He doesn‘t, but he accidentally demonstrates the problem.
There is a certain kind of person who loathes Nietzsche for the same reason they loathe earthquakes. Not because he causes damage, but because he refuses to pretend the ground was ever stable.
In a recent address, Mark Carney says something that would have been unutterable in polite company a decade ago. He admits that the ‘rules-based international order’ was always a partial fiction. Not false enough to abandon, not true enough to believe in without effort. A story everyone knew was cracked, but which continued to function so long as enough people kept repeating the lines.
“We knew that the story about the rules-based order was partially false… We knew that international law applied with varying rigour depending on the identity of the accused and the victim. This fiction was useful [because of the goods provided by American hegemony]… So we placed the sign in the window. We participated in the rituals. And we largely avoided calling out the gaps between rhetoric and reality. This bargain no longer works. Let me be direct. We are in the midst of a rupture, not a transition… You cannot live within the lie of mutual benefit through integration when integration becomes the source of your subordination.“
Audio: NotebookLM podcast of this topic.
International law, he concedes, applied unevenly. Power decided enforcement. Friends received nuance. Enemies received principle. This was not ignorance. It was a bargain. The illusion delivered goods, stability, growth, a sense of moral hygiene. So the sign stayed in the window. The rituals continued. The gaps between rhetoric and reality were politely ignored. That bargain, Carney says, no longer works.
This is framed as geopolitical realism, but it is really an ontological admission. The mask slipped, and everyone is suddenly offended by the face underneath.
Image: NotebookLM infographic of this content.
This is why people hate Friedrich Nietzsche. Not because he celebrates cruelty or chaos, but because he insists that order is something we perform, not something we discover. He refuses the comfort of believing that the rules were ever neutral, universal, or self-enforcing. He points at the scaffolding and says: this is what is holding things up, not the sky.
When enough people play along, the game feels like reality. When someone refuses to play, panic sets in.
Enter Donald Trump. Trump did not invent the asymmetries of power. He refused to speak them politely. This created a moral crisis for institutions built on the assumption that everyone would continue to pretend. When a designated enemy like Vladimir Putin does this, it is filed under Evil. When an ally does it, the response bifurcates: either frantic appeasement, or embarrassed silence disguised as strategy.
Image: Foreignsentiment
Carney tries to walk a middle path. He neither genuflects nor detonates the stage. He acknowledges the fiction without fully abandoning it. This makes him interesting, but also symptomatic. He wants the audience to notice the set wobbling without asking them to leave the theatre.
When he says the old rules-based order is not coming back, what he really means is that the illusion has been interrupted. Whether permanently or only until someone builds a more convincing façade is left diplomatically unresolved. This is where Nietzsche becomes unavoidable.
People often lump Nietzsche together with vague talk of “power,” as though this were a crude obsession shared with Michel Foucault. But Nietzsche’s contribution is sharper and more unsettling. He is not merely describing power as something exercised. He is describing power as something that manufactures meaning, legitimacy, and moral vocabulary after the fact. Power does not break the rules. It writes them retroactively and calls them eternal.
This is the kind of power later adopted by Adolf Hitler, by Putin, and now by Trump. Not brute force alone, but the refusal to treat inherited norms as sacred simply because they are inherited. This is precisely what terrifies people who mistake procedural continuity for moral truth.
The United States borrowed Montesquieu’s separation of powers as though it were a lock rather than a suggestion. Anyone paying attention could see how easily it could be gamed. That this came as a shock says less about constitutional brilliance than about selective vision. The system functioned not because it was impregnable, but because its participants agreed, tacitly, to behave as though it were.
Nietzsche would call this decadence. Not decline as catastrophe, but decline as denial. The refusal to look directly at the conditions that make order possible, preferring instead to moralise their breakdown.
Carney’s speech is not radical. It is late. It says aloud what everyone already knew but preferred not to articulate: that the world was never neat, the order never neutral, and the rules never binding on those strong enough to ignore them.
What comes next is the uncomfortable part. Once the illusion is acknowledged, it cannot simply be re-believed. You can rebuild institutions. You can repaint the signage. But you cannot unknow that the coffee was always bitter.
Nietzsche does not tell us what replaces the façade. He only insists that pretending it was ever a window onto truth is the most dangerous fiction of all.
