This weekend, while reading about the brutal treatment of Jarm Logue, I remembered a quote from Hobbes which commenter absurdbeats commonly alludes to:
The natural state of men, before they entered into society, was a mere war, and that not simply, but a war of all men against all men.
What Hobbes is arguing (correct me if I am wrong) is that without a sovereign, without a social compact, without the tools of governance, without civic mores, mankind quickly descends into a state of chaos and war, a period of "going for delf," as my people would say, or a war of "all against all" as the philosophers have rendered it.
I've turned that phrase, "All against All," around in my head for some time now. It's a deeply poetic rendering of violent anarchy, and it also has something to tell us about the 250 years between the onset of American slavery and the Civil War.
Hobbes expands some on how the world looks in a time of All Against All:
Hereby it is manifest that during the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man...
In such condition there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of man solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
I think this definition gives too much weight to violence, and too little to the resourcefulness of humans. Nevertheless, Hobbes' description of a time when "the fruit thereof is uncertain" when there is "continual fear, and danger of violent death" and life "poor, nasty, brutish and short" is a very good summation of the lives of enslaved black people during those 250 years.
Those years did not simply visit great violence upon black people, they invented our modern American concept of whiteness. Effectively they created the borders for the tribe we today call "White People." Thus whereas the 250 years preceding 1865 brought suffering to black people, they brought a nationhood to white people, fashioning them into collective, singular "All" rooted in the manufactured privilege un-blackness. One of war's great powers is the promotion of this sort of cohesion, and it is often attended by the naming of a "Them"--the foreign, the contemptible, the justly warred upon.
What if we thought of those pivotal 250 years, not simply as War against black people as I have argued, but as a time when the great American "All" united in massive violence against the great American "Them?" And what if we considered this period, in some Hobbesian sense, as not simply a war, but as means of sociological, economic and political construction brought about through a long period of war against the black body--an time of "All Against Them."
Now, I would argue, we can move away from the notion that the most important, and significant violence, happened on battlefields, that the violence which matters can only occur between two states, as well as the unfortunately popular notion that in 1860, mass existential violence was suddenly and tragically visited upon an otherwise peaceful and sleepy American republic.
Instead what actually happend in 1860 is the "All" (temporarily) shattered. The Fugitive Slave Act is instructive here. It did not simply mandate that slave-catchers had the right to pursue black people into free states, but that white Northerners--as dutiful members of the "All"--must assist in their recapture. The Law was met with much resistance from whites, thus exposing the fractures in the All's social compact.
Every failed compromise, every attack by John Brown, every assist given by whites to fugitive blacks, is another fracture in the All, until 1860 when Abraham Lincoln wins the presidency on an explicitly anti-Slavery platform.
My thoughts are still raw here and I'm trying to pull together a lot. Please forgive me for the messiness of the logic here. This is public thinking.
For those who are new to this you can see a great deal of our conversations on the subject, which now span some four years, here. You can see the specifics of this particular argument, gradually being engaged here, here, here, here, here, here and ultimately here. It's also worth checking this reaction to Edmund Morgan rendering slavery not as an American birth-defect, but as its mid-wife.
The same part of the brain that allows us to step into the shoes of others also helps us restrain ourselves.
You’ve likely seen the video before: a stream of kids, confronted with a single, alluring marshmallow. If they can resist eating it for 15 minutes, they’ll get two. Some do. Others cave almost immediately.
This “Marshmallow Test,” first conducted in the 1960s, perfectly illustrates the ongoing war between impulsivity and self-control. The kids have to tamp down their immediate desires and focus on long-term goals—an ability that correlates with their later health, wealth, and academic success, and that is supposedly controlled by the front part of the brain. But a new study by Alexander Soutschek at the University of Zurich suggests that self-control is also influenced by another brain region—and one that casts this ability in a different light.
To many white Trump voters, the problem wasn’t her economic stance, but the larger vision—a multi-ethnic social democracy—that it was a part of.
Perhaps the clearest takeaway from the November election for many liberals is that Hillary Clinton lost because she ignored the working class.
In the days after her shocking loss, Democrats complained that Clinton had no jobs agenda. A widely shared essay in The Nationblamed Clinton's "neoliberalism" for abandoning the voters who swung the election. “I come from the white working class,” Bernie Sanders said on CBS This Morning, “and I am deeply humiliated that the Democratic Party cannot talk to where I came from.”
But here is the troubling reality for civically minded liberals looking to justify their preferred strategies: Hillary Clinton talked about the working class, middle class jobs, and the dignity of work constantly. And she still lost.
A professor of cognitive science argues that the world is nothing like the one we experience through our senses.
As we go about our daily lives, we tend to assume that our perceptions—sights, sounds, textures, tastes—are an accurate portrayal of the real world. Sure, when we stop and think about it—or when we find ourselves fooled by a perceptual illusion—we realize with a jolt that what we perceive is never the world directly, but rather our brain’s best guess at what that world is like, a kind of internal simulation of an external reality. Still, we bank on the fact that our simulation is a reasonably decent one. If it wasn’t, wouldn’t evolution have weeded us out by now? The true reality might be forever beyond our reach, but surely our senses give us at least an inkling of what it’s really like.
Why the ingrained expectation that women should desire to become parents is unhealthy
In 2008, Nebraska decriminalized child abandonment. The move was part of a "safe haven" law designed to address increased rates of infanticide in the state. Like other safe-haven laws, parents in Nebraska who felt unprepared to care for their babies could drop them off in a designated location without fear of arrest and prosecution. But legislators made a major logistical error: They failed to implement an age limitation for dropped-off children.
