To give credit where credit is due, Terry Eagleton certainly does a good job of “steel manning” his opponents in his highly enjoyable 2001 book of Marxist apologetics, Why Marx was Right. Each chapter begins with a short critique of Marxism, which he then proceeds to “debunk”. He does an excellent job of articulating the critiques, but in my view, a rather flimsy job of debunking them.

Eagleton insists that the real Marx is actually more interesting and more nuanced than his caricature. This didn’t exactly hit me with the force of revelation, but ironically the more nuanced, sensible and sane Marx is portrayed, the less interesting he seems. At least Eagleton seems to be having fun philosophizing though. He riffs off the themes introduced at the start of each chapter, taking us on a varied and never boring tour of the Marxist intellectual landscape, but without ultimately arguing his way to any definitive or satisfying conclusions. We may end up more knowledgeable and more thougtful, but the critiques stand. An image that kept coming up for me was of a witty, intelligent and slightly mischievous professor flinging straw at a steel man, just for the craic of it.

So for what it’s worth, here are ten reasons why I am not a Marxist, shamelessly lifted from Terry Eagleton’s Why Marx was Right:

“ONE : Marxism is finished. It might conceivably have had some relevance to a world of factories and food riots, coal miners and chimney sweeps, widespread misery and massed working classes. But it certainly has no bearing on the increasingly classless, socially mobile, postindustrial Western societies of the present. It is the creed of those who are too stubborn, fearful or deluded to accept that the world has changed for good, in both senses of the term.”

“TWO : Marxism may be all very well in theory. Whenever it has been put into practice, however, the result has been terror, tyranny and mass murder on an inconceivable scale. Marxism might look like a good idea to well-heeled Western academics who can take freedom and democracy for granted. For millions of ordinary men and women, it has meant famine, hardship, torture, forced labour, a broken economy and a monstrously oppressive state. Those who continue to support the theory despite all this are either obtuse, self-deceived or morally contemptible. Socialism means lack of freedom; it also means a lack of material goods, since this is bound to be the result of abolishing markets.”

“THREE : Marxism is a form of determinism. It sees men and women simply as the tools of history, and thus strips them of their freedom and individuality. Marx believed in certain iron laws of history, which work themselves out with inexorable force and which no human action can resist. Feudalism was fated to give way to capitalism, and capitalism will inevitably give way to socialism. As such, Marx’s theory of history is just a secular version of Providence or Destiny. It is offensive to human freedom and dignity, just as Marxist states are.”

“FOUR : Marxism is a dream of utopia. It believes in the possibility of a perfect society, without hardship, suffering, violence or conflict. Under communism there will be no rivalry, selfishness, possessiveness, competition or inequality. Nobody will be superior or inferior to anyone else. Nobody will work, human beings will live in complete harmony with one another, and the flow of material goods will be endless. This astonishingly naïve vision springs from a credulous faith in human nature. Human viciousness is simply set aside. The fact that we are naturally selfish, acquisitive, aggressive and competitive creatures, and that no amount of social engineering can alter this fact, is simply overlooked. Marx’s dewy-eyed vision of the future reflects the absurd unreality of his polemic as a whole.”

“FIVE : Marxism reduces everything to economics. It is a form of economic determinism. Art, religion, politics, law, war, morality, historical change: all these are seen in the crudest terms as nothing more than the reflections of the economy or class struggle. The true complexity of human affairs is passed over for a monochrome vision of history. In his obsession with economics, Marx was simply an inverted image of the capitalist system he opposed. His thought is at odds with the pluralist outlook of modern societies, conscious as they are that the varied range of historical experience cannot be crammed into a single rigid framework.”

“SIX : Marx was a materialist. He believed that nothing exists but matter. He had no interest in the spiritual aspects of humanity, and saw human consciousness as just a reflex of the material world. He was brutally dismissive of religion, and regarded morality simply as a question of the end justifying the means. Marxism drains humanity of all that is most precious about it, reducing us to inert lumps of material stuff determined by our environment. There is an obvious route from this dreary, soulless vision of humanity to the atrocities of Stalin and other disciples of Marx.”

“SEVEN : Nothing is more outdated about Marxism than its tedious obsession with class. Marxists seem not to have noticed that the landscape of social class has changed almost out of recognition since the days when Marx himself was writing. In particular, the working class which they fondly imagine will usher in socialism has disappeared almost without trace. We live in a social world where class matters less and less, where there is more and more social mobility, and where talk of class struggle is as archaic as talk of burning heretics at the stake. The revolutionary worker, like the wicked top-hatted capitalist, is a figment of the Marxist imagination.”

“EIGHT : Marxists are advocates of violent political action. They reject a sensible course of moderate, piecemeal reform and opt instead for the bloodstained chaos of revolution. A small band of insurrectionists will rise up, overthrow the state and impose its will on the majority. This is one of several senses in which Marxism and democracy are at daggers drawn. Because they despise morality as mere ideology, Marxists are not especially troubled by the mayhem their politics would unleash on the population. The end justifies the means, however many lives may be lost in the process.”

“NINE : Marxism believes in an all-powerful state. Having abandoned private property, socialist revolutionaries will rule by means of a despotic power, and that power will put an end to individual freedom. This has happened wherever Marxism has been put into practice; there is no reason to expect that things would be different in the future. It is part of the logic of Marxism that the people give way to the party, the party gives way to the state, and the state to a monstrous dictator. Liberal democracy may not be perfect, but it is infinitely preferable to being locked in a psychiatric hospital for daring to criticise a savagely authoritarian government.”

“TEN : All the most interesting radical movements of the past four decades have sprung up from outside Marxism. Feminism, environmentalism, gay and ethnic politics, animal rights, antiglobalisation, the peace movement: these have now taken over from an antiquated commitment to class struggle, and represent new forms of political activism which have left Marxism well behind. Its contributions to them have been marginal and uninspiring. There is indeed still a political left, but it is one appropriate to a postclass, postindustrial world.”

I was curious to see how Terry Eagleton would go about addressing and even perhaps refuting these claims. I was open to the possibility that the scales might fall from my eyes and that finally I would get it. Surely I had missed something? And what better hands to be coaxed back into the fold than those of my charming and erudite undergraduate hero (I read English Lit)?

But all I found were a jumble of half-baked arguments and assertions. Whatever the ins and outs of Marx’s thought and his intellectual relations to other nineteenth century thinkers, it seems painfully obvious that there is a wide gulf between Marx the man and Marxism, and that Marxism is closer to the ten vignettes copied and pasted above, than to the supposed subtleties of Marx’s personal intellectual genius. If only academics of Terry Eagleton’s caliber can distill the profound truths from the apparent nonsense, what hope for the rest of us? If we are attracted by Marxism, won’t it most likely be the bastardised version? The anti-capitalist “eat the rich” variety?

