Way I Do