Theses on Catholic Social Teaching and Corporate Capitalism 

Thesis One

 

  The corporate capitalist worldview of nature (including human nature) as an inherently meaningless collection of energy and raw materials is radically incompatible with the Christian picture of humanity and nature.

 

Argument:

Corporate capitalism is not merely a system of economic transactions; it embodies a comprehensive worldview that envisions man as a conqueror of nature. This worldview undergirds the modern project of the domination of nature (including human nature) for the purpose of increased power and control (inevitably of some men over others). This is a vision that reduces both the natural world and human existence to resources for exploitation – it justifies that exploitation. Iris Murdoch wrote that "man is an animal that makes pictures of himself and then becomes like the picture," meaning that the self-conception propagated by corporate capitalism not only imagines man as a master and manipulator of his environment but also forces him to live out that image, reinforcing a cycle of alienation and domination. Thus in corporate capitalism, natural resources are viewed primarily as inputs for production rather than as integral parts of a living ecosystem. Forests, rivers, and even the air are treated as commodities to be extracted and sold, an approach that mirrors the conqueror image. Human labor is reduced to a commodity totally under the control of the capitalist profit imperative. Consider the pervasive culture of metrics and performance reviews in corporate settings. Employees are increasingly seen as cogs in a vast machine – evaluated, optimized, and replaced according to the demands of efficiency and profit. This not only diminishes personal dignity but also mirrors the self-imposed image of man as an automaton of productivity, distancing him from a richer, more relational identity as envisioned in Christian thought.

      The modern corporate capitalist system does not merely use technologies and organizational structures to achieve its ends; it fundamentally shapes social consciousness. The imagery of conquest and mastery becomes so embedded that every aspect of life—from the design of digital platforms to the organization of labor—is oriented toward the subjugation and commodification of both nature and human experience. We become locked into a mental prison unable to experience the world as it really it.

     For example, algorithms designed to maximize engagement on social media platforms create environments that promote consumerist values and superficial interactions, reinforcing the idea that human value is tied to measurable productivity and consumption. This technological framework mirrors and reinforces the overarching worldview that every Christian should reject – a worldview that is antithetical to the Christian mandate of care, relationship, and stewardship. (see Wendell Berry, “Christianity and the Survival of Creation,” in Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community.)

    What a stark contrast to the Catholic and Orthodox pictures. Both Catholic and Orthodox traditions affirm that man and nature are gifts from a loving Creator, imbued with inherent goodness and purpose. In this vision, human beings are created in the image of God—endowed with dignity, free will, and a capacity for communion—and are called to participate in God's ongoing creative and redemptive work through stewardship and care for all creation. Nature, far from being a mere resource, is viewed as a sacramental sign of divine beauty and order, inviting humanity to experience and respond to God's love. This understanding demands a relationship where every element of existence reflects the goodness of its source, inspiring a responsible and loving engagement with the world.

 

 

 

Thesis Two

 

  The economy takes the dignity and humanity out of labor.

 

Argument:

  Corporate capitalism reduces individuals to mere economic units—focusing on cost minimization, productivity, and consumption—thereby instrumentalizing human beings rather than recognizing them as persons created in the image of God with intrinsic worth. Whether a factory worker, a retail worker, or a logistics worker, all are treated as replaceable inputs whose value is measured solely by output and efficiency. In contrast, Catholic social teaching asserts that every person has inherent dignity and rights that demand respect beyond mere economic calculation. A corporation will also take away a person’s income and “outsource” the job overseas where they can pay less and where workers may have little or no legal protections.

    Moreover, in corporate capitalism work is reduced to a transactional activity aimed solely at profit generation, and leisure becomes commodified. Practices such as demanding long working hours and fostering a culture of “always on” connectivity lead to burnout – as I witnessed firsthand in my family – and the erosion of family and community life, contrary to the Church’s vision of work and leisure that fosters human flourishing. This distorts work as a form of personal vocation and service, and neglects leisure as an essential space for rest, creativity, and community building – both central themes in Catholic social teaching.

 

 

 

Thesis Three

 

Corporate capitalism erodes community and the principle of subsidiarity. 

Argument:

   By centralizing decision-making in distant corporate headquarters and promoting standardized, mass-market interactions, corporate capitalism undermines local community bonds and the principle of subsidiarity—the idea that decisions should be made at the most local level possible to empower individuals and communities. Decisions made in a corporate boardroom in one country can disrupt local economies and cultures in another, while Catholic teaching emphasizes local engagement and community-based solutions that nurture interpersonal relationships and mutual support.

     Consider Wendell Berry’s depiction of rural America: once vibrant with family farms, local crafts, and community-run stores, these regions have been upended by the rise of industrial agriculture and corporate consolidation. In Berry’s analysis, the shift to monoculture – where vast expanses of land are devoted to a single cash crop using intensive, mechanized methods – displaces the diversified, family-based farming model. As agribusinesses consolidate control over the food supply chain through state subsidies and market dominance, small farms are forced out, leading to the depopulation of rural communities. This not only erodes local economic activity, such as crafts and retail, but also dissolves the social bonds nurtured through local decision-making and mutual dependence. The result is a loss of subsidiarity and community cohesion – a process in which the intimate, place-based character of rural life is replaced by impersonal, distant corporate control. The result is also a loss of culture as local communication is replaced by the centralized media of TV and social media. I witnessed the same process in East Germany after its economy was assimilated.

 

 

Thesis Four 

Corporate capitalism poses a dire threat to the Creation.