Don’t take my word for it though. Read the book and make up your own mind.

 

“Marx’s work is all about human enjoyment. The good life for him is not one of labour but one of leisure. Free self-realisation is a from of “production”, to be sure; but it is not one that is coercive. And leisure is necessary if men and women are to devote time to running their own affairs. It is thus surprising that Marxism does not attract more card-carrying idlers and professional loafers to its ranks. This, however, is because a lot of energy must be expended on achieving this goal. Leisure is something you have to work for.”

Terry Eagleton

Marx highlighted how grinding poverty robs people of leisure time because they have to work all hours of the day just to survive. Although he pointed to the tragic plight of the busy workers in newly industrialised British cities, this is even more true of traditional agrarian societies. Ironically, it was the industrial revolution and capitalism which began to free people from the servitude of labour and open up new vistas of leisure.

Fast forward to the labour saving devices of the 1950’s. Fast forward to the AI revolution and the further spread of automation throughout the manufacturing and even service industries. A bright future of endless leisure beckons. No more slaving over the washing or in the cotton mills. Plenty of free time for “self-realisation”.

Are we ready for the communist utopia then? Not quite. Even though we don’t really need to work all hours of the day to survive, we still work like dogs. Why? Because we want a bigger house and a better car. We do have plenty of leisure time left over though. But we don’t seem to use much if any of it for self-realisation. We’d rather spend it on entertainment.

This is what “the evil of capitalism” seems to amount to for Marxists. People work all day in pointless jobs and then spend their evenings being brainwashed by idiotic TV shows and advertising. What kind of a life is that? I call it Muggle Life. Aldous Huxley called it Brave New World.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how much money you have. You still end up being a cog in the capitalist machine. This is the half that Marx was right about. All his talk of “alienation” boils down to this dehumanising, superficial existence of material production and consumption. It sucks.

Marx was reticent about speculating on what the communist utopia would actually be like. We know that the communist dystopia looks something like George Orwell’s 1984, as has been fully realised in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. But why wouldn’t the utopian version be something like Brave New World?

As Terry Eagleton says, “leisure is something you have to work for”, which is why Marxists cannot enjoy the fruits of their leisure. They are too busy. Busy doing what? Working for the future leisure utopia of course! And how do they keep themselves busy? Well, they read Marxist tracts. They attend meetings. They go on marches and demos. They talk incessantly about how awful capitalism is.

Marxists are too busy to “self-realise”. They will not rest until the communist leisure utopia has arrived. But what if the capitalist leisure utopia has already arrived? What’s the advantage of a communist one? Well, for a start, people won’t waste their time on stupid capitalist bourgeois nonsense. They won’t be greedy. They won’t be individualistic or materialistic. They will be communists. Which sound lovely if you happen to be a communist. But if you’re not, you’ll probably be hard pressed to think of anything worse.

In any case, Marx was right about leisure. You need leisure time in order to self-realise. But he was wrong about how to go about getting it. Perpetual revolution, perpetual Marxism, perpetual class struggle, don’t exactly free up time. You just end up swapping muggle pastimes for muppet ones. And you will never be content to put down your arms, because human nature being what it is, however history turns out, you will never accept that we have actually reached the longed for utopia.

The only way to truly “self-realise” is to realise that you are responsible for what you do with your time. You can choose how much to work. You can choose how to spend your free time. You don’t really need loads of money, so you don’t really need to work really hard. You don’t really need to buy that new jacket or watch that new series. You don’t have to be a capitalist muggle. Equally, you can choose not to obsess about how other people don’t have the same luxury. You don’t have to be a Marxist muppet.

If you really want a leisure utopia of endless time for self-realisation here and now, not in some fanciful imaginary future, why not be a monk or a nun? That’s what monasteries are for.

Marx was half right in that we need basic material conditions in order to be able to fulfill our human potential for self-realisation. But he was wrong in supposing that material conditions go all the way. At a certain point, a very close point in fact, the spiritual takes over.

Which is not to say you shouldn’t work for the material betterment of humanity. Some people are called to help the poor and to fight on behalf of the oppressed. Some of them call themselves Christians; some of them call themselves Marxists. But the poor are always with us. The way society is organised is not necessarily fundamentally corrupt and does not necessarily need to be completely overturned. In fact, the British model of parliamentary democracy works rather well. Locke, Smith, Mandeville, Hume, Burke, Ferguson and Disraeli were not stupid. In any case, the Marxist critique of capitalism as such is irrelevant to the actual amelioration of living standards for real people in the real world.

There is a world of difference between social democracy and democratic socialism. The former is committed to social justice and relief of the dispossessed. The latter is committed to upending the capitalist system. History has shown more incontrovertibly than any political argument that socialism is a disaster for everyone except the apparatchiks.

The only way to tackle the excesses of capitalism is through a spiritual revolution, not a material one. We are in the middle of a spiritual crisis. Sadly, Marxism is part of the problem, not part of the solution.

 

The eighteenth century Enlightenment myth of the Middle Ages was that it was an age of darkness, shrouded in the mists of superstition and mysticism. It was the same charge leveled against the Catholic church by Luther and the Protestants the previous century. With the Reformation and the Enlightenment, Europe was dragged out of ignorance and into the light of Reason and Common Sense.

Although it was a myth, it was powerful enough to persist up to the present. We still think of the Enlightenment as a watershed in history, as the beginning of the modern age. And in a sense, it is. But the light of the Enlightenment cast a big shadow: first the French Revolution and then the Napoleonic Wars, and then the Twentieth Century.

It is true that the Middle Ages are shrouded in mystery and darkness. But the mistake of the Enlightenment philosophers was to assume that this was a bad thing. There is no light without dark and no dark without light. The Christian mystics of the first half of the second millennium understood this. The Cloud of Unknowing, written in the 14th Century, beautifully articulated the process by which the human mind could attain the true light of enlightenment, through unknowing and darkness.

We are only haltingly coming to appreciate this in the modern age, blinded as we are by the phosphorescent lights of Science and Rationality. Part of our re-membering is due to the discovery in the West of the treasure trove of Eastern mysticism. The first chapter of the Tao Te Ching sums it up beautifully:

Yet mystery and manifestations / arise from the same source. / This source is called darkness. / Darkness within darkness. / The gateway to all understanding.

T.S. Eliot understood that the banishment of mystery and darkness in the modern world was a spiritual tragedy:

Not here / Not here the darkness in this twittering world.

