March, 2010

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Top Ten List – Favourite Books

Friday, March 26th, 2010

In the immortal worlds of Thomas Carlyle: ‘In books lies the soul of the whole Past Time: the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.’ So, just for fun, I’ve decided to share with you the top ten books which have influenced my life. My colleague Andrew Carr did this on his excellent political blog (www.andrewcarr.org) and I’ve decided to have a crack. It will come as no surprise to those who know me that half are from the nineteenth century. Let me know if you love or hate any of the choices and let me know what your top ten are.

N.B If Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1962) by Edward Albee were a book, it would be right up there. 

10:    The Satanic Verses (1988) – Salman Rushdie.

I will admit upfront that I initially bought this book as a form of protest. Like the controversy over Danish cartoons depicting Muhammad, I will always fall on the side of free speech and will always condemn fundamentalists (religious or otherwise) who seek to use violence and intimidation to gag the arts. That said, it is actually an incredibly clever and imaginative book in its own right. The book is densely written and can be a bit painful but it is worth the effort. It is embedded with magical realism, colourful dream sequences and visions. Ultimately it tells the lonely story of the immigrant experience mixed with the classic Othello plot of maliciously goaded jealousy.

9:    The Second Sex (1949) – Simone de Beauvoir.

This will come as no surprise to anyone who reads my blog. Beauvoir, more than anyone, captures the philosophy behind the subjugation and objectification of women. I won’t say much here because you can read my entire blog on why this book is still relevant today (http://benjaminthomasjones.com/?p=44). Her work is powerful. I recommend it to both men and women.    

8:    The Symposium (c.385BCE) – Plato.

Philosophy in general, and the Greeks in particular are a bit of a passion of mine. It was tempting to include Aristotle’s Politics or Plato’s Republic. The Symposium is my favorite because of its festive and conversationalist style. I love to image that I am in the room with these great thinkers discoursing about the nature of love and the nature of knowledge itself. I also am drawn to this work because I am a big fan of the plays of Aristophanes, so I love that he is a principle character. The speech by Socrates is exceptional. Love, he argues using the famed Socratic method, is the child of Poverty and Fortune. The highest love is the love of wisdom and through philosophy we give birth to intellectual children and achieve immortality. Breathtaking.    

7:    The New Rulers of the World (2003) – John Pilger.

This book had an enormous impact on me and is the only one on the list I read before I started university. Back then I was a bit of a conservative and working at HMV in the city. This book came highly recommended from my work colleagues and it really opened my eyes to the continual pain and suffering and discrimination faced by Aboriginal people in Australia, ‘If there were a race between democratic nations to see who could best address the violation of the human rights [of its original people], Australia would be coming stone motherless last.’ Before reading this, I had a vague notion that the treatment of Aboriginal people was once bad but now better. I think many people were like me in 2003 and this book really helped open our eyes. The Rudd apology in 2008 must owe something to the work of vigilant journalists like John Pilger.  

6:    Nineteen Eighty-four (1949) – George Orwell.

Orwell’s nightmarish vision of a state-controlled society remains as potent now as ever. The concepts of doublespeak, Big Brother and the necessity of war are so relevant in the era of terrorism. This is a book which truly scared me because looking around the world, Orwell’s words seem strangely prophetic. WAR IS PEACE, FREEDOM IS SLAVERY, IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH  

5:    The Communist Manifesto (1848) – Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels.

I think it is a testament to the greatness of this work that it not only revolutionised the readers of the nineteenth century but the twentieth also, and even now. Of course, Marxist ideas have been used in many different ways over the years and often with tragic results. Nevertheless, the Communist Manifesto has stood the test of time. As a historian I was instantly drawn to the deception of the stages of history, from the era of slavery to feudalism to bourgeois. The distinction of between the Bourgeoisie and Proletariats is as potent now as ever. It is a work I continually refer back to. I believe Marx is right when he says, ‘The history of all hitherto existing society, is the history of class struggle.’   

4:    The Gay Science (1882) – Friedrich Nietzsche.

This work was produced exactly 100 years before I was born and has had a strong influence on my thinking. It was tempting to include either Thus Spoke Zarathustra or Beyond Good and Evil, but The Gay Science was the first work of Nietzsche I ever read and it has shaped me the most. As a historian, I love Nietzsche’s critique of what he calls the cult of history. More than that, the parable of the Mad Man makes this a must-read for me. The Gay Science is the first work in which Nietzsche claims that God is dead. Unlike many anti-theistic philosophers (or scientists posed as philosophers), Nietzsche does not try and down play the enormity of this event. He embraces it and insists it be accompanied by a new epoch, ‘There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us – for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto.’ I think to this day no one has given a more accurate and honest account of the death of God and the necessary repercussions. So many anti-theists try to hold on to a morality which only makes sense in a theistic framework. Nietzsche has the courage and the academic integrity to face the consequences of a Godless universe head on and to paint a new picture of society.            