What Carney inadvertently demonstrates is not a failure of leadership but a failure of language. ‘Rules-based order’ was never a description of the world; it was a map we mistook for the terrain because it worked often enough to feel true. Nietzsche’s crime was pointing at the legend and saying it was doing the real work. Once that admission is made, you do not get to return to innocence. You can draw a new map, call it reform, integration, or renewal, but you will know it is a diagram pinned to power, not a window onto justice. The unease people feel now is not about chaos. It is about recognition. The lie no longer holds because too many have noticed the pins.
Although the rating was not bad – 3.8 as of this writing – the reviews told a different story.
The first half of the book was worthwhile as it was a thought provoking description of how early societies may have developed social systems to encourage group cooperation and discourage harmful behaviors. The second half however was a rambling, preachy, and judgemental dissertation on postmodernism using the all too familiar tropes of social justice dialog. Overall it was poorly written though some of that may be due to translation. There is too little useful material here to justify its purchase.
Firstly, this version is from a German edition. Some people feel that some structure and communication value was lost in translation. In any case, he’s accused of being verbose and circumlocutory.
Amazon describes this book as “a sweeping history,” but the only thing sweeping about it was what I wanted to do with it under the nearest rug.
Secondly, it may be somewhat derivative of Nietzsche’s work on the same topic.
The book is rambling and incoherent, the author makes wild assertions about things that happened before recorded history, leaps from one train of thought to another, poo poos the ideas of religion but frequently quotes Nietzsche as the infallible source of knowledge…
Tonyo (reviewer)
In any case, the topic interests me, but I don’t see myself reading it any time soon.
Follows is another AutoCrit1 review of my current focus—working title: Democracy: The Grand Illusion, affectionately called Dumocracy.
Synopsis
The chapter “Vote Against Democracy, Say ‘Nay'” delves into a comprehensive exploration of the critiques posed by prominent intellectuals and philosophers throughout history regarding democratic systems. The opening sets the stage by quoting Winston Churchill’s famous line: “The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.” This quote immediately introduces a critical perspective on democracy, foreshadowing the in-depth analysis to come.
“The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.”
The text then proceeds to examine various historical figures’ criticisms of democracy, ranging from Plato’s concerns about mob rule to Tocqueville’s observations about mediocrity in democratic societies. Each thinker’s critique is dissected and analyzed, shedding light on the potential pitfalls and limitations of democratic governance. From elitism and failures within democracies to warnings about the tyranny of the majority and challenges with meritocracy, each section offers valuable insights into different aspects of democratic systems.
As the text progresses towards its conclusion, it synthesizes these diverse critiques while acknowledging both strengths and weaknesses inherent in democratic ideals. It culminates by emphasizing that despite its flaws, democracy remains one of the best available forms of government—a sentiment encapsulated in Winston Churchill’s famous remark: “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all others that have been tried.” This closing statement reinforces a pragmatic understanding of democracy while encouraging ongoing reflection on how to refine and improve democratic governance models.
“Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all others that have been tried.”
Winston Churchill
In essence, “Vote Against Democracy, Say ‘Nay'” presents a nuanced examination of historical critiques surrounding democracy that challenge readers to critically assess both the virtues and vulnerabilities embedded within this prevalent system of governance.
Audience
audience for this text appears to be individuals interested in political theory, philosophy, and the complexities of democratic governance. Those who are engaged in scholarly or academic discussions surrounding democracy, its critiques, and potential reforms would likely find this text highly relevant. The detailed exploration of historical perspectives from prominent figures like Plato, Aristotle, Churchill, Nietzsche, and Tocqueville provides a comprehensive overview for readers with an interest in political thought.
However, individuals seeking a more general overview or introductory understanding of democracy may find the text overly intricate and specialized. To make it more accessible to a broader audience outside academia or political theory enthusiasts, the author could consider simplifying complex philosophical concepts into more digestible language. Additionally, providing real-world examples or contemporary case studies illustrating the practical implications of these critiques could help engage a wider range of readers who may not have prior knowledge of political theory. Incorporating clear summaries at key points throughout the text can also aid in enhancing readability and comprehension for those less familiar with the subject matter.