But there is good darkness and bad darkness. There is the pregnant mystery at the heart of creation and there is the impenetrable veil of ignorance spun by human minds. Of course there was plenty of that in the Middle Ages. But that was what the church was for. Orthodoxy mitigated the descent into madness and confusion that descent into the dark might occasion. Tradition was the ongoing conversation between the ineffable mystery and its representation in word, art, music and doctrine.

In my little Tibetan mind map, the Titans (muppets) can fall foul of either too much artificial light or too much artificial darkness. Type 1 muppets, the scientific materialist militant atheists, live in a false dawn of LED strip lighting. Type 2 muppets, the cultural relativist postmodern nihilists, live in a false dusk of cynical nonsense and obscurantism masquerading as wisdom.

Type 3 muppets, the revolutionary socialist utopians, live in the long shadow of the Enlightenment. Whether Marxist, Leninist, Trotskyist, Stalinist, Maoist, Jucheist, Mussoliniist or Hitlerist, these muppets believe that no amount of darkness can dim the radiant purity of their enlightened vision. Type 4 muppets, the religious fundamentalist jihadists (of all affiliations) likewise.

O dark dark dark. / They all go into the dark, / The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant.

That’s what you get when you cut yourself loose from the mystery of your own spiritual tradition.

 

The idea of evolution is implicit in religion. If there were no progress, there would be no point. In the Judeo-Christian tradition this is expressed in terms of our personal and collective relationship with God. Spiritual progress is defined by our increasing proximity to God. Spiritual regress is of course the opposite. We made a deal with God, back in the mists of time, a covenant. If we obey God’s laws and listen to his prophets, if we do our best to be a godly people and live godly lives, then things will go well for us. If not, not.

Evolution is at the heart of contemporary New Age thinking. The Potential Movement, Transpersonal Psychology and Positive Psychology are all about fulfilling our human spiritual potential by evolving. Ken Wilber’s classic door stopper, Sex, Ecology, Spirituality was subtitled The Spirit of Evolution for a reason. My personal favourite in the meta-narrative genre is Andrew Smith’s The Dimensions of Experience, subtitled A Natural History of Consciousness. This is an explicitly panpychist thesis, painstakingly tracing the evolution of consciousness through the three great domains of matter, life and mind (and beyond).

Then there’s the soporific Conscious Evolution: Awakening the Power of Our Social Potential by Barbara Marx Hubbard and the worthy The New Cosmic Story: Inside Our Awakening Universe by John Haught. Haught is writing from a Christian perspective, though in a different vein to Teilhard de Chardin. However, it is Indian religion and philosophy which truly excels at evolutionary spirituality, most impressively in Sri Aurobindo’s classic, The Life Divine.

According to these religious narratives, it is the mystics who are sitting at the top of the evolutionary tree. You might call them Buddhas, Enlightened Ones, Saints, Ascended Masters. They’re basically mystics. They have realized the mystery of existence. But in the secular world, there are other things at the top of the tree.

Following Charles Darwin, who naturalized the idea of evolution with his theory of natural selection, secular humanists dreamed of other futures. The underlying concept, popularized as “the survival of the fittest”, appeared to justify the rule of the strong over the weak as “natural”. This led to Social Darwinism, the idea that societies could and should be organised along strictly Darwinian lines. The logical outcome of this was the Eugenics Movement, which believed that only the “fittest” human beings should reproduce, in order to ensure the healthy future evolution of the species.

George Bernard Shaw was famously a eugenics enthusiast, as was Adolf Hitler. The dream of a brighter, healthier future purged of cripples and dimwits cut across all party lines. The great German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche provided intellectual weight to the idea of a future Superman and Master Race. In his Genealogy of Morals he argued against the perverse Christian doctrine of looking after the poor and the infirm and for a return to the steely virility of the pre-Christian pagans, the Greeks, the Spartans, the Romans, and the Saxons and Teutons, the “blond beasts”. The Christians had turned the Western world into a smelly sanitorium, a culture enfeebled by the care of the feeble, when it should be a bracing battle field, strengthened by the death of the feeble and the survival of the fittest.

Nietzsche was a subtle and brilliant thinker. I feel bad caricaturing him like this. But he undeniably expressed this fascistic idea more forcefully than anyone. What is “the Will to Power” but exactly what it says on the tin? What is “Bad Faith” but a pathetic, pusillanimous, emasculated Christian response to the Will to Power?

There seems to be something of a revival of this way of thinking. The popularity of Ayn Rand, particularly in the United States is testament to the fact. Many self-proclaimed Objectivists or Libertarians are basically advocating for “the survival of the fittest”. Take away all the irritating and enervating restraints on individual freedoms imposed by an over-protective nanny state and let natural selection run its course. And let the devil take the hindmost.

This is why Libertarians are the enemies of Liberals. Liberals took a different path from Darwin. But before we get to the Liberals, let’s have a closer look at the Communists. Lenin and his acolytes were devotees of Karl Marx. Karl Marx was heavily influenced by Georg Hegel. Hegel’s great masterpiece, The Phenomenology of the Spirit, is basically an account of human history as the expression of deeper evolutionary currents, which he associated with Geist (Spirit).

New Age thinkers like Ken Wilber like this idea because it maps onto their conception of a spiritual undercurrent to history. This is also why Nietzsche remains so popular (apart from his eloquent Christian baiting). Zarathustra is an ambiguous figure who is both iconoclastic and mystical, and who can be equally appropriated by Nazis and hippies.

However, take away the religious overtones, and you are left with a stark choice: “Left Hegelianism” or “Right Hegelianism”. Marx was a Left Hegelian. For Marx, the underlying current of human history was leading inexorably to a classless society. His analysis of Dialectic Materialism suggested that through progressive struggles and revolutions and Class War (the perennial struggle over resources and means of production between the Haves and Have Nots), the workers, the Proletariat, would emerge victorious and usher in a Communist Utopia, where all private property would be abolished and all things shared in common in a great Brotherhood of Man.

In Marx’s reading, it wasn’t a Superman sitting at the top of the evolutionary tree, it was a Superstate. Instead of power being concentrated in the Powerful, power would be concentrated in one centralised, bureaucratic state, which would be “owned” by everyone. No-one would have any power at all, because the state would have a monopoly of power. Ergo, everyone would be equally free and happy (or rather, equally unfree and unhappy).

For the “Right Hegelians”, Darwinism implied the survival of the fittest in the Great Game, where power and resources were distributed naturally according to the laws of the jungle. For the “Left Hegelians”, it implied the ultimate concentration and therefore perfect distribution of power through the absorption of the individual into the collective. Surely this was the most highly evolved social organisation imaginable? For termites maybe.