3:    The Idiot (1868) – Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Dostoevsky, more than any other writer, gets me emotional. His masterful description and articulation of human suffering makes it impossible to not to be. The cruelty of the nineteenth century European class system is a prominent theme in most of his works. The Idiot highlights the moral perversity of his society (which I think is still true in ours). It shows that even if the most perfect, gentle, honest and caring person was thrown in the midst of our society, they would be spurned and seen as an oddity. It is taken for granted that one needs become greedy, corrupt and self-centered to succeed in society. It is a powerful message and critique of where our values lie.     

2:    Freedom and Independence for the Golden Land of Australia (1852) – Dr John Dunmore Lang.

I managed to find an 1857 edition of the book on ebay, it cost me $150 and is probably the most precious thing I own. Those of you who know me will be aware that I am passionate about Australian republicanism and that is the topic of both my Honours and PhD theses. Lang’s work is a masterpiece. Long before Federation, Freedom and Independence painted a utopian vision of the United Provinces of Australia. Lang was a visionary and his work is unsurpassed in its sophistication and clear-headed thinking. This is a man all patriotic Australians should be aware of.   

1:    Crime and Punishment (1866) – Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Crime and Punishment stands alone as my favorite book. I don’t think another author has captured so magnificently the potential wickedness of the human heart and the inherent longing for grace and redemption. Dostoevsky provides a stinging critique of the Übermensch ideology which would be articulated most famously by Friedrich Nietzsche his 1883 book Thus Spoke Zarathustra. I am deeply in love with the character Sonya. Revealing how the most pure and beautiful people in life are often the ones society rejects and despises is perhaps the trait I like best about Dostoevsky. Full marks, no book has had a greater impact on me.

Honourable mention:

Rights of Man (1791) – Thomas Paine.

The History of the Peloponnesian War (c.431BCE) -Thucydides.

The Histories (c.440BCE) – Herodotus.

Globalization and Its Discontents (2002) – Joseph Stiglitz.

Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus (1818) – Mary Shelly.

Stupid White Men … and Other Sorry Excuses for the State of the Nation! (2001) – Michael Moore.

The Condition of the Working Class in England in 1844 (1845) – Friedrich Engels.

What is History? (1961) E.H. Carr.

Over to you, what did I miss? Where did I go wrong? What is your top ten?

Does Simone de Beauvoir still matter?

Saturday, March 20th, 2010

Simone de Beauvoir stands tall, even imposingly, at the centre of the Western feminist pantheon. She is generally regarded as a key figure in the Western feminist tradition and an influential forerunner to the second wave, post-1968 movement. Yet it may be reasonably asked, how useful is her existentialist approach to feminism for women today? Does her magnus opus, Le Deuxième Sexe (The Second Sex) carry the same relevance 57 years after its initial publication? The size of the topic, essentially the creation of woman, is indeed brobdingnagian. It may, therefore, be helpful to break Le Deuxième Sexe into two primary divisions; that which has been absorbed and that which has been resisted. Whilst some of Beauvoir’s ideas could be seen today as historical anachronism and others were lost in the, less than comprehensive, English translation of Howard Parshley, many of them remain just as useful and relevant today as they were in 1949.

Beauvoir’s precedent in writing Le Deuxième Sexe is the basic existential principle that existence precedes essence. This concept is introduced in the first few pages and remains a leitmotif throughout. Femininity or womanhood, she observes, is an abstract notion in society which can be embraced, rejected, thriving or in danger. She concludes, therefore, that, “every female being is not necessarily a woman; to be so considered she must share in that mysterious and threatened reality known as femininity.” As womanhood is not a natural state but a social construct it can be critiqued and reinvented. Ultimately Beauvoir suggests that through challenging these social constructs women may, “make their escape from the sphere hitherto assigned to them.”

Beauvoir’s work marked the nascent stage of feminist existentialism. This was certainly a radical heterodox to the centuries’ old Christian tradition, which asserted that women occupy a ‘natural’ subsidiary role. Beauvoir also challenged the much more contemporary psychoanalytical theory. Although Freud’s work emphasised the developmental role of the infantile state as opposed to biologically ‘natural’ states, he maintains, according to Beauvoir, a phallocentric bias. Beauvoir is particularly incensed at the notion of female castration complex. She asserts that Freud is incorrect when he, “assumes that woman feels that she is a mutilated man.” Beauvoir’s existentialist critique of the Freudian paradigm rejects that woman are sexually inferior to men and asserts they should not be restricted to an inferior societal role.