Structure and Organisation
The text follows a logical order and is well-organized. Each critique of democracy by the different intellectuals is presented in a structured manner, with clear transitions between each section. The text flows smoothly from one critique to the next, providing a comprehensive overview of various perspectives on democratic governance without any apparent issues of structure or organization.
Clarity
The author’s points are generally presented clearly throughout the text. Complex ideas and critiques of democracy are explained in a structured manner, making it easier for readers to follow the arguments presented by each thinker. However, there are instances where additional clarification or simplification could enhance reader understanding:
In the section discussing Joseph Schumpeter’s elitist theory of democracy, some readers may find the concept of democracy as a competitive struggle for votes rather than genuine self-governance by the masses somewhat challenging to grasp without further elaboration on how this dynamic operates within democratic systems.
The discussion on Michel Foucault’s critique of democracy introduces terms like biopolitics and power structures that may require more explicit definitions or examples to help readers unfamiliar with these concepts fully comprehend their significance within democratic contexts.
Audre Lorde’s critique focusing on intersectionality and democratic inclusion touches upon complex social dynamics that might benefit from clearer illustrations or real-world applications to elucidate how these issues manifest in practice within democratic institutions.
Overall, while the text effectively conveys nuanced critiques of democracy by various thinkers, providing more concrete examples or simplified explanations in certain sections could enhance clarity for readers less familiar with political theory and philosophy.
Commentary
I may address these aspects with footnotes as this background information is at times extensive and in any case available elsewhere.
Argument and Persuasion
The text presents a range of opinions critiquing democratic systems from various thinkers such as Plato, Aristotle, Alexis de Tocqueville, Friedrich Nietzsche, Winston Churchill, Joseph Schumpeter, Simone Weil, Michel Foucault, and Audre Lorde. These critiques cover themes like elitism in governance (Plato), the importance of moderation (Aristotle), concerns about tyranny of the majority (Tocqueville), critique of egalitarianism (Nietzsche), pragmatic view on democracy’s flaws and strengths (Churchill), elitist theory emphasizing competition for votes over self-governance by masses (Schumpeter), highlighting failures to address spiritual needs and rootedness in society (Weil) and understanding how democratic institutions can perpetuate subtle forms of control through power structures embedded within knowledge frameworks.
Each thinker presents their arguments with logical reasoning and supporting evidence drawn from historical contexts or philosophical principles. The strength lies in the diversity of perspectives offered which enriches the discourse on democracy by exploring its complexities from different angles. By addressing issues like potential mediocrity in democracies or challenges with inclusivity for marginalized groups within democratic systems these critiques prompt critical reflection on areas where improvements may be needed.
Overall, the persuasive elements are well-supported through references to original texts or established theories. The logical construction is evident as each opinion is presented coherently with relevant examples or theoretical frameworks backing them up.
Tone
The text presents a range of emotional perspectives, reflecting both critical analyses and nuanced reflections on democratic systems. The tone varies from sober contemplation to impassioned critique, showcasing a mix of scepticism, concern, pragmatism, and urgency. Each author’s perspective evokes emotions such as caution (Plato), moderation (Aristotle), wariness (Tocqueville), disdain for egalitarianism (Nietzsche), pragmatic acknowledgement of flaws (Churchill), elitist realism (Schumpeter), longing for rootedness and community (Simone Weil), critical examination of power structures (Foucault) and call for inclusivity and justice for marginalized groups (Audre Lorde). These emotional tones collectively create a rich tapestry that challenges conventional views on democracy while urging readers to consider the complexities inherent in governance systems.
Interest and Engagement
The text presents a wide range of critiques on democracy from various historical and philosophical perspectives, which can be engaging for readers interested in political theory. The inclusion of notable figures such as Plato, Aristotle, Alexis de Tocqueville, Friedrich Nietzsche, Winston Churchill, Joseph Schumpeter, Simone Weil, Michel Foucault, and Audre Lorde adds depth and credibility to the discussion.
However, due to the detailed nature of each critique presented in the text and the extensive references to specific works by these thinkers, some sections may become dense or overwhelming for readers who are not well-versed in political philosophy. To improve engagement in these sections:
Simplify Complex Ideas: Break down complex concepts into more digestible segments that are easier for a broader audience to understand.
Provide Contextual Explanations: Offer brief explanations or summaries before delving into each critique to provide context for readers unfamiliar with the philosophers’ works.