Anyway, back to the Liberals. The absolute value for Liberals is tolerance. Everyone should be tolerated. Everyone should be free to do whatever they like. Without God, everything is permitted. In this, they are arm in arm with the Libertarians. However, as soon as people are free to do whatever they like, they can’t help stepping on each other’s toes. It doesn’t help much to say “you are free to do whatever you like as long as it doesn’t impinge on anyone else’s freedom” because it’s not just about the odd isolated thing. Over the long term, your freedom to live in a decent society will inevitably be compromised.

So Liberals are morally compelled to safeguard people’s rights through a kind of compulsory tolerance called Political Correctness. If you don’t like what other people get up to, you must keep it to yourself, for fear of social exclusion. This is of course implicit in any society. There are certain social norms and taboos which, if broken, lead to varying levels of moral censure and can be punished in extreme cases by exile, imprisonment or even death. The difference in Liberalism, is that there are no social norms. Any attempt to articulate social norms is indeed considered Illiberal.

The chaos and confusion surrounding the Transgender movement is perfectly illustrative of this problem. It is not difficult to imagine further, even more transgressive movements in the future, causing even more moral havoc, perhaps under the aegis of Transhumanism. Liberal will be committed to defending them all.

The popular historian Yuval Noah Harari describes the horrific events of the twentieth century as the Humanist Wars. He sees them as the humanist equivalent of the Religious Wars in Europe in the seventeenth century. The rivals for the humanist crown in this war are identified as “Liberal Humanism”, “Socialist Humanism” and “Evolutionary Humanism” (by “Evolutionary Humanism” he means Fascism and the Nazism, the “Right Hegelians”). According to Harari, the winner is Liberal Humanism. Socialist Humanism and Evolutionary Humanism are dead.

But all three humanisms are really evolutionary humanisms. They are all founded on a naturalistic neo-Darwinian conception of humanity as having evolved from apes some time in the distant past and currently evolving into an unknown future of infinite possibility. Perhaps Liberalism is the best of a bad bunch and deserved to win, but like it’s human ape cousins, it also seems to be foundering on the shoals of human vanity and ignorance. It seems to be leading us down some strange and frankly inhuman paths. Neo-liberalism is only the tip of the iceberg.

Humanists think they can forge humanity in the image of their own favourite idols and stick their own angel on top of the evolutionary tree. But the descendants of Abraham and Isaac (okay and Ishmael), the “chosen people”, whether Jew, Christian or Muslim, patiently remind us that we cannot mold reality according to our personal whims and ideologies. Whether we know it or not, we have made a pact with God. We are all of us people of God, made in the image of God. We are not the children of apes, we are children of God.

In reality, there is only ever one thing at the top of the tree, and whether it’s a star or an angel, it’s definitely not the work of human hands.

 

Delusion is the root of Samsara. If you are to escape from Samsara, you must cut the tree at the root. You may have to deal with your demons, with your anxieties and depressions, your addictions, your ignorance and arrogance. But if you don’t deal with your delusions, however hard you work on yourself, you will always be pulled back into the vortex of Samsara.

All spiritual traditions use the metaphors of sleep and waking and of death and life to point to the radical difference between two distinct states of consciousness. The Ancient Egyptians used the word “mut” to describe the state of the living dead, or the spiritually dead. Although you appear to be alive and awake, you are in fact asleep and dead. You are a zombie.

This insight is revealed at the moment of spiritual breakthrough. If you meditate or pray long and hard enough, if you are still enough, you will suddenly be flooded by waves of energy and light. You will be filled with bliss, “ananda”, and consciousness, “chitta”. You will feel intensely alive and wide awake. In that moment, you will appreciate how dead and asleep you were before.

Death and life, sleep and waking are relative. It’s actually a sliding scale. As you board the tube the following morning, you will see in the faces of your fellow passengers their degree of sleep and death, their degree of “mut”. Most of them will be hypnotized, gazing at their phones. Some of them might actually be zombies.

According to Daniel Dennett, we are all zombies in the philosophical sense. We behave as though we were conscious, we may even believe that we are conscious, but in reality, consciousness is nothing but a clever illusion conjured up by the brain. This is of course, as Galen Strawson pointed out, the silliest claim ever made. But it is the logical conclusion of materialism.

Maybe if you believe you are a zombie, you actually start acting like one. Maybe you lose your élan vital and your inner light is dimmed close to perfect darkness. Maybe. This is a plausible consequence of this particular delusion. It appears to be a self-fulfilling prophesy. Disbelieve in consciousness and you don’t experience yourself as conscious.

The same is also true for disbelief in God. Disbelieve in God and there is no God. Surely this is clear evidence that He doesn’t exist? If His existence depends on belief, then He is obviously just a subjective phenomenon, another “optical illusion of consciousness” (sorry I forgot, there is no consciousness!)

But then again, maybe you are in fact conscious, whether you believe it or not, and maybe there is in fact a God, whether you believe in Him or not. You may have a diminished experience of life, consciousness and divinity, but if you are to any degree alive and awake, there will still be some, if only a trace.

I agree with Strawson. The denial of consciousness is the silliest claim ever made. The second silliest is the denial of God. In the end the two denials come to the same thing, as in some mysterious sense, God and Consciousness are identical. This, at least, is the claim of the Indian and Sufi mystics, and, in fact, of all mystics.

I have distinguished four basic classes of “muppet”. These represent four types of delusion. Type 1 muppets are scientific atheists. They are physicalists, naturalists, materialists. They believe in science as the ultimate repository of all knowledge about the universe. Type 2 muppets are philosophical atheists, or more commonly nowadays, postmodern atheists. They are relativists and social constructivists. Type 3 muppets are revolutionary atheists and therefore political activists. They believe in a human-made utopia, where “the world will live as one”. Type 4 muppets are religious atheists. They think they believe in God, but they don’t really. They believe in their religion and their idea of God. They are scriptural literalists and fundamentalists.

The common denominator is atheism. Muppets are “Fighting Spirits” because they are in rebellion against God. It is a permanent revolution, to coin a phrase. The result is dissociation from the well-springs of light and life. The consequence is the spread of ignorance, arrogance, addiction, depression and hatred. In other words, we become muggles, divas, addicts, victims and demons. All these archetypes ultimately derive from the basic delusion that there is no God.

But there is a God. If you don’t believe it, you need to work it out for yourself. You’ve probably seen through Type 4 muppetry. If not, the bookshelves are groaning under the weight of writers showing how deluded religious fundamentalism is. The most famous are the Four Horsemen, Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Daniel Dennett and Sam Harris.

