Confessions of an Unrepentant Hypocrite

Or Being a Bad Buddhist

Several times I have mentioned the Buddhist/comparative philosopher David Loy, who is easily one of my favorite writers. I’ve just started Loy’s The Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social Theory, a collection of essays on (wait for it) Buddhist social theory. I’m still in the first few pages, but the book definitely has me reflecting on the ways that I apply my spirituality to the “big questions” of the social world (politics, economics, and so forth). As of today, I still consider myself a centrist/pragmatist liberal, still something an aspirational libertarian, but increasingly sympathetic to the progressive/socialist vision. And still, for all of that, I respect aspects of the classical conservative tradition.

I’m asking a lot of questions of myself that I wasn’t a year ago. For instance, why do I have a reflexive/semi-visceral compulsion to defend capitalism whenever I read criticism of it? I’m not a card-carrying member of the Austrian School (and thank Christ for that), nor do I have any real knowledge of economics. Am I brainwashed and regurgitating my upbringing? Probably to a degree, but I’d like to think I’ve put some thought into this. Is that I’m comfortable with a status quo that (so far) I’ve been able to navigate pretty well and reaped the rewards? For sure - that I can’t deny.

My deeper frustration is that I hear a lot of criticism and not much constructivism - or, put another way, plenty of deconstruction and not much reconstruction. Contra to the tone I sometimes take, I actually don’t want to just passively acquiesce to a status quo that I know is unjust (though I do recognize in myself a temptation to quietism and am trying to remediate it starting with being mindfully aware of it). I don’t, however, care for smugness, self-righteousness, virtue signaling, intellectual arrogance, and endless critiquing that is not accompanied by any viable alternatives. So there’s that.

At least in theory, I believe in compassion and conciliation - I support movements that try to overcome divisions (think Braver Angels). I believe in treating people with dignity, engaging human-to-human. I like to our shared humanity and kindness go all the way. And yet, for all of that, I’m a massive hypocrite. If you follow my posts, restacks, and notes you’ll know I’m not above snark and sometimes vitriol. I’m not easily mistaken here for being a “nice” person. My presence on this website is saturated with hypocrisy. My appreciation for bridging divides isn’t exactly on display here (he said accepting the Understatement of the Year award).

There’s a lot that I could add to this. I have little patience for being lectured by those who themselves frequently speak in polemics. Nothing irritates me more than the conservative Catholic, who, after denouncing the “sons of Sodom” and casually talking about hellfire, clutches his pearls at the tone of LGBT activists. From the other side, I wish progressives could see the beam in their own eyes when it comes to inclusion. I’m reminded of a time when I was attending Spiritus Christi where a number of parishioners - all white, white collar folks - made a big deal of taking a public vow of “nonviolence” - a showy display that made me throw up a little. Inclusion has its limits (as the Rev. Fleming Rutledge has pointed out, see also here).

Simplistic platitudes are poor guides for one’s life. I think of Lex Fridman, who pats himself on the back for his realization that kindness and long form conversations are all we need to change the world and he will do this brave work no matter how much he is “slandered.” God help me that I ever become that much of a simpleton -especially if I prattle on with platitudes while posturing (so much alliteration!) myself as objective and curious while I’m practically beating you over the head with my own biases. Again - whatever can be said about me, I’m not exactly nice.

This isn’t to say that I don’t recognize that we - all of us, myself included - need to relearn the importance of empathy. As my the ever amazing TaraElla recently stressed, we need more love and compassion, not less. This is not, however, exclusive of taking radical steps to change the world and standing by our guns - or by calling out evil in the world where we see it. A recent article on Mindful Solidarity speaks to just this:

In a recent review of the book, Seth Zuiho Segall, agreed with the need for a naturalistic and pragmatic approach to Buddhism which is quite similar to the secular Buddhist perspective advanced in Mindful Solidarity. Seth’s book, Buddhism and Human Flourishing presents a theory of human flourishing which insightfully integrates Aristotle’s notions of eudaimonia and the centrality of virtues with core Buddhist insights; and we highly recommend the book.