 Argument:

    Corporate capitalism’s relentless pursuit of short-term profit often comes at the expense of the planet’s ecological integrity. This approach has led to widespread environmental degradation through industrial pollution, deforestation, biodiversity loss, and climate change that threatens the very fabric of life on Earth. The work of Hans Jonas is particularly instructive here. Jonas argues that modern technological power comes with a profound moral imperative: we must protect the survival of humanity and ensure that our actions do not imperil future generations. This "imperative of responsibility" demands that we act with foresight and prudence, recognizing that the earth is not an inexhaustible resource but a fragile system upon which life depends. Catholic social teaching similarly insists on the responsible stewardship of creation. Documents such as Pope Francis’ Laudato Si’ echo Jonas’ concerns by emphasizing that environmental degradation and climate change are not only ecological or economic issues but profound moral crises that imperil human dignity and the common good. The Church teaches that nature is a gift from a loving Creator—a sacramental sign of divine beauty and order—and that humanity is called to care for it in a spirit of stewardship rather than exploitation. This ethical framework obligates us to consider the long-term impacts of our actions on the planet and on future generations.

     Consider for example the global impacts of industrial agriculture and fossil fuel extraction—a hallmark of corporate capitalism. These practices contribute significantly to climate change, leading to extreme weather events, sea-level rise, and the loss of arable land. This not only disrupts local communities but also threatens the stability and survival of entire regions. For instance, rising temperatures and erratic weather patterns are already jeopardizing food security in vulnerable parts of the world, creating a cascade of social and economic problems that compromise the well-being of future generations. In this light, the corporate capitalist model, by prioritizing immediate gains over ecological and intergenerational sustainability, stands in direct opposition to responsible stewardship.

 

 

 Thesis Five 

     In the Thomist Christian vision, true humanity is achieved through the cultivation of both the cardinal virtues (prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude) and the theological virtues (faith, hope, charity) within a nurturing community. However, the structural imperatives of corporate capitalism—its emphasis on individualism, market competition, and consumerism—undermine the formation of such communities, making it exceedingly difficult for individuals to develop the virtuous character necessary for authentic human flourishing.

 

Argument:

     Thomist anthropology holds that human beings, created in the image of God, are destined for perfection through the habitual practice of virtue. Virtues are not isolated personal achievements but are cultivated within a community where moral practices, shared values, and mutual accountability reinforce one another. For example, the practice of charity is deepened by relationships of trust and mutual care that can only thrive in a community that values the common good over individual gain.

      Corporate capitalism prioritizes profit maximization, efficiency, and short-term success. This system encourages individuals to view themselves primarily as economic agents—workers, consumers, or shareholders—rather than as members of a moral community. In such an environment, personal success is often measured by material accumulation and market performance rather than by the development of virtuous character. The competitive drive inherent in corporate capitalism tends to foster self-interest over solidarity, making the practice of virtues like justice and charity improbable (just look around you).

    The corporate capitalist model, moreover, often results in the fragmentation of community life. Long working hours, job insecurity, and the pressures of constant economic performance leave little time or space for communal engagement, reflection, or moral formation. For instance, large, impersonal corporations replace family farms and local businesses with standardized operations that value efficiency over community engagement, thereby eroding the social fabric necessary for the communal nurturing of virtues. And the consumer culture promoted by corporate capitalism places emphasis on acquiring and displaying material goods as a marker of success. This relentless focus on consumption distracts individuals from cultivating inner virtues and from engaging in practices that promote spiritual and moral growth. The pursuit of material wealth, at the expense of ethical reflection and communal bonding, directly contradicts the Christian call to live a life informed by faith, hope, and charity.

      Wendell Berry shows how the shift from small-scale, community-based economies to corporate-controlled agribusiness has dismantled the intimate networks that support moral and spiritual formation. Family farms and local markets once provided not only food but also spaces for mutual support, dialogue, and the practice of virtues like hospitality and justice. The corporate drive for consolidation and efficiency has decimated these local institutions, replacing them with impersonal, profit-driven operations that leave little room for the shared experiences essential for developing virtuous character.

 

Thesis Six 

The profit imperative undermines the social good in critical sectors

 Argument:

   Corporate capitalism’s unrelenting focus on profit often forces essential services—such as healthcare, defense, and media—into a conflict between generating revenue and serving the public welfare. In these sectors, the drive for financial gain can lead to practices that compromise affordability, ethical decision-making, and truthfulness, thereby endangering the very social goods they are meant to provide.

 

Healthcare:

  The medical industry exemplifies this conflict when life-saving medications like insulin become prohibitively expensive despite their relatively low production costs. The profit motive encourages price hikes and restricted access, leaving many who depend on such drugs without affordable care. This situation starkly contrasts with the ethical imperative to safeguard human life and well-being. The capitalist economies of Europe have done something at least to ameliorate the preying of the pharmacy industry on the people and provide access to health care for everyone. 

 

Defense (Military-Industrial Complex):

  In the defense sector, private contractors and corporations may influence national policies to favor continuous or expanded military spending. This profit-driven approach can result in inflated defense budgets, the prioritization of lucrative contracts over genuine security needs, and even the perpetuation of conflict, all of which divert attention from the public’s real needs for safety and responsible governance.

 

Media (The Public’s Need for Truth):

    Corporate media, driven by the need to maximize ratings and ad revenue, often prioritizes sensationalism over substantive journalism. This quest for profit can lead to biased reporting, the distortion of facts, and a neglect of investigative rigor—undermining the public’s access to reliable, objective information that is crucial for a functioning democracy. Truth is an essential need and corporate media cannot give us that.

The Food Industry (including agrobusiness)

      The corporate food industry exemplifies how capitalism’s profit-driven imperatives stand in opposition to human dignity, ethical responsibility, and environmental sustainability. By prioritizing financial gain over health, humane treatment, and ecological balance, the industrial food system creates systemic harms that undermine both individual well-being and the integrity of God’s creation. A more just food economy would be one that respects the land, nourishes people without exploitation, and upholds the moral responsibilities of stewardship. 