If you are tempted by Type 3 muppetry, you should read John Gray and Roger Scruton. If you are partial to  bit of Type 2 muppetry, read some real philosophy, Ancient or Analytical. And check out Stephen Hicks and James Lindsay.

The first and last, the most formidable bastion against belief in God is of course scientific materialism. This is the one we moderns have swallowed whole. This is the one that needs the strongest purgatives. This is the biggest delusion, which is ultimately at the root of all the others.

Fortunately, there are an increasing number of writers successfully countering this delusion through rational argument. I will nod to a few of my personal favourites: G.K. Chesterton, C.S. Lewis, Thomas Nagel, David Bentley Hart, Rupert Sheldrake, David Berlinski, Alister McGrath, Jonathan Sacks and John Lennox.

Once this delusion is dispelled, all the others will vanish in its wake. Then you will be free to enjoy the fruits of blessedness: enlightenment and eternal life.

 

If you do not consider yourself to be a muggle you must have special knowledge which lifts you above the crowd. Not for you the herd mentality and slave morality of the masses. You see through the charade. Your magic talisman defends you from the sleep of ignorance.

So you’re not a muggle. You probably wouldn’t be reading this if you were. So what are you? And what is the magical superpower which makes you so special? Also, is it your own self-concocted magic or have you borrowed it? Are you your own self-made hero or do you have a champion?

If you are a Christian, your champion is Christ. If you are a Nietzschean, your champion is Nietzsche. Christ promises salvation. Through Him you can overcome the fallen world. Nietzsche also promises a kind of salvation, although his brand actually involves salvation from Christianity.

Ultimately, both Christ and Nietzsche promise salvation from muggles, but in seemingly opposite ways. They are rivals for the anti-muggle crown. The Supermen do battle with the Saints for the “top human” prize. The Communists famously did battle with the Fascists for the totalitarian prize. And there are many other rivals and many other prophets.

Who is your champion? Dawkins? Foucault? Marx? Ron L Hubbard? I picked these four because they are clear representatives of four general anti-muggle positions. They are not the only champions of these positions of course. They have rival champions as well as allies. However, their real enemies are to be found in the other three rival camps.

I call this “Muppet Wars”. Muppets think they are special. They look down on muggles. But they just can’t help bickering and fighting. “Type 1” muppets have the magic of science and reason on their side. They are atheist, neo-Darwinian, scientific materialists. “Type 2” muppets have the magic of critical theory and deconstruction. They are postmodernist, relativist, progressivist liberals. “Type 3” muppets have the magic of idealism and people power. They are utopian, collectivist, political activists. “Type 4” muppets have the magic of revealed truth. They are religious fundamentalists.

Perhaps it’s simpler to describe the Muppet Wars through the lens of basic political orientations. Type 4 muppets are the “Old Right” (royalists, imperialists, oligarchs); type 3 muppets are the “Old Left” (all forms of socialism, including National Socialism); type 2 muppets are the “New Left” (progressives, neo-Marxist postmodernists); type 1 muppets are the New Right (Libertarians, the Alt Right).

Type 1 muppets hate type 4 muppets and vice versa. Type 1 muppets also fight with type 2 muppets and type 3 muppets. Type 4 muppets hate type 2 muppets, which is generously reciprocated. Type 2 muppets hate type 3 muppets and type 3 muppets hate type 2 muppets as well as type 4 muppets. However, type 2 muppets sometimes forge alliances with type 3 muppets as do type 1 muppets and type 4 muppets. This can be extremely dangerous.

So where does Jordan Peterson fit in all this? He is critical of totalitarianism and collectivism; he hates type 3 muppets. He is critical of identity politics and postmodernism; he hates type 2 muppets. He is critical of  religious fundamentalism and authoritarianism; he hates type 4 muppets. He is critical of the New Atheism and the New Right; he disagrees with type 1 muppets.

There is a difference between hate and disagreement. Sometimes hate is justified and even called for. Peterson is arguably right to hate totalitarianism. He is also arguably right to hate the anarchy implicit in postmodernism. These fit nicely into his Order/Chaos hypothesis. Too much Order (totalitarianism) is hateful as is too much Chaos (postmodernism). Fundamentalism also is excessive Order, so he’s justified in hating fundamentalism as well.

That deals with types 2, 3 and 4. Peterson clearly hates them all, and his “hate speech” has certainly ruffled a few feathers. However, he employs a very different tone when it comes to type 1 types – he actually treats them with respect. Think of his disagreements with Sam Harris and Steven Pinker. He doesn’t treat them like muppets. He treats them like intellectual equals.

Both Sam Harris and Steven Pinker call themselves left wing. They are probably very close to Peterson’s own political stance: “classical liberal”. Politically, they are allied against progressives (type 2’s), political extremists (type 3’s) and ultra conservatives (type 4’s). Where Peterson (along with Ben Shapiro and Tom Holland) parts company with Harris and Pinker is on the issue of the Enlightenment.

Peterson et al. believe that classical liberal Enlightenment ideals derive from the Judeo-Christian tradition and cannot survive without it. Like cut flowers, they will wither and die. Pinker et al. believe that science and reason are enough to maintain a humane society. But is this enough to resolve the “Meaning Crisis”? They ultimately offer a flat vision of reality without any ultimate purpose or meaning. Which is, of course, what Peterson is most concerned about.

This is where I think the real action is. And this is where Jordan Peterson is most interesting. The big question is, how can we fill the spiritual void left by the secularization of the Western world? If we don’t deal with this central question, it will (perhaps) continue to be filled by parasitical ersatz religions such as Neo-Marxism or “Woke Religion”. In my view, the Culture War is a side show. It’s just a local battle between type 1 and type 2 muppets. It’s a symptom, not the cause of the problem.

Liberal secular humanism is unstable. It can be maintained for a while, but it will always devolve into nihilism , utopianism or fundamentalism eventually. It fails to answer the deep human need for transcendent truth and meaning beyond the everyday. In its weak form, it is a muggle creed and is easily overthrown by the more vociferous muppets. In its strong form, it becomes a muppet creed in its own right (think Auguste Comte or Herbert Spencer).

It is easy to misunderstand Peterson’s real significance because he aligns himself with type 1 muppets against type 2 muppets, which include right wing libertarians like Carl Benjamin and Alt Right provocateurs like Milo Yiannopoulos. But neither is he a champion of the Enlightenment like Steven Pinker. He is not a type 1 muppet at all. He is speaking to something deeper, something beyond the Muppet Wars altogether.

Of course there is a place for calling out the irrational, unreasonable excesses of the New Left. There is a place for politics. But that’s not my place.