Within just weeks of the law passing, parents started dropping off their kids. But here's the rub: None of them were infants. A couple of months in, 36 children had been left in state hospitals and police stations. Twenty-two of the children were over 13 years old. A 51-year-old grandmother dropped off a 12-year-old boy. One father dropped off his entire family -- nine children from ages one to 17. Others drove from neighboring states to drop off their children once they heard that they could abandon them without repercussion.
A Chinese scholar argues that the U.S. shouldn’t touch Taiwan—just like China wouldn’t back separatists in Texas or Hawaii.
Shortly after news broke of Donald Trump’s phone call with the head of Taiwan—the first direct communication between American and Taiwanese leaders in 37 years—one of the leading Chinese scholars of U.S.-China relations offered a stunning proposal: If the U.S. president-elect took similar actions as president, the Chinese government should suspend the world’s most important (and precarious) partnership. “I would close our embassy in Washington and withdraw our diplomats,” said Shen Dingli, a professor at Fudan University in Shanghai. “I would be perfectly happy to end the relationship.”
What made the recommendation especially notable was that, just days earlier, Shen had been arguing that Trump’s victory was good for China—much better than the election of Hillary Clinton would have been. So what was it about the Taiwan call that had so quickly soured Shen on Trump? Where did he now think the U.S.-China relationship was headed, and what might that mean for the wider world?
In the four weeks since the election, which seem like four centuries, Donald Trump has dominated the news and done real strategic and economic damage with his stream of intemperate tweets. For a reckoning of the chaos that his tweets about Taiwan and China have already induced, please see these Atlantic items: by Uri Friedman with Shen Dengli, by David Graham, by Chris Bodenner, and by Isaac Stone Fish, with links to many other analyses. The harm he petulantly inflicted today on Boeing, a company that is perennially the United States’s leading exporter and one of its most important high-tech manufacturing employers and standard-setters, is only the latest and most flagrant illustration.
Probably not. But here are some techniques grifters use, courtesy of Maria Konnikova and her new book about con artists.
In November, I came across a story that made absolutely no sense to me. A 33-year-old consultant named Niall Rice gave $718,000, little by little, to two Manhattan psychics who promised to reunite him with an old flame. How could someone be so gullible? Rice himself didn’t even seem to know: “I just got sucked in,” he told The New York Timeslater.
As it turns out, it’s much easier to fall for these types of cons than many people think. As Maria Konnikova, a psychologist and New Yorker contributor, explains in her new book, The Confidence Game, grifters manipulate human emotions in genius (and evil) ways, striking right when we feel lovelorn or otherwise emotionally vulnerable. I recently spoke with Konnikova about cons, why they happen, and if there’s any way to avoid becoming a fraudster’s next target. A lightly edited version of our conversation follows.
Trump's election has reopened questions that have long seemed settled in America—including the acceptability of open discrimination against minority groups.
When Stephen Bannon called his website, Breitbart, the “platform for the alt-right” this summer, he was referring to a movement that promotes white nationalism and argues that the strength of the United States is tied to its ethnic European roots. Its members mostly stick to trolling online, but much of what they do isn’t original or new: Their taunts often involve vicious anti-Semitism. They make it clear that Jews are not included in their vision of a perfect, white, ethno-state.
On the opposite side of American politics, many progressive groups are preparing to mount a rebellion against Donald Trump. They see solidarity among racial minorities as their goal, and largely blame Trump’s election on racism and white supremacy. Three-quarters of American Jews voted against Trump, and many support this progressive vision. Some members of these groups, though, have singled out particular Jews for their collusion with oppressive power—criticisms which range from inflammatory condemnations of Israel to full-on conspiracies about global Jewish media and banking cabals.
The former vice president spoke with the president-elect about climate change—but that doesn’t mean anything yet.
On Monday, former vice-president Al Gore traveled to Trump Tower to discuss climate change with Ivanka Trump, the daughter of the president-elect.
Instead, he got the well-coiffed one himself.
“I had a lengthy and very productive session with the president-elect,” he told reporters afterward, describing the meeting as “a sincere search for areas of common ground.”
“I found it an extremely interesting conversation, and to be continued. And I’m just going to leave it at that,” he added.
He did not leave it at that, appearing later Monday night on MSNBC. “It’s no secret that Ivanka Trump is very committed to having a climate policy that makes sense for our country and for our world, and that was certainly evident in the conversation that I had with her,” he told Chris Hayes. “I appreciate the fact that she is very concerned about this.”
The latest franchise entry inspires dread for 2017 in film.
Why, exactly, do moviegoers need a fifth Transformers film? None other than Anthony Hopkins is here to explain. “Two species at war, one flesh, one metal,” he intones over the trailer for Transformers: The Last Knight. “Optimus Prime has left us. One hundred billion trillion planets in the cosmos. You want to know, don't you? Why they keep coming here?” That does indeed seem to be the question at hand, especially after a year during which Hollywood lobbed CGI-laden, toy-centric sequels at the screen to little effect. Why do these terrible movies keep coming?
Transformers: The Last Knight represents, it seems, the pinnacle of audience fatigue, a product of all of Hollywood’s worst impulses in an era when studios are struggling to find new paths to profit. The last Transformers film, Age of Extinction, was a relative disappointment domestically, making $245 million (which may sound like a colossal sum, but it cost far more to make and market). Aside from Hopkins’s booming voice and a brief glimpse of Mark Wahlberg, the trailer barely features any flesh-and-blood humans, as if the studio believes audience attachment to day-glo mega-bots like Bumblebee will be enough to sell tickets. Forget about reaching “peak sequel”; Hollywood may be going post-human.