     The food industry relies on artificial preservatives, pesticides, and processed ingredients that prioritize shelf life and profitability over human health. Sugar-laden products, particularly targeted at children, foster addiction and contribute to rising rates of obesity, diabetes, and metabolic disorders. Instead of nourishing communities, the industrial food system exploits consumer vulnerabilities for financial gain, disregarding the moral responsibility to promote well-being. An industry of food directed not to the good of health but to harmful addictions.

     Corporate agribusiness subjects animals to brutal conditions in the name of efficiency and profit. Factory farming treats living beings as mere commodities – units of production I once heard chickens being slaughtered referred to – packing them into inhumane spaces, subjecting them to unnatural diets, and prioritizing rapid growth over ethical husbandry. This approach violates the Christian understanding of stewardship, which calls for humane and just treatment of all creatures as part of God’s creation.

      Industrial agriculture depletes natural resources at an unsustainable rate, leading to soil erosion, water contamination, and biodiversity loss. Monocropping, chemical fertilizers, and excessive irrigation degrade the land and make future food production more precarious. Catholic social teaching calls for responsible stewardship of the earth, yet corporate agribusiness prioritizes short-term profits over the long-term health of the land and the communities that depend on it.

 

   In each of these examples, the imperative to increase profits directly conflicts with the social good. Whether it is making essential medications unaffordable, compromising national security priorities, or distorting public discourse, the profit-driven motives of corporate capitalism stand in stark opposition to the ethical responsibilities of providing care, ensuring safety, and upholding truth. This conflict illustrates a fundamental incompatibility: a system that values financial gain over human dignity and the common good ultimately undermines the social conditions necessary for a flourishing society. How can this be compatible with Catholic social teaching?

 

 

The Church – the institution – has an age-old bad habit of arranging itself with the powers that be, starting with the Roman Empire, continuing with feudalism, monarchy, and fascism - and now corporate capitalism. The institution tends to mask the radical incompatibility between the truth it proclaims and the world of which it is a part. I see the dilemma. But the Church is there to proclaim the truth, let the chips fall where they may. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Theses on the Postmodern Left

I am experimenting with a line of thought that goes like this. I believe justice requires all human beings be treated justly regardless of race, religion, sex, caste, or any other ascriptive factors. As a Christian, I believe it is my duty to love other human beings in the sense of willing their good and doing what is required of me to promote that good so far I can understand it – whether I happen to Iike them or admire them or not. I think it good that truth be told about the history of oppression: in America, the history of slavery, of ethnic cleansing, of violence against women, etc. That no human being is a “noble savage” matters not in the least here. I am not a saint, but that does not give another the right to keep me down with a boot on my throat.

    Yet I am troubled by the kind of "postmodern" identity politics that almost sees the meaning of life in the "freedom" to define your gender or "identity" such that the "marginalized" groups are privileged and the "other" (white men mostly) are suspect unless they wallow in guilt for the past sins of their kind. Two things trouble me above all. 1) the making a totalitarian-seeming ideology of this "Wokeness" (philosophical roots in Foucault, Derrida, and their followers) such that everything is the past is bad and every artwork - e.g. movies about fairy tales - has to be rewritten to make it compatible with the ideology. This seems exactly like what the former socialist states did with their ideology, or the Nazis, or even the Medieval Church at its worst (which was often). 2) I suspect this love of identity and victimhood has its roots in a narcissism that, as Christopher Lasch argued, has its roots in what social changes capitalism has wrought. I could do the same thing with MAGA, essentially the same phenomenon from another perspective. So here are some theses. Just theses.

 

Thesis 1: Postmodern Identity Politics Evolves into a Totalitarian Ideology of Narrative Purity

The reconfigured narratives championed by the postmodern left impose a singular, morally pristine account of history and culture, where deviation is rendered suspect

Imagine a regime where every public speech, every artwork, must pass an ideological litmus test—a strict code that forbids nuance. In contemporary “discourse” of the postmodern left, cultural treasures such as classic fairy tales are frequently rewritten, not merely updated, to excise any hint of historical ambiguity. For instance, modern adaptations of stories like Snow White recast traditional roles into binary archetypes of oppressor and oppressed. This is analogous to a totalitarian system that distorts history to enforce a doctrinaire vision, leaving no space for the complexities that once enriched the narrative tapestry of human experience. Reminds me of how the GDR recast everything through the filter of Marxism-Leninism or the Nazis everything through the filter of their racial ideology. (Actually, the GDR did allow some truthful art in the 80's.)

     Just look at the modern adaptation of Snow White that casts the heroine as a fierce, independent Latina. In this version, not only are traditional gender roles upended, but the narrative is also reshaped into a clear battle between an oppressive past and a liberatory future. The film presents a rigid moral dichotomy where the heroine’s success is measured solely by her ability to reject old paradigms, much like a state enforcing a single, approved narrative and suppressing any deviation from its moral code.

 

Thesis 2: The Narcissistic Cultivation of Victimhood Is a Direct Response to Capitalist Alienation

Capitalist societies, with their emphasis on individualism and consumer identity, foster a narcissistic impulse that manifests for some in the exaltation of personal and group victimhood (in others like the MAGA movement in nativist fantasies – two sides of the same coin).

   Envision a hall of mirrors where every individual’s reflection is amplified into an image of personal grievance. Under the pressures of a capitalist system that often leaves individuals feeling isolated and commodified, and where the market as become the dominant form of social consciousness (the master metaphor),  identity politics transforms victimhood into a badge of honor—a sort of moral capital. Like a collector hoarding rare stamps, people accumulate narratives of suffering as a means of validating their self-worth. This transformation of personal hardship into an emblem of ideological superiority echoes the transformation of raw, multifaceted human experience into a series of marketable identities, each vying for recognition in the ideological marketplace.