Which is why I left the Jordan Peterson Discussion Group.

There seems to have emerged a new mini-genre of books dealing with the difficulty of having difficult conversations. There is Alan Jacobs’ How to Think and Mick Hume’s Trigger Warning and more recently Peter Bhogossian’s How to Have Impossible Conversations and Dave Rubin’s Don’t Burn This Book. You might include Joshua Greene’s Moral Tribes and Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind and, I suppose, Douglas Murray’s The Madness of Crowds.

What’s it all about? I would say it’s about the re-assertion of classical liberal values in a post-liberal world. Liberalism is in something of a crisis at the moment (if you hadn’t noticed). In a way it is a victim of its own success, as the “negative” liberalism of John Stuart Mill has somehow morphed into the “positive” liberalism of progressivism. By “negative” I simply mean the principle of “negative liberty”, whereby everyone is deemed free to pursue their own version of the good life, so long as it doesn’t impinge on the freedom of others to pursue theirs. “Positive liberalism” on the other hand imposes a specific liberal vision onto everyone else through active coercion. This kind of liberalism was the subject of Jonah Goldberg’s book Liberal Fascism.

Classical liberalism is minimalist. The aim is to give people as much freedom as possible to live their lives as they see fit within the minimum requirements of public order established by the rule of law. That’s basically it. As long as you don’t break the law, your morals, your beliefs and your actions are your own business. Moral censure and social sanctions are naturally provided by the communities in which you live, but the state has nothing to say about the private lives of its citizens.

I have the right to follow my own version of the good life, but I also have the right to communicate my vision and even to attempt to persuade people to come round to my way of seeing things. I can write books, give talks and hold meetings. I can proselytize and cajole with all the rhetorical skills I can muster, and use everything in my power to convince people of my position. What I cannot do is force people to adopt my beliefs against their will. I cannot use violence or blackmail or any form of manipulation that exceeds the reasonable bounds of ordinary acceptable social intercourse.

What those reasonable bounds are will necessarily be blurred. Excessive force in one culture or context may be judged perfectly acceptable in another. These ambiguities and controversies should also be subject to open debate in a properly functioning liberal civil society. However, as soon as one section of society decides to take matters into their own hands and begins to silence another, through noisy or even violent protest and “no-platforming”, as soon as we have “politically correct” vigilantes, we have a problem. Freedom of speech is the core principle of liberalism, which cannot be violated without putting the very fabric of liberal democracy at risk.

Evelyn Hall put the principle most forcibly with the famous words, “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” This is the essence of classical liberalism, in contrast to certain modern strains of liberal fascism, which will defend to the death my right not to hear it or let anyone else hear it.

What unites podcasters and youtubers such as Dave Rubin and Joe Rogan and public intellectuals such as Jonathan Haidt and Steven Pinker (and our beloved Jordan Peterson) is their liberal Enlightenment values, which promote freedom of speech and negative liberty over virtue signalling and positive “liberal” bullying. This is really what ultimately defines the ragtag bunch of thinkers and talking heads known as the IDW (“Intellectual Dark Web”). They stand for open and free inquiry about any and every topic where anything goes, as long as it is done in a spirit of reason and civility.

The so-called “Culture War” is not really a battle of Left vs Right or Young vs Old or what-have-you. It is a battle for the soul of liberalism. Which is why the IDW includes people all over the political and religious spectrum. They are united by a belief in classical liberalism and a determination to defend it in the face of any and all ideologies, including liberal ones, like “Identity Politics”.

The problem with Identity Politics is that personal conviction based on identification with a particular set of doctrines trumps reason and civility. Indeed, reason itself is deemed by many self-styled progressives as an instrument of intellectual oppression. This view of reason as the “handmaiden of power” is only really plausible for people brought up on a postmodern diet of deconstruction and critical theory. But somehow this academic backwater has now taken centre stage in Western cultural discourse. The result is that “applied postmodernism” has relativised and therefore de-legitimised reason itself.

I have some sympathy with the postmodern turn in Continental philosophy. Of course the monolithic universal Reason with a capital ‘R’ worshiped by the Enlightenment philosophes is a myth. There are different ways to legitimately reason about things, and there is no Pure Reason beyond our emotions and intuitions. However, good reasoning is as recognisable to those well versed in rational deliberation as good writing is to seasoned writers or even good painting to good painters.

The fact that reason, like meaning, is inter-subjective, doesn’t mean it cannot express objective truths. It’s just that they are objective inter-subjective truths (they are obviously not the same kind of truths as scientific or mathematical truths). We might say that reason is an emergent social phenomenon that we all participate in to one extent or another. In a qualified sense we can even say that reason has evolved. This being so, we must not be naive enough to treat reason as a given characteristic of what it means to be human, like the fact that we have two legs. Our capacity for reason is hard-won, both historically and individually. And it can be lost.

The underlying liberal motivation for the flattening out of reason, either with the claim that it is an innate human capacity, equally shared by all members of the race, or that it is arbitrary and culturally relative, and therefore equally valid even when widely divergent, stems from the conviction that everyone should have an equal voice, regardless of gender, race, class, sexual orientation, etc. This is, of course, basic to classical liberalism. Prejudice is obviously bad. However, prejudice is not seen to extend to making judgments concerning the quality of somebody’s rational argument. That would be absurd.

But this is precisely where the de-legitimisation of “universal reason” leads. If hegemonic reason is in fact nothing more than the expression of Western Imperialism, or Colonial Patriarchy, then the logical thing to do is to undermine it. And the people best suited and most entitled to undermine it are precisely those groups who are traditionally considered the victims of Western culture. These are the ones we should listen to, not because they have anything interesting to say, or because they make any sense, but because they represent the alternative “marginal” voices overlooked or even suppressed by the Establishment.

So the theory of “Intersectionality” advocates for the empowerment of the dis-empowered by giving the biggest exposure to the most invisible, and the biggest platform to those with the smallest voice. The fact that black lesbian women tend to have quite loud voices already doesn’t seem to dampen the Intersectionalists’ zeal for social justice. In fact it works perfectly, because a shy Pakistani Muslim girl isn’t such a crowd-puller and she probably wouldn’t want everyone to listen to what she has to say anyway.

Where the logic really falls apart is in the insistence that those who, for whatever reason (educational disadvantage primarily), cannot construct a coherent sentence, let alone argument, should be on an equal footing with those who can. Nodding sagely and smiling politely does not make up for the fact that the emperor has no clothes.

