The Banality of Modern Business — Part 3: The Superficiality Society
An anomalistic book review of László Kővári’s Critical Thinking?
„Ein leichtes Leben, eine leichte Liebe, ein leichter Tod — das war nichts für mich.“ -
Hermann Hesse in Steppenwolf
Continued from: Part 2 — The Desecration
The Superficiality Society
The tension between the true inner self and the untrue exterior is reaching its apex. To avoid tension, one remains on the surface (“pragmatism”) and ignores the depth. Paradoxically, people without a capacity or willingness to engage in deeper self-reflection will congregate (mostly unconsciously) to celebrate and maintain the going concern of the system, even indignantly rejecting criticism aimed at the latter, mainly to avoid the effort and terror of facing depth.
The consensus of the modern superficiality society, the Oberflächigkeitgesellschaft, is the paranoid avoidance of depth. This consensus manifests itself in the ubiquitous shallowness and acceleration in all areas of life, including politics, dating, work, media, even “art”. The demotion of the latter to mere entertainment, industrial design, or a purely ideological agenda is probably one of the most worrisome phenomena of our times. Art is pure: its raison d’être is to petition the depth and transform the inherently ephemeral nature of the metaphysical into stimuli that have the potential to create a similar impression in its recipients. In the absence of critical thinking, people eagerly embrace superficial (political or business) slogans or diluted, artificially concocted ingredients of identity emblazoned with corporate seals. Depth is either ignored or, even worse, simulated. This gives rise to a mutually reinforcing initiative: a large portion of the economy is based on evading depth, spawning Potemkin villages in all aspects of life, structures whose builders and tenants live in the same, mutually assured, self-illusion.
Furthermore, simulation becomes the antidote to the pain stemming from the lack of authenticity. Today the virtual/artificial is converging with the real/organic on the surface, while tomorrow the two will seem almost indistinguishable for an ordinary person. Lies already appear to be truth (beer without alcohol, news without information, sex with a robot, hamburger without meat, cars without drivers, democracy without true participation, etc.): the simulated thrills of risk without actual risk, the mere surface of an empty existence without truth and substance. Someone might ejaculate in the artificial vagina of an android, boasting his temperance, while masquerading as an immaculate virgin.
Postmodernity offers the Faustian deal of not having to take personal risks for the sake of values, unless you willingly subject yourself to the consensus. The price of this deal is the loss of dignity — the more “intellectual” the “work” is, the higher the degree of corruption. However, if you dare to challenge the underlying concepts of the system itself, you end up being ostracised. In communist Central-Eastern Europe, highly qualified people were often constrained to do physical work or to work under the supervision of managers promoted from the proletariat. Today you simply end up in the queue of the soup kitchen — and most will malevolently point a finger at you, shouting that you deserve your fate. This is why postmodern authoritarian regimes understood that neoliberal capitalism and consumer society were a perfect fit for a centralised political system. Institutionalised cowardice, a lacklustre approach to intellectual effort, the ignorance of depth, and the resulting insatiable hunger for a virtual reality to fill the void makes the masses cry for a propagandistic answer from the political and business elites. As long as you work, consume, do not exercise critical thinking and avoid to aspire to transcend the omnipresent materialism, you can enjoy the benefits of the system. Everyone can pick their personalised illusion of “fulfilment”, “progress”, “dignity”, “rebellion”, “identity”, combined with consequently worthless virtue signalling. Yet, behind the decorative façade yawns the bottomless emptiness of a cellar filled with the damp and chilly air of slavery, where sovereignty once reigned (or never did).
The Techno-Utopian Hubris
Kővári provides daunting examples of the hubris of modern technologists, de facto neo-materialists with a moralistic zeal (as they are not even aware of the true pillars of their moralism, I intentionally do not use the word “morality” in this regard). They believe (first oxymoron) that every aspect of life is a mere computational problem. Hence, if they think hard enough, they can “reach” (understand, even become) God. This is another obvious oxymoron, as the metaphysical lies beyond (meta) the physical and rationally comprehensible world, and can never be reproduced with an algorithm (the very concept of which belongs to this world).
Paradoxically, the abstract and arbitrary concept of the individual is glorified in the context of a universalistic vision of humanity (in strictly material and behavioural terms). One can handpick elements of identity à la carte from a pre-approved ingredient list. As the road is seemingly paved to create an “algorithmised” and “optimised” mass of pseudo-individuals, the flesh-and-blood and consequently “imperfect” human is deprived of dignity. Thus, such a quest will eventually crush the individual it purportedly cherishes. To overcome evident contradictions posed by the irrational aspect of modernism, many self-appointed “visionaries” from the business world have begun to contemplate the notion of transhumanism, an epitome of the moral and intellectual degeneration consequent to the abandonment of fundamental principles. In their quest to vanquish metaphysical aspirations, they have also started to expropriate and vulgarise the remaining vocabulary of the metaphysical domain (“evangelise”, “cults”, “prophets”, etc.).