   Take, for example, a social media campaign that focuses on historical and personal injustices suffered by marginalized groups. Participants share carefully curated images and stories designed to evoke empathy and signal moral superiority. In such campaigns, the focus shifts from addressing systemic issues to showcasing individual suffering, turning personal pain into a competitive form of social capital. This mirrors the narcissistic impulse where the expression of victimhood becomes a way to command attention and validation in a market-driven cultural landscape. The people – perhaps truly the ancestors of the oppressed and indeed perhaps suffering real injustice in the present – began to see themselves as Rousseau’s “noble savages.” Caricaturing their humanity and the real injustice involved. Making compassion from the groups they “other” difficult or impossible.

 

Thesis 3: The Quest for Universal Justice Is Undermined by Divisive Identity Narratives

A shift from universal principles of justice to segmented, identity-specific claims fractures the common moral ground necessary for collective progress.

  Imagine society as a grand mosaic, where each unique tile contributes to a coherent, shared picture. The insistence on framing reality solely in terms of discrete identities—such as oppressor versus oppressed—risks shattering that mosaic into isolated fragments. When debates become about which group has suffered more or which narrative is more “authentic,” the possibility of uniting around a common human dignity is trashed. It is as if, in the quest for recognition, the very ground of shared experience is taken away, leaving behind only competing claims rather than a true vision of justice.

 

Thesis 4: The Politics of Memory Transforms History into a Didactic Tool

Historical narratives are increasingly recast as moral lessons designed to justify contemporary political agendas, rather than as objective accounts of complex events. Like a fairy tale in the real world. This does injustice to the victims of injustice as well as the oppressors.

    Consider history as a rich, layered tapestry, woven from countless threads of human experience. Under the influence of identity politics, this tapestry is often re-edited into a textbook of moral parables—each story streamlined to serve as evidence of systemic injustice. This process is similar to rewriting a classic novel, where extraneous details are removed to highlight a single, moralistic storyline. By doing so, the inherent complexity of historical events is lost, replaced by a neat, didactic account that supports a predetermined ideological narrative rather than fostering critical engagement with the past.

  A case of this ideological repurposing of history can be seen in the way the American and European colonial pasts are now often presented in educational materials. While past histories glossed over the horrors of imperialism, some contemporary revisions reduce these complex histories into a simple moral tale of absolute villains and innocent victims (noble savages). For instance, school curricula may emphasize only the brutality of European colonialism while neglecting historical instances of how local elites facilitating colonialism, or of indigenous warfare, internal slavery, or even cross-cultural exchanges and resistance movements. The fact that there are probably no noble savages doesn’t justify imperialism at all. The point is the sentimentalized version of history distorts truth to feed current identity politics. This selective approach resembles the way Soviet historiography systematically rewrote past events to fit the ideological needs of the present—erasing figures who no longer fit the Party’s narrative or retroactively assigning heroic roles to certain classes. The result is that history ceases to be a dynamic field of inquiry and instead becomes a set of moral lessons designed to reinforce contemporary ideological positions. Rather than helping students engage with history critically, this approach fosters an emotional response that encourages identification with a predetermined moral script.

 

Thesis 5: The Idealization of Suffering Turns Personal and Collective Pain into Symbolic Currency

In the realm of identity politics, suffering is not only experienced but is also elevated to a symbol of moral superiority, functioning as a form of currency in the ideological economy.

    Picture suffering as a rare coin – one that is collected, exchanged, and even flaunted as evidence of one’s rightful place within a moral hierarchy. In this framework, personal and communal hardships are transformed into badges of honor, each tear and each narrative of pain serving as a token of authenticity. This commodification of suffering mirrors a financial market where emotional capital is the prize, encouraging individuals to measure their worth by the depth of their misfortune rather than by their capacity for transformation. Consequently, the celebration of victimhood can sometimes distract from the tangible work needed to overcome adversity, reducing the struggle for justice to a series of emotionally charged transactions.

    Just think about political rallies or online movements where personal testimonials of pain are shared and celebrated as proof of one’s commitment to a cause. For instance, during discussions on social justice, individuals might present their personal histories of discrimination or trauma, which then become the primary measure of their legitimacy within the movement. This practice turns personal suffering into a commodity that not only validates one’s identity but also serves as an emotional bargaining chip in debates, sometimes overshadowing the need for concrete, systemic change.

 

Thesis 6: Sentimentality Is the Lens Through Which Reality Is Reimagined

The Foucaultian left transforms raw social experience by filtering it through a sentimental lens, turning affect into an instrument of ideological truth.

    Just as a stained-glass window refracts sunlight into a spectrum of colors, so too does sentimentality refract the complexities of life into neatly defined hues of victimhood and triumph. For example, when classic narratives are reworked—consider a version of Snow White where the heroine is a self-reliant Latina—what might have been a simple fairy tale is transformed into a tableau of personal empowerment and cultural redemption. The affective glow of such reinterpretations invites audiences to see not merely a story but a mirror reflecting their own fantasies of justice and recognition.

   A kind of public daydreaming, as Freud perspicuously analyzed in his “Der Dichter und das Phantasieren” (Artists and Fantasizing). Freud’s explores how artistic creation originates in fantasy, linking it to the wish-fulfillment mechanisms of childhood play and neurotic symptoms. He argues that the writer transforms private fantasies – often driven by repressed desires – into socially acceptable narratives, allowing the audience to indulge in similar daydreams under the guise of high art. In the case of sentimentality, we see a psychological process akin to what Freud describes: instead of engaging with reality in its full complexity, sentimental narratives construct an idealized world where emotions are exaggerated, conflicts are simplified, and suffering is moralized in a way that flatters the ego. This operates as a defense mechanism, shielding individuals from unpleasant truths while indulging their narcissistic need for self-affirmation. Just as Freud describes the neurotic’s retreat into fantasy as an escape from the frustrations of reality, sentimentality fosters a collective illusion—one in which historical guilt can be alleviated through symbolic representation, identity can be reinvented without friction, and moral righteousness is effortlessly obtained through emotional identification with the “right” kind of victim. In this way, sentimentality does not simply falsify reality; it reshapes it according to the narcissistic demands of those who consume it, much like Freud’s daydreamer reshapes the world of fantasy to compensate for unsatisfied desires.