Lack of reason goes hand in hand with incivility, partly as a consequence of frustration at not being able to make a rational case in the first place. Then emotion takes over, and the victim narrative quickly rises to the surface. As the old BDP (Boogie Down Productions) sample goes: “You’re quite hostile…” “I got a right to be hostile! My people been persecuted!”

Then reason and civility fly out the window. The old liberal idea is that reason and civility are the minimum requirement for participation in civil discourse and civil society. In classical liberal circles, if you can’t be reasonable and civil, then you have no place in the conversation, whatever your background. Furthermore, if you can’t reason well, then you should really defer to those who can.

Not any more. With reason and civility demoted to the status of middle class, male, white, bourgeois prejudice, there is no longer any compunction to be either “reasonable” or “civilised”. We don’t inhabit a rational universe any more. We have crossed over into a parallel “meme” universe. We are in “Muppet World”.

Unless we recover our faith in reason and civility, the whole edifice of liberal democracy will crumble and eventually fall. Then heaven help the hindmost!

 

At the risk of being grossly reductionist, here is a gross reduction of Jordan Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos to the six archetypes on the “Orthodox Cross”.

Rule 1 : “Stand up straight with your shoulders back”. This is the Warrior archetype. It is also the King archetype. The top lobster is a Warrior King. It defeats the Victim Muggle.

Rule 2: “Treat yourself like someone you are responsible for helping”. There are two you’s here. The you doing the treating and the you being treated. He could have said, “As a Warrior it is your duty to serve your King.” It resists Victimhood.

Rule 3: “Make friends with people who want the best for you”. This points to the need for satsang, good company and the love of true friendship, philia. In other words, surround yourself with people who recognise your innate sovereignty, who also treat you like a King.

Rule 4: “Compare yourself to who you were yesterday, not to who someone else is today.” Again, this is about the self-image we acquire from the people around us. This is how Muggles define themselves. Only the King is exempt from this social comparison on the status hierarchy.

Rule 5: “Do not let your children do anything that makes you dislike them.” As a parent, you have the moral duty to make sure your children behave in line with their own innate sovereignty. Your Warrior must discipline them on behalf of the King or Queen in them.

Rule 6: “Set your house in perfect order before you criticize the world.” This is also the job of the Warrior, since it is about Karma Yoga, right action. Don’t shirk your basic responsibilities by retreating into idealism. Don’t be a Muppet.

Rule 7: “Pursue what is meaningful (not what is expedient).” Here Peterson is appealing to the Philosopher, but also to the Monk. The Philosopher seeks meaning, and the Monk avoids self-serving short cuts.

Rule 8: “Tell the truth – or, at least, don’t lie.” Again we are in the realm of Jnana Yoga, the pursuit of truth by the Philosopher.

Rule 9: “Assume that the person you are listening to might know something you don’t.” Again, be an open-minded Philosopher, not a closed-minded Muppet.

Rule 10: “Be precise in your speech.” The more precise your speech, the more precise your thought. More good advice for the Philosopher.

Rule 11: “Do not bother children when they are skateboarding.” In other words, let children take the necessary risks in order to develop their own Warrior natures and avoid turning into over-protected Victim wimps.

Rule 12: “Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street.” Appreciate and enjoy the simple beauty of life when it presents itself. Cultivate an attitude of wonder and care. This is Bhakti Yoga, the practice of the Monk.

The first six of Peterson’s 12 Rules are more concerned with the Warrior and the King, and with the composite archetype, the “Warrior King”. The second six focus on the Philosopher and the Monk and the “Philosopher Monk”.

These are powerful and effective antidotes to the “chaos” of the Victim, Muggle, Muppet and Addict archetypes on the Wheel of Samsara. However, there seems to be something missing. Peterson pushes the process of character reformation and character building with the Warrior, with direct action and will-power. It is a call to arms. He calls forth our inner Warrior, King, Philosopher and Monk archetypes.

But deep transformation isn’t as easy as that. It isn’t just a matter of heroic self-transcendence and wishful thinking. If you force yourself to stand up straight with your shoulders back and strike a Warrior pose, you will certainly look and feel like a Warrior. And there is plenty of mileage in “acting as if”. But there is still a strong element of “acting”. The Warrior stance may in fact be just a simulacrum, a pretense, a left hemisphere re-presentation of true Warrior spirit.

For genuine transformation to take place, you can’t start with a simple act of will, or with conscious intent. This is little more than positive thinking. The road to Hell is paved with the good intentions of the left hemisphere. This is a problem with self-help programs in general. You can’t pull yourself up by your bootstraps. You’ll just end up getting your knickers in a twist.

Deep, lasting psychological transformation requires you to step out of the ego system altogether, otherwise the ego will always appropriate any changes for its own ends. And it never ends. You will find yourself in interminable analysis or in perpetual war with yourself and the world. The only way out it out. It’s no good walking the line between Order and Chaos, between “explored territory” and “unexplored territory”. You need to put both feet firmly in the right hemisphere. In other words, you need to become a Mystic and a Shaman.

There are no Mystic or Shaman archetypes in Peterson’s system. This is a serious oversight, since there is no escape from samsara without escape from samsara. And samsara is where we invariably end up, no matter how clever and enlightened we think we are.

 

Broadly speaking, there are three orientations to life. By far the most common is the first, which is a naive acceptance of reality, or “the unexamined life”. This is tantamount to total immersion in the Wheel of Samsara. You play the part of a muggle, diva, muppet, addict, victim or demon without the slightest flicker of self-awareness.

The second is a naive rejection of life. This is the condition of people who have examined life and found it wanting. They see through the charade and consequently suffer a chronic crisis of meaning. In the modern West we call this an existential crisis or a mid-life crisis, because it usually takes about forty years or so for the sheen of samsara to fade. These second types may become religious ascetics, puritans, or worse. They are the life-deniers.

The third orientation to life depends on the second. It is also built on a vision of emptiness and meaninglessness. However, it moves beyond the mere rejection of the world for the sake of a higher one. Instead, it discovers meaning in a return from the spiritual plane back down to earth. It is the difference between the Bodhisattva and the Arhat. It is “returning to the marketplace with open hands”. It is Jesus Christ as world redeemer.

In the first place, we are lost in samsara. In the second place, we escape from samsara. In the third place, samsara is redeemed. But it should go without saying that this is not a once and for all achievement. We get lost again and again; we have to escape again and again; and we must find redemption again and again. True, it’s a life of constant struggle, but at a certain point it becomes clear that it is in fact the only life worth living.

 

There is a lot of talk in IDW (Intellectual Dark Web) circles about the “Meaning Crisis”. The general claim seems to be that the secular worldview we have inherited from the Enlightenment is insufficient to satisfy the deep human need for existential meaning. The story of material progress and technological advance just isn’t a big enough story when it comes to the meaning of life.