However, in the same review, Seth strongly disagreed with the claim that we need a radical transformation to reduce suffering and promote human flourishing. In the first place, Seth opposes the goal of radical change based on the idea — articulated most famously by Reinhold Niebuhr in his Moral Man and Immoral Society — that societies can never be moral, that they will always be dominated by power conflicts between various groups. If a revolution occurs in which one group overthrows another, this doesn’t lead to a more moral and just society but to just another form of power conflict.

Seth also believes that any radical change has unintended and negative consequences — no matter how well-intentioned — because all aspects of society are so interrelated and interconnected that any change sets off a chain reaction of other changes, some of which will always be harmful.

Seth’s conclusion is thus:

This means that when you are imagining “dismantling” and “replacing” capitalism, and think this will result in a better life, you are dwelling in fantasy land. Attempts to totally change societies (the French, Russian, and Cambodian revolutions are cases in point) are more likely to result in disasters rather than improvements. You are better off making small changes here and there—strengthening unions, changing taxation rates, subsidizing college tuition, regulating mergers and acquisitions, limiting predatory bank practices, amending corporate law, overturning Citizens United—than thinking in terms of “ending capitalism.”

Let’s put aside, for another article, an analysis of Seth’s view that human beings, given our nature, aren’t capable of creating societies which are moral and just, and which have as their primary goal the flourishing of human and other beings. Our focus this month is trying to clarify what “radical” means in the context of social transformation. Does radical transformation mean, as Seth argues, a dismantling and replacement of one system by another which is both violent and total?

If not, how do we understand and envisage a radical transformation of society which can avoid the horrific events and consequences of some revolutions?

Revolutions Are Not All the Same

First, it’s important to recognize that radical or revolutionary change encompasses a wide range of phenomena. What the French, Russian, and Cambodian revolutions have in common is the overturning of the status quo and the widespread use of violence to implement and sustain certain political objectives. But beyond that, these revolutions are quite different in terms of the social groups involved, the aims of the revolutionaries, the amount of violence used, and their consequences (good or bad) for both individuals and society. We need to be attentive to the specific dynamics and effects.

So, while the French Revolution certainly included a period of violence and repression, it also played a key role in advancing the notion of liberty, democracy, and human rights throughout the world and challenged the divine right of kings. Was that revolution thus a “disaster”, as Seth argues?

Similarly, the Russian Revolution was, for a time, an inspiring example of how workers could “dismantle” the institutions of a repressive dictatorship supported by landowners and capitalists and gain power through mass, democratic institutions — the Soviets. That the Russian Revolution quickly transitioned into a one-party dictatorship, which used repression and violence on a mass scale, does not mean that it was simply a terrible, disastrous event. We can learn much from both the positive and negative aspects of the Russian Revolution, including how the transition to a dictatorship was shaped by both internal problems within the revolutionary party and external factors, such as the counter-revolution launched against the new workers’ government.

The Khmer Rouge’s seizure of power in Cambodia from 1975 to 1979 was a horrific event and an example of a radical transformation of society which was disastrous in its impact, as several million Cambodians were murdered by the regime.

What Does “Radical” Mean?

It’s helpful, then, to avoid a kind of blanket condemnation of all revolutions. In each case, we need to examine the historical forces at play and to be aware of both their emancipatory and repressive aspects, and the reasons for each. Just as important, we need to be clear about what we mean by a radical transformation. What do the terms associated with radical change — “dismantling” and “replacing” — signify? If “dismantling” means burning everything to the ground and reducing it to ashes and if “replacing” means rising from the ashes as a phoenix, then Seth’s criticism has merit. But there are other ways to understand dismantling and replacing.

We can, for example, dismantle the institutions of a society slowly piece by piece until what is left no longer has the structure of the originals. This is, in fact, what Erik Olin Wright recommends in his How to be an Anti-Capitalist in the 21^st Century. Contemporary capitalism has many different pieces and a political movement that was able to achieve political power could, in conjunction with social movements from below, begin to remove some of the key pieces that maintained the imperatives of capital accumulation and replace them with policies that emphasize production and distribution for human need. Such a process would involve several different strategies to erode and limit the power of capitalism rather than be based on just one strategy: a sudden violent and total seizure of power.