 

Thesis 7: Sentimentality Falsifies Reality by Reducing Nuance to Binary Oppositions

By privileging emotional expression over analytical complexity, sentimental rhetoric oversimplifies social reality into categories of oppressor and oppressed.

     Imagine a black-and-white sketch that, while evocative, loses the depth of a full-color portrait. Similarly, the sentimental approach, with its focus on dramatic emotional arcs, turns multifaceted human experiences into stark binaries. This is evident when historical narratives are rewritten: the once-ambiguous shades of social dynamics are rendered as clear-cut tales of injustice and redemption. In doing so, the subtle interplay of social forces—much like the gradients in a masterful painting—is flattened into a simplistic, if moving, allegory.

 

Thesis 8: Narcissistic Self-Projection Is Integral to Sentimental Identity Politics

The sentimental mode of self-expression encourages individuals and groups to project an idealized, often self-adulatory image onto themselves, seeking affirmation through emotional validation.

     As Narcissus gazed into the reflective surface of a still pond, modern subjects are invited to see in the heroic figures of reimagined narratives a reflection of their own desired virtues. In the re-envisioned Snow White, the heroine’s journey is not just a tale of liberation but also an invitation for audiences to imbue their self-conception with a similar moral grandeur. The intense focus on personal empowerment and victimhood can become a form of narcissistic mirroring, where the celebration of one’s own resilience is both the means and the end of political expression.

 

Thesis 9: Historical Narratives Are Rewritten to Fit the Aesthetic of Sentimentality

Under the influence of sentimental rhetoric, history is not recounted but rather reinterpreted as a continuous narrative of moral struggle and eventual redemption.

     Think of a historical record as a complex tapestry woven from countless threads of experience. The sentimental approach, however, tends to isolate and amplify select threads, reweaving the tapestry into a singular narrative of oppression overcome by heroic defiance. The process is akin to editing a classic novel: entire chapters may be recast to highlight certain moral lessons while omitting the messy, unheroic details. In doing so, the past is not engaged with in its full complexity but is instead reshaped into a story that fits the aesthetic of contemporary ideological needs.

 

Thesis 10: Affect Functions as Currency in the Political Economy of Identity

In a sentimental framework, emotions are commodified—exchanged as markers of ideological worth and as proof of one’s moral standing.

     Just as money circulates in an economy, feelings circulate in the realm of identity politics as capital that can be spent, invested, or hoarded. An emotive outcry over injustice, or a cathartic display of resilience, is treated not merely as an expression but as a currency that validates one’s position within a moral community. For example, a film that underscores the emotional pain of historical marginalization invites viewers to “spend” their empathy in support of the cause, thereby transforming personal affect into a political resource. This transactional view of emotion reinforces the notion that our inner lives are the ultimate measure of ideological commitment.

 

Thesis 11: Sentimental Idealism Ultimately Obscures the Real Work of Political Tra nsformation

While offering immediate emotional gratification, the sentimental mode risks reducing social and political struggle to an aesthetic experience, bypassing the hard work of systemic change.

     Imagine a beautiful mural that captivates and inspires but does little to repair the crumbling wall it adorns. In much the same way, sentimental narratives – rich in emotional appeal of a counterfeit nature – can seduce us into believing that moral progress has been achieved without engaging in the rigorous, often painful work of restructuring society. Focussing on effect, while moving, may lull us into complacency; celebrating symbolic victories may overshadow the concrete steps needed to address persistent structural inequalities. Thus, sentimentality, by turning political engagement into a series of emotionally charged images, may detract from the sustained effort required to bring about real change.

 

Thesis 12: What is called “WOKE” (I dislike this term for it originally had a different meaning, one I approve of) – the reverse mirror of MAGA – is another example of how capitalism assimilates potentially revolutionary movements and domesticates them. (cf. Herbert Marcuse, One-Dimensional Man, a book I recall from my student days.)

 

a)    Capitalism as an Adaptive System. Rather than simply repressing opposition, capitalism co-opts and commodifies it. Radical ideas—whether political, social, or cultural—are stripped of their revolutionary edge and repackaged in a way that makes them palatable, even profitable. This allows capitalism to appear progressive and dynamic, while in reality, it neutralizes the transformative potential of the critique. 1960s Counterculture, for example, with its anti-materialist ethos, sexual liberation, and critique of consumerism, was absorbed into the very system it opposed. Free love became a marketing tool for selling everything from fashion to entertainment, while the rejection of materialism was repackaged as a personal lifestyle choice rather than a structural critique of capitalism. Today, wellness industries, mindfulness apps, and bohemian-chic brands allow consumers to "opt out" of the rat race—by purchasing a different set of products. The system does not eliminate critique; it turns it into a market niche.

 

b)   The Case of Identity Politics and ‘Woke Capitalism.’ The contemporary emphasis on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) has followed a similar trajectory. What may have begun as a serious critique of systemic injustice has been integrated into corporate branding, advertising, and HR policies. Major corporations now champion progressive causes—not necessarily because they are committed to real structural change, but because aligning with these movements enhances brand loyalty and market share. The irony is that the same multinational corporations that benefit from exploitative labor practices can rebrand themselves as champions of social justice simply by featuring diverse actors in their commercials or making symbolic political statements.