One hideous example of the aforementioned hubris is “artificial intelligence” that “creates art” or “designs fashion items”, although these are clearly mere simulations based on a quantitative analysis of existing patterns and a random assignment of their characteristics to new, randomly generated patterns. However, the masses embrace the phenomenon as creativity, as they already consume hollow and superficial, intellectually and aesthetically degrading immaterial “goods” every single day — thus, many have never developed their sense of quality and authenticity. Modern society doesn’t even raise such requirements: you are required to be functional, and beyond that, you are free — whatever freedom means. In the context of the consumer society, freedom is equivalent to a range of “having fun” options between going to the mall or to the bar, or when ordinary stimuli is insufficient, jumping out of an airplane — all serving the need of regeneration for further toil within the reliable framework of the civilisational zoo, where amenities are abundant (for the compliant), while actions and thinking are painfully limited and predictable due to domestication. Viviamo tutti nello zoo.
“The Society You So Eagerly Wish’d”
In the artificial context of modern business (and the society dominated by the former), any organic deviation from the top-down standards appears to be radicalism or pathology. As the Hungarian psychologist Péter Popper (whose genuine wisdom led him to develop a profound doubt in psychology itself) once said in a presentation: biblical prophets and saints would probably be hospitalised today. In the context of the profane, anything non-utilitarian is senseless — as long as we define sense in terms of utility.
The Tragedy of Man, a drama written by Imre Madách in the middle of the 19th century, was “the best modern parable of progress” according to an article published in The Economist (6). After Adam and Eve are cast out of Paradise, Adam repudiates God and, accompanied by Lucifer, decides to pursue his own vision for humanity. He witnesses a series of historical scenes, each of which profoundly disappoints him (such as the cruel slavery underpinning the majesty of the Egyptian pyramids or the unjust condemnation of Socrates in democratic Athens). Finally, Lucifer brings the human couple to the “scientifically” designed, utopian society of the phalanstery, where people fulfil roles according to central directives and perform their functional activities in a hive-like community. In this world (how familiar!), anything beyond the functional is superfluous and wasteful. However, a utopia for one is a dystopia for another: Adam is horrified to see Michelangelo constrained to making chair legs and Plato punished for daydreaming. Ironically (as Plato advocated the necessity of a society led by illuminated experts), Adam exclaims:
“What a poor part you have, ah, Platon in / The society you so eagerly wish’d!”
Yet, social utopists, the “nudgers” (i.e., Richard Thaler), and Silicon Valley’s self-appointed and presumptuous geek prophets are intent on manipulating the world towards an “illuminated” version of Plato’s ideal state, supercharged with arbitrary moralism, the arrogance of “knowing better” and universalistic ambition, all — executed with the unprecedented potential of technology. Hence, the neoliberal economic order embraces the utopian vision of idealistic universalism, a combination which almost inevitably breeds dystopia, severely mangling the very humanity both were supposed to serve. The aforementioned mentality permeates every aspect of public and private life, leaving only remote islands, where intellectual and economic freedom can overlap.
Belonging to Eternity
László Kővári’s book is deeply unsettling and very timely, as worthy reads should be. It completely lacks the nauseating air of contemporary business books that are generally limited by the presumptions of the domain they seek to challenge. Quite the contrary, Kővári’s line of thought brings about a delirium that may cause everlasting ripples in the receptive reader’s worldview. Such “thoughtquakes” offer an excellent opportunity to rearrange one’s intellectual foundations. Kővári’s reasoning is a source of inspiration to continue the uncompromising search for truth, even though the task is probably insurmountable for any of us.
Yet, to abandon the intellectual and moral struggle of the search and to accept the hypocrisy of false idols, to hollow out once lively and meaningful forms of human cooperation, to reduce leaders to mere managers and thinkers to analysts, to substitute creation with “content generation”, to replace flesh-and-blood human alliances with impersonal contracts arbitrated by bureaucrats, to dilute the divine Word to “copywriting”, to depreciate the delicate amor divino sang by Dante Alighieri to industrialised self-prostitution, to replace artistic beauty with commercialised kitsch and inquisitive depth with decorative superficiality, etc. — would constitute not only failure, but a mortal sin against humanity.
Can one ever become an authentic person without becoming an outcast or ridiculed idealist? Or is the purity of the soul, the proud aspiration of the “intellectual aristocrat” of Julius Evola destined to be shattered on the rocks of reality? Let us heed Herman Hesse’s words from Steppenwolf. At one point in the novel, Hermine the courtesan tries to offer meagre consolation to her friend Harry Haller, as he suffers from his perennial misalignment with society:
“(…) I am thinking now of your favourite, of whom you have talked to me sometimes, and read me, too, some of his letters, of Mozart. How was it with him in his day? Who controlled things in his times and ruled the roost and gave the tone and counted for something? Was it Mozart or the business people, Mozart or the average man? And in what fashion did he come to die and be buried? (…) It has always been so and always will be. Time and the world, money and power belong to the small people and the shallow people. To the rest, to the real men belongs nothing. Nothing but death.”
“Nothing else?”
“Yes, eternity.”
(6): The idea of progress; Onwards and upwards — Why is the modern view of progress so impoverished? https://www.economist.com/christmas-specials/2009/12/17/onwards-and-upwards