So where do we find meaning? Well, on one level, there is no meaning crisis. We can find meaning anywhere. What is the meaning of life for an addict? Getting high. What is the meaning of life for a muggle? Belonging. What is meaningful for a victim? Resentment and self-pity. For a muppet? Fighting the good fight. For a diva? A sense of superiority. For a demon? Death and destruction.

The genius of samsara is that there are different sources of meaning. If one starts to wane, just move round the Wheel and pick up another. Bored of the cosy “sorge” world of muggles? Try getting high. You might risk the sense of belonging and acceptance you enjoyed before, but even if you get seriously addicted, you know you’ll be welcomed back eventually. Or you might decide to attack the muggle world, “the system”, and join a band of muppet brothers. Then you’ll derive meaning from your struggle for justice and freedom, from a sense of solidarity with your comrades and ultimately, from martyrdom.

But what happens when you see through the whole show? What if all these sources of meaning seem ultimately hollow and meaningless? What if even the fame and fortune, power and influence of a diva seems utterly pointless? That’s when you have a real meaning crisis. Then you are in the position of King Solomon in Ecclesiastes: “vanity of vanities; all is vanity” or of Camus’ existential anti-hero Meursault: “I had lived my life one way and I could just as well have lived it another. I had done this and I hadn’t done that. I hadn’t done this thing but I had done another. And so?”

This is an uncomfortable place to be. But if you are on a spiritual path, it is unavoidable. If you want to escape samsara, the meaning has to be drained out of it, otherwise you will be continuously pulled back into its orbit. Your desire is directed beyond; your meaning must come from elsewhere. This is fine if you decide to become a hermit or take monastic orders. You can (to a certain extent) remove yourself from samsara. But what if you live in the world?

Jesus said, “If any man comes to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple.” This is a hard saying. It makes sense from a spiritual point of view, but it puts a bit of a downer on everyday life. It’s not easy to live hating everyone. There is a serious problem here. It is not peculiar to Christianity, of course, but affects all religions. In order to transcend the world, you need to hate the world, but if you hate the world, how can you be said to have transcended it?

But Jesus was only talking about disciples. You should only “hate” everyone if you want to be a disciple. Apparently, Jesus only had twelve disciples, which isn’t many. Over and again in the gospels it is made clear that he has one teaching for his disciples and another for everyone else. They are his “inner circle”, privy to the deeper spiritual knowledge reserved for the elect.

So what were the disciples privy to? And why does it mean you have to hate your mother and father? I imagine it would have to do with Jesus’ most dramatic claim, that he was the Son of God: “I and the Father are one”. If we are to take this as the expression of an actual lived experience, as opposed to an abstract, theoretical statement of fact (which would then be the self-appellation of a liar, a fiend or a lunatic), it would have to be an experience of radical unity.

I find the usual Christian view that Jesus called himself the Son of God simply because he was the Son of God totally vacuous. How would you know that you were the Son of God unless you experienced being the Son of God? Or rather, unless you experienced something that warranted those words? Something that the words “Son of God” pointed to? My guess is that an experience of such transcendental insight would be something akin to the experience of unity produced by a high dose of DMT.

If Jesus had such an experience, he would understandably struggle to communicate it. He might say that he was one with God and that he was in everyone and that everyone was in him. But other than sounding pretty, it wouldn’t make much practical sense. If he were to say, “we are really all one person”, his followers would simply retort, “no we’re not”. To support their position, they would only need to point out the simple fact that they were patently not one person but different people. Jesus might respond with something like, “Alright fair enough, but when you transcend your ego and are united with the Universal Consciousness, then you will see that we are actually the same person, even though it seems as though we are different people.”

If the disciples had the same experience of unity, they would know exactly what he was talking about and they would be able to see the unity reflected in each other. They would treat each other with deep recognition and understanding, as if they really were in some mysterious sense the same person. Perhaps they had glimpses of unity. They must have at the very least believed that what Jesus was telling them was true and aspired to share in his vision.

But Jesus was clearly the only one who had the full-blown experience of unity. He was the only one who could say with any confidence that he was in everyone and everyone was in him. So in the end, since he was the only one who knew that he was God, he was the only one who could say that he was God (or more modestly, the Son of God). It then made as much sense to say that his disciples were one in Him as it was to say that they were one in God. He was the living proof of the living God.

If the twelve had all completely understood, if they had all had the same experience, there would have been twelve Sons of God, but then again, because they were all one, there would still actually only be the one, “only-begotten” Son of God. St Paul was alluding to this when he said, “Not I, but Christ lives in me”.

In any case, it seems that only with his death and resurrection did the penny finally drop for the disciples. Until that point, they believed in and followed Jesus, but they didn’t really get what he was on about. They knew how difficult it was to achieve and to retain the vision of unity. Which is why Jesus’ death and resurrection became the symbol of redemption. Jesus couldn’t destroy the world of samsara, the world of division, but He could redeem it. This great insight at the climax of the Christian story made Bodhisattvas out of his disciples and made Christianity a religion of redemption.

Redemption means that it is okay to be on the Wheel of Samsara. It’s okay to be a muggle, a diva, a muppet, an addict, a victim, even a demon. It’s okay to be human. We need to forgive and be forgiven. But this is only possible through “Jesus”, which means, through the vision of unity with God and all humanity. The ultimate meaning of life is incomprehensible to our petty human minds. It is ineffable. It is impossible to communicate to those who haven’t experienced it for themselves. But neither is it possible to remain in that state. We have to come back to the world of duality.

There is a place for spiritual community, where brothers and sisters in Christ can see the unity of God reflected in each other and establish a little Kingdom of Heaven here on Earth, or to use Buddhist terminology, where an Enlightened Sangha can create a Pure Land. This is ultimately what the institutions of Church and Monastery point towards. The hope is that the ultimate unity will be fully realised one day in the Eschaton. Until that day, however, we have to make do with the existential reality we find ourselves in. Until then, we have to accept the world as it is.

The world is redeemed through the vision of ultimate unity, not condemned by it. It becomes meaningful again. There is value and meaning in all six worlds of samsara. It is good to belong. It is good to succeed. It is good to fight for a just cause. Even a bit of greed, hate and fear are okay. But the meaning we derive from these things are not absolute. We can take it all a bit more lightly, with a pinch of salt,  in the knowledge that the greater meaning is beyond the wheel altogether. But this greater meaning does not destroy the lesser meanings. Jesus said, “Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.”

This is the only real solution to the “Meaning Crisis”. The meaning of life is not about rejecting the world. It’s about redeeming it.