 

c)    The Mechanism: Depoliticization Through Sentimentality. Capitalism’s absorption of critique works by replacing structural analysis with sentimentality. Instead of addressing economic inequality, systemic injustice, or the conditions that create marginalization, the discourse is shifted toward personal feelings, representation, and symbolic victories. Consumers are offered the chance to feel virtuous through ethical consumption—buying the right brands, watching the right films, or using the right pronouns—while the underlying economic structures remain untouched.

 

d)    Feminism as a Brand. Originally, feminism aimed at dismantling patriarchal structures in both the workplace and the home. As long as this does not imply women becoming as bad as patriarchally-minded men – a woman CEO of a hedge fund is just as much in the service of a oppressive regime as a man CEO – I support any attempt to resist keeping women or anybody else down. Today, however, feminism is often presented as a matter of self-empowerment through consumption. "Girlboss" culture turns structural critiques of labor exploitation into slogans for individual success. A cosmetics company might claim to be feminist because it features diverse models or promotes body positivity while still profiting from underpaid labor in developing countries. The radical critique of economic injustice is thus transformed into an empowering "choice" within the existing system.

 

Thesis 13: The Root Problem is Capitalism

  The power of the modern corporation over practically every society on the face of the earth to control human consciousness, exploit the peoples of the earth and the earth itself on a global scale, and dissolve community bonds among people (and among communities and nature) is what must be ended. Its power over the state to write its own rules, over working people, over local communities, over nature, over consciousness (not only through its control of media but work and leisure and thus family life as well) – this power must be taken away. Peacefully I hope. I don’t want a terror like in the French Revolution. I don’t want to kill anyone much less liquidate a whole class. I just want their boots off our throats - our meaning most of the people of the earth. We may very well need a market, but the market cannot be allowed to take over the whole city as it has (Sandel). But anything that detracts from the problem of corporate capitalism is ideology.

   My own economic philosophy is eclectic:  I share most of the views Wendell Berry and E. F. Schumacher; I am sympathetic to the “alternative technology” movement of the 1970’s. I think the Catholic social teaching, interpreted honestly and courageously, would also move in that direction. Some aspects of Fabian socialism I agree with. Some free market is needed – with the proviso that it serves local communities and not destroy them. Whatever works as long as it respects people, and the families that people need, and the communities that families need, and the nature the communities need. Whatever works as long as it honors human dignity and the Creation by doing away with this wicked world-picture of a meaningless, indifferent nature of raw materials and energies to be mined and harnessed for capitalist technology and the individual presumably autonomous in the sense that a consumer is autonomous choosing between commodities (whereby everything is a commodity from work to religion).

    First, some form of democracy must be established that takes away capitalism’s monopoly over communication, in which there was freedom to present the devastating case against it. I think once people are freed from the mental prison they have been born into – Plato’s cave – all the Wokes and Magas and Tea parties and “moderate” liberals would give way to discussions based on reality and not ideology. Nothing will change for the better until we are free of this totalitarian economy. 

 Part of my Teaching

After I read a batch of papers, I write a summary focusing on the main general problems in the students' arguments. Thus...

Dear writers,

I have finished the music drafts and am working on the fairy tale papers now. Interesting to note that most of you argue against limiting expose to music but for limiting exposure to fairy tales. I would be interested to know what accounts for this? The fairy tale princess more dangerous than the misogynist rap song?

    Be that as it may. With respect to the music papers, many of you argue for not limiting exposure but integrating this openness with rational discussion to enlighten the young about the nature of the music. I would point out that this might beg an important question of the critical reader: the ability to think well and be influenced by sound arguments already presupposes emotional intelligence. So to take an example outside music, a person who thinks like Woodruff might argue that a person accustomed to hardcore pornography may find it difficult to see the degradation and dehumanization inherent in it. If their emotional responses have been trained to see it as a harmless pleasure rather than as a corruption of human dignity/sexuality, they will likely reject rational arguments about its moral and psychological harm. Their failure to feel appropriate shame and reverence—emotional dispositions that recognize human dignity—renders them blind to the truth that reason seeks to reveal. Thus to argue for allowing adolescents to use it with the proviso that therapists, say, enlighten them on its dangers fails to account for the necessary precondition that allows them to recognize the depictions as dangerous: an emotional disposition to see men and women as souls rather than objects. A person’s emotional meaning-blindness to this will lead to an ability to be convinced by rational argument. How can you respond to this, if you want to make the appeal to reason argument?

Also concerning the ‘people respond to music subjectively’ arguments – same point. How a person responds depends on upbringing. That a person like trump responds differently from a loving, decent person is clear – say to people who have fled civil war and poverty. But Woodruff’s point is to raise loving decent people requires training emotional responses – partly through music (and stories for the fairy tale people). How would you writers who lay stress on the subjectivity of response reply to this key point? (Not all subjective responses are equal.)

The issue is whether emotional intelligence (loving the good, true, and beautiful; responding with aversion to the vicious, ugly, distorted) is a precondition for rational understanding – or? 

Also beware of the ad populum fallacy: just because x calls certain aspects of contemporary society into question is no argument against x. If x is true, then it is contemporary society that is in the wrong. The only question is whether x is justified – assuming x is a matter of truth and not taste. 

If you think x is a matter of taste and not truth, and your reader thinks x is a matter of truth, then the burden of proof is on you. So Woodruff thinks education and music are matters of truth: that music can objectively express good or bad values, and making certain kinds of music a part of a young person’s life can move them in one direction or the other.

I have been enjoying the papers so far. Very interesting!

 Reflections on Reality and Imagination

                                                                          Strattford Caldecott (1953-2014)

Have been reading The Power of the Ring: The Spiritual Vision Behind The Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit, by Stratford Caldecott. Good read. Among the many themes is the “elvishness” or “fairy,” as indicated in this passage:

The desire to see Elves, like the desire to see a dragon, is not merely a desire to see a particular kind of exotic creature but a desire for Faërie, the world, realm, or state in which such creatures have their being. If we really found a fire-breathing lizard in a zoo, that would be very boring: not what we were looking for at all. The other realm is desired precisely because it is “imaginary.” It is desired because of something we find there, of which the very substance of that world is somehow composed. Some have called this “magic” but…Tolkien prefers the word “enchantment.” It is not an escape from reality.