In our view, whether this strategy could work would depend on whether revolutionary activists and mass movements for change are committed to the values and practices of democracy. The dismantling and replacement of capitalism requires that the means of radical transformation are consistent with and support the goal of creating of an economic and political democracy which prioritizes human flourishing for all.

As we envision radical social transformation, then, the goal is to supplant the hegemony and imperatives of a system based on private capital accumulation and the power of corporations with a democratic system based on meeting human needs and which is sustainable in an ecological sense. This does not mean that all existing institutions are destroyed; some aspects of our current society will likely continue, although they will have a different form and role — markets are such an example. Yet, a radical transformation does entail a fundamental shift in power to working people and a basic reorientation of society’s production toward human needs and sustainability. What that means specifically in terms of institutions and processes will be the result of a process of democratic dialogue and collective struggle within a movement for radical social change.

Reproducing the whole thing here because it really provoked me to think. I am a big fan of Segall and, full disclosure, generally agree with him (I’m also a big Niebuhr fan). I do think Niebuhr understood something about the limitations of human nature, which I don’t think necessarily contradicts Zen. In fairly conservative fashion, I think if we all practiced the precepts and meditation, the compounding transformations of individuals would transform society. Change the nature of the individual, change the nature of society.

Still, however, that can’t be the whole story or else we’re left with Jordan Peterson telling us to focus on cleaning up our own room and forgetting the wider world. As the article above notes, revolutions take many forms, we are not limited to pursuing flat-footed violent uprisings. Moreover, the authors make the same point Terry Eagleton has made: an honest look at history reveals progress often comes on the back of bloodshed. Good and bad are forever intertwined, thus is the nature of our species. The point being is, while I’m not prepared yet to relinquish my faith in liberalism, I am beginning to see the wisdom of speaking and thinking in revolutionary terms, of the importance for radical social change.

The question remains how to navigate this. I still find my blood pressure in the stratosphere reading the political opinions of others on here. I have become liberal at blocking people and don’t hesitate to call out what I see as hypocrisy in others (see Fridman, Lex). I can’t fathom at all those who are reacting now with surprise to the current events in this country. Why surprised? If you voted for the Orange Goblin and are now dismayed, you’ve been had. If you voted for Kamala and are surprised at the outcome, you weren’t paying attention.

Where I struggle, however, even as I vent my spleen in this post, is trying to mind my own spiritual health and how I contribute to the world around me. The Buddha’s Eightfold Path is a fierce challenge: it calls us to be mindful of thoughts and actions in all aspects of life. Right Livelihood means we can’t parse our work out from the rest of our life, what we do matters. Right Speech means the way we talk - and that includes online - matters. The threefold test of right speech (Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?) has been attributed to both the Buddha and to Socrates, when it was almost certainly spoke by neither. But the Buddha had something even more challenging, a five-fold test:

“Monks, a statement endowed with five factors is well-spoken, not ill-spoken. It is blameless & unfaulted by knowledgeable people. Which five?

“It is spoken at the right time. It is spoken in truth. It is spoken affectionately. It is spoken beneficially. It is spoken with a mind of good-will.

“A statement endowed with these five factors is well-spoken, not ill-spoken. It is blameless & unfaulted by knowledgeable people.”

Or:

And what other five conditions must be established in himself [i.e. a bhikkhu who desires to admonish another]?

“Do I speak at the right time, or not? Do I speak of facts, or not? Do I speak gently or harshly? Do I speak profitable words or not? Do I speak with a kindly heart, or inwardly malicious?”

If I was to rigorously apply these tests to my speech, whether in real life or here on Substack, I would fail, probably miserably. I’m not sure I’m ready to take this part of practice seriously. And yet - I am feeling the desire to take the precepts, to take my practice to a new level. To take that kind of vow seriously means that I can longer blithely bypass the tests of right speech, to say something because I can and it makes me feel better. Hypocrisy can no longer be an excuse.

I don’t know yet what this means - but I know it matters. And I cannot ignore it.