Use Analogies or Real-World Examples: Illustrate abstract ideas with relatable examples or analogies that help clarify their relevance in contemporary society.
Incorporate Visual Aids: Consider using diagrams or visual aids to enhance understanding of intricate theories and make them more accessible.
By incorporating these strategies throughout the text when discussing challenging concepts from different critiques on democracy by prominent theorists such as Plato’s “The Republic,” Aristotle’s “Politics,” Tocqueville’s “Democracy in America,” Nietzsche’s concept of the Übermensch (Overman), Churchill’s pragmatic observations on democracy being “the worst form of government except all others,” Schumpeter’s elitist theory of democracy emphasizing competition among elites for votes rather than direct self-governance by all citizens; Weil’s focus on rootedness and community needs within democratic systems; Foucault’s analysis on power structures within democracies perpetuating control; Lorde’s intersectionality critique highlighting exclusionary practices towards marginalized groups—the author could maintain reader interest while navigating through intricate discussions surrounding democratic governance across history and philosophy.
Commentary
I plan to incorporate some visual and diagrammatic aids, but AutoCrit cannot evaluate this type of content.
Final Thoughts and Conclusions
The text ends with a comprehensive and cohesive conclusion that effectively ties together the various critiques of democratic systems presented by Plato, Aristotle, Alexis de Tocqueville, Friedrich Nietzsche, Winston Churchill, Joseph Schumpeter, Simone Weil, Michel Foucault, and Audre Lorde. The final thoughts provide a reflective summary of the challenges inherent in democratic governance while emphasizing the need for ongoing reflection and improvement within democratic systems. The concluding section successfully synthesizes the diverse perspectives on democracy discussed throughout the text.
AutoCrit is an AI-based editorial application. I am a member of their affiliate programme, so I gain minor financial benefits at no cost to you if you purchase through a link on this page. ↩︎
Churchill is not on record having said this, but the sentiment remains. ↩︎
Identity is a fiction; it doesn’t exist. It’s a contrivance, a makeshift construct, a label slapped on to an entity with some blurry amalgam of shared experiences. But this isn’t just street wisdom; some of history’s sharpest minds have said as much.
“There are no facts, only interpretations.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Think about Hume, who saw identity as nothing more than a bundle of perceptions, devoid of any central core. Or Nietzsche, who embraced the chaos and contradictions within us, rejecting any fixed notion of self.
Edmund Dantes chose to become the Count of Monte Cristo, but what choice do we have? We all have control over our performative identities, a concept that Judith Butler would argue isn’t limited to gender but applies to the very essence of who we are.
“I don’t feel that it is necessary to know exactly what I am. The main interest in life and work is to become someone else that you were not in the beginning.”
— Michel Foucault
But here’s the kicker, identities are a paradox. Just ask Michel Foucault, who’d say our sense of self is shaped not by who we are but by power, society, and external forces.
You think you know who you are? Well, Erik Erikson might say your identity’s still evolving, shifting through different stages of life. And what’s “normal” anyway? Try to define it, and you’ll end up chasing shadows, much like Derrida’s deconstruction of stable identities.
“No such things as selves exist in the world: Nobody ever was or had a self.”
— Thomas Metzinger
“He seemed like a nice man,” how many times have we heard that line after someone’s accused of a crime? It’s a mystery, but Thomas Metzinger might tell you that the self is just an illusion, a by-product of the brain.
Nations, they’re the same mess. Like Heraclitus’s ever-changing river, a nation is never the same thing twice. So what the hell is a nation, anyway? What are you defending as a nationalist? It’s a riddle that echoes through history, resonating with the philosophical challenges to identity itself.
“I never can catch myself at any time without a perception, and never can observe anything but the perception.”
— David Hume
If identity and nations are just made-up stories, what’s all the fuss about? Why do people get so worked up, even ready to die, for these fictions? Maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s pride, or maybe it’s because, as Kierkegaard warned, rationality itself can seem mad in a world gone astray.
In a world where everything’s shifting and nothing’s set in stone, these fictions offer some solid ground. But next time you’re ready to go to the mat for your identity or your nation, take a minute and ask yourself: what the hell am I really fighting for? What am I clinging to?
Philosophics 