 

Then he quotes a passage from Tolkien’s essay on fairy tales: 

Faërie contains many things besides elves and fays, and besides dwarfs, witches, trolls, giants, or dragons: it holds the seas, the sun, the moon, the sky; and the earth, and all the things that are in it: tree and bird, water and stone, wine and bread, and ourselves, mortal men, when we are enchanted.

 

The point is all these things become enchanted. Faërie makes more luminous the things of our world. Like Plato’s archetypes: they are perhaps a deeper form of the archetypical than Plato’s abstract ideas, for the imagination reaches far deeper than the mere intellect. Again, Tolkien is quoted:

 

By the forging of Gram cold iron was revealed; by the making of Pegasus horses were ennobled; in the Trees of the Sun and Moon root ant stock, flower and fruit are manifested in glory.

 

Thus Tolkien relates that it was first in fairy-tales that he “first divined the potency of words, and the wonder of things, such as stone, and wood, and iron; tree and grass; house and fire; bread and wine.” And now I will let Caldecott continue the thought:

 

The realm of Faërie is an imaginary world, which is to say that it is made from images of real things as a pot is made of clay or a painting is made of paint. Yet we go there seeking a light that we cannot find in the primary world. The action of making or experiencing such a world is in part a creative act; we are in fact claiming our birthright to “make by the law in which we’re made”; made, that is, in the image and likeness of a Maker.” The imaginal is where we sense most strongly the essence of creativity, of the divine imagination that conceives and gives life to the primary world. It is where words are born. It is the world where things could be other than they are, or time, because it is seen against a background that looms much closer in Faërie: the background of pure light, or pure darkness.

. . .

I remember going into the forest of Eastern Kentucky (Red River Gorge) after not really having entered a real forest since childhood in the Smokey Mountains. I was struck by a kind of joy and said – “just like Fanghorn Forest!” My first thought was of Tolkien’s ‘fairy’ woods. I could only see the forest in the primary world as “enchanted” in the light of the imaginary forest I had imagined so vividly as a reader of Tolkien. (I read the Lord of the Rings practically every summer from 18 to 26, and thereafter whenever I felt “depressed.”) I don’t think my feeling that the forest in Red River Gorge was enchanted was a subjective projection onto “natural resources” or “raw material”; there was nothing sentimental about it. I think Fanghorn allowed me to see the reality of the forest in the primary world I would otherwise have been blind to. The meaning, moreover, of “fallen” becomes clear: to see the world cut off from the light that I found in the imaginative work of Tolkien. I know what sin is because of this experience.

 Peter Kreeft makes the same point in his book about Tolkien: The Philosophy of Tolkien: The Worldview Behind The Lord of the Rings.

In The Lord of the Rings everything seems to be more itself, more Platonic. The earth is more earthy, nature is more natural, history is more historical, the genealogies more genealogical the tragedy more tragic, the joy more joyful, the caverns more cavernous, the forests more foresty, and the heroes more heroic.

   Indeed, the four forests mentioned in The Lord of the Rings have more character, more identity than most human characters in most novels. You could not possibly confuse the Old Forest, Lothlorien, Fanghorn, and Mirkwood with each other. If you found yourself in any one of them, you would instantly know which. When we read The Lord of the Rings, why do these forests seem “real” or “true”? Why do we believe them? Not because they are like the forests we have walked through in this world, but because the forests we have walked through in this world were a little like them. Tolkien’s forests do not remind us of ours; ours remind us of his.

 

That is just how I experienced it.

 

. . .

 

I have to think of babies in this light. Amazing how defenseless babies are. If a man murders a lover to protect his reputation or whatever, it's murder and he can be punished. If it is a baby, he can want it killed with no worldly consequence, and if he is godless anyway he won't care about the death of his soul. Only the mother in the end can protect the life of an unborn child. Amazing when you think about it. Power over life and death. Makes all the difference whether she sees babies in the light of love or in the darkness of the capitalist-liberal-godless world. Christmas before capitalism destroyed it provided an archetype of the human baby – very much as Tolkien’s forest provided an archetype of the Kentucky forest I walked in. And Mary provides an archetype (not stereotype!) of woman. Feminists of a certain type will cringe here; woman and men who could only think it sentimental to see an unborn baby in this light, ruin one’s career or personal “happiness” over an unintended, unwanted pregnancy. If a tree is blocking my view, cut it down. For me that is the difference between living in sin, which is to say being cut off from reality, truth, and living in sin while longing for reality and truth, which is to say love of the world. There is an unbridgeable chasm between a person who sees a baby in the light of a pure love (such as Mary’s) and one who sees it as an unwanted biological part of a woman’s body that can be easily removed. Different incommensurable alternative universes. In my view light and darkness.

. . .

None of us live in the light. We can glimpse it on special occasions – during Mass, reading Tolkien, walking in a forest, witnesses the birth of your child. But we are all human; we get drawn back into the prosaic state of mind, and cannot see the enchantment of the world. As Max Weber said, modernity disenchanted (entzauberte) the world. Here is the thought expressed in the 7^th Elegy of Rilke, who bravely fought against this disenchantment.

 

To be here at all is a glory.

You knew it, maidens,

even those of you seemingly

passed over, sinking into

the city’s meanest streets,

festering alleys choked with

trash and stinking of excretions.

Each of you had her hour,

or if not an hour,

an instant, at least,

between two moments when

life burst into flower.

Every blessed petal.

Your veins throbbed with it.

But we so soon forget what

our laughing neighbor neither

applauds nor envies.

We desire that they be admired,

but even the most visible

of joys cannot be seen

until transformed-within.

Nowhere, beloved, does any

world exist save that within.

 So sinner though we are, to long for the world as it was made, to suffer that kind of Sehnsucht, defines a certain type of human possibility. It is not a desire to flee the earth for a purely spiritualized Heaven but to be in the world as originally created in all its glory. It is a way of staying “true to the earth” much different from Nietzsche’s. To lose this longing is to be condemned in a prison house and forget there is a world outside the prison. But it is the same world, a prison or a paradise. It depends on whether it is “transformed-within.”

     C. S. Lewis described in his autobiographical Surprised by Joy this painful longing for transcendence within the world as joy: 

I call it Joy. 'Animal-Land' was not imaginative. But certain other experiences were... The first is itself the memory of a memory. As I stood beside a flowering currant bush on a summer day there suddenly arose in me without warning, and as if from a depth not of years but of centuries, the memory of that earlier morning at the Old House when my brother had brought his toy garden into the nursery. It is difficult to find words strong enough for the sensation which came over me; Milton's 'enormous bliss' of Eden (giving the full, ancient meaning to 'enormous') comes somewhere near it. It was a sensation, of course, of desire; but desire for what?... Before I knew what I desired, the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse... withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased... In a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else... The quality common to the three experiences... is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again... I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and Pleasure often is.

 

And in his essay “Three Ways of Writing for Children,” Lewis connects this joy to imaginative works that open the doors to Faërie: 

Do fairy tales teach children to retreat into a world of wish-fulfillment— ‘fantasy’ in the technical psychological sense of the word— instead of facing the problems of the real world? Now it is here that the problem becomes subtle. Let us again lay the fairy tale side by side with the school story or any other story which is labeled a ‘Boy’s Book’ or a ‘Girl’s Book’, as distinct from a ‘Children’s Book.’ There is no doubt that both arouse, and imaginatively satisfy, wishes. We long to go through the looking glass, to reach fairyland. We also long to be the immensely popular and successful schoolboy or schoolgirl, or the lucky boy or girl who discovers the spy’s plot or rides the horse that none of the cowboys can manage. But the two longings are very different. The second, especially when directed on something so close as school life, is ravenous and deadly serious. Its fulfillment on the level of imagination is in very truth compensatory: we run to it from the disappointments and humiliations of the real world: it sends us back to the real world undividedly discontented. For it is all flattery to the ego.

    The pleasure consists in picturing oneself the object of admiration. The other longing, that for fairyland, is very different. In a sense a child does not long for fairy land as a boy longs to be the hero of the first eleven. Does anyone suppose that he really and prosaically longs for all the dangers and discomforts of a fairy tale?—really wants dragons in contemporary England? It is not so. It would be much truer to say that fairy land arouses a longing for he knows not what. It stirs and troubles him (to his life-long enrichment) with the dim sense of something beyond his reach and, Tar from dulling or emptying the actual world, gives it a new ‘dimension of depth. He does not despise real woods because he has read of enchanted woods: the reading makes all real woods a little enchanted. This is a special kind of longing. The boy reading the school story of the type I have in mind desires success and is unhappy (once the book is over) because he can’t get it: the boy reading the fairy tale desires and is happy in the very fact of desiring. For his mind has not been concentrated on himself, as it often is in the more realistic story.

 

 

 Depression

Psychiatrist: Judging by your lab results and the circumstances of your life, you must suffer from depression.

Me: How can I be depressed when I feel fine? That is an idee fixe in you, trying to persuade me of that. People get depressed because their lives lack love, meaning, purpose, and beauty. None of those things are missing in my life. Yes, a lot of bullshit and evil to deal with in this world, that gets a man down. That only means I am sane. Please stop trying to brainwash me that I have some psychic disease. You would have more luck getting me to believe in leprechauns. That is a modern superstition, an ideology masking the lack of love, beauty, purpose, meaning - God! - in people's lives. It is a social effect of capitalism and the lives it trashes. I honestly think – logically – your profession is analogous to the witch doctor.

 

Psychiatrist: The levels of substance xyz you have has been empirically correlated with depression. That is an objective fact.

 

Me: The correlation might be a fact. That the levels cause depression as a tornado causes a house to be blown down is not a fact. You see what you have been conditioned to see. “Reality” for you has truly been socially constructed.

 

Psychiatrist: What I do is science.

 

Me: No, you use the scientific method appropriate to a material, mechanical aspect of reality to study an object – the soul – that is not mechanical at all. I am not an organic machine but an embodied soul. True, my diseases take away my energy. But not my love of life, my boys, my books, trees, God, etc. I feel blessed - as long as I can forget what capitalists are doing to my sons, what has happened to my country, Ukraine, the state of the world -  and other more minor bullshit.

 Psychiatrist: I see.

Me: When our spiritual antennas are turned towards particular embodiments of truth, goodness, beauty - God - we are healthy as souls, even when our bodies fail. That is what I believe to be true. "I feel blessed, my life is meaningful, I love and am loved, I have joy over the life of the mind, I love teaching, (etc.) - but I am 'depressed.'" That makes no sense. “Depression” is a myth I have no use for. I think "depression" is a mask for the absence of purpose, beauty, meaning, and above all love - or the hope for love. It is the (despairing) belief that one is unlovable, one's life unworthy. Depression is the absence of hope, a modern mask of despair. Am certain of that as I am of loving our boys.

I don’t doubt that the absence of these things often results from childhood traumas, the absence of love in the family. Of course, these leave measurable traces in the brain – we are not pure spirits but bodily creatures who are also spiritual. But sometimes, it is the effect of a false, materialist belief system. And that materialist belief system encloses those who are victims of adults in a cage. Drugs or "therapy" cannot replace the absence of love (God) - the only "medicine" that helps.