Beauvoir’s feminist existentialism is indeed a powerful intellectual force as it counters several theories which used ideology as the basis of patriarchal legitimus dominatus. It may still be questioned, however, if this approach is still useful to women today. This question is perhaps difficult to answer because the concept of gender constructs is now largely accepted by mainstream society. With the feminist movement some 6 decades advanced, many of the struggles Beauvoir mentions may not be immediately relevant in a secularist Western setting. To suggest that women are defective men, either through religion or pseudo-science, would be seen as a backwards, archaic paradigm. So in this regard, Beauvoir’s theory of gender constructs is useful to modern women more as a historical point of reference than a relevant call to arms.                    

The approach of feminist existentialism is a direct counter to the Hegelian concept of biological essentialism. Yet Beauvoir draws strongly on the Hegelian notion of the ‘Other’ to explain the discriminatory position women occupy in patriarchal society. Hegel suggests that self-transcendence can be achieved through acknowledging the ‘Other’, then contrasting and ultimately recognising it as the inessential. Beauvoir insists that, hitherto, history has suppressed female transcendence by conceptualising woman as the ‘Other’ and man as the default subject.

Society had been conditioned to understand that history, philosophy, politics, even actions and ideas, are occupied in the male sphere; “a man never begins by presenting himself as an individual of a certain sex.” It is, by contrast, an anomaly of sorts, when a woman makes a contribution to these fields. Beauvoir describes the frustrating position women find themselves in when expressing ideas. A man, she notes, may criticise feminine discourse by claiming, “you think thus and so because you are a woman.” If a woman retorts, however, “you think the contrary because you are a man,” it is by no means an insult. Beauvoir suggests the woman’s only defense is to claim, “I think thus and so because it is true,” as this method negates the concept of the male ‘One’ and the female ‘Other’.

The institutionalisation of female ‘Otherness’ is a source of immense frustration for Beauvoir. One of the primary benefits of this system is that the ‘One’, no matter how lowly and humble, can always take pride as the inherent superior of the ‘Other’. Beauvoir notes that, “the most mediocre of males feels himself a demigod as compared with woman.” This is not to suggest that all men are indifferent to the plight of women, however, “the most sympathetic of men never fully comprehend woman’s concrete situation.” The ‘One’ can never truly appreciate the experience of the ‘Other’.           

Beauvoir notes that, “no group ever sets itself up as the ‘One’ without at once setting up the ‘Other’ over against it.” In this regard, women are in the same objectified condition as racial minorities such as Jews and Blacks. The critical difference is that women are not a minority. In many ways this makes the task of rejecting the ‘Other’ label all the more labourious. Whilst racial and economic groups can draw upon a common history or religion as a means of assuming a subjective constitution, women have been conditioned to identify themselves through the male sphere and thus, “lack the concrete means for organising themselves into a unit which can stand face to face with the correlative unit.”

Again one wonders, in the wake of both waves of feminism, how potent is Beauvoir’s message today? Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner posed the question in 2004, are we living in post-feminist times? Proponents of the post-feminist theory cite glowing statistics about girls surpassing boys academically and making continual inroads with regards to politics and business. Yet the language of these reports suggest that the philosophical stigma of ‘Otherness’ still hangs tenaciously over women.

Why, it may be asked, is it a particularly newsworthy item when girls beat boys in the Higher School Certificate or any other test? Why is it an outstanding achievement for a woman to achieve the post of Prime Minister, Premier or CEO, but simply an accepted given when a man occupies these posts? Why does the Australian Labor Party, albeit with good intentions, need to institute a quota system to assure a certain number of female members of parliament?  Beauvoir’s assessment of women as the ‘Other’ appears still to be largely accurate in contemporary culture. It would seem a priori that this dominant theme in Le Deuxième Sexe is still a useful concept for women today to engage with.

Despite the many advances women have made in education and employment there can be little doubt that they still struggle to find equality with males. Despite the increased employment of women most never rise above lower management. A comprehensive study of the gendered wage gap in Australia by the University of Canberra estimated an almost 8 percent difference in the male’s favour. Rowe-Finkbeiner notes that the glass ceiling still exists, it is not broken but merely cracked. Beauvoir describes this as a caste system within the economic sphere. Men, she claims, “hold the better jobs, get higher wages, and have more opportunity for success than their new competitors.” Beauvoir’s message, in this case, is certainly still relevant for women today as it is a call to action.

Some of Beauvoir’s more subtle examples of the objectification of woman also seem to have retained relevance. She notes that the very clothing designated as feminine is designed to cut the body off from activity. She explains this as a patriarchal attempt to institutionalise the gender binary. Whilst men monopolise the realm of action, ornamental attire is used to, “accomplish the metamorphosis of woman into idol.” For Beauvoir, this pattern continues in history from Chinese foot binding to Hollywood beautification; “paralysed by inconvenient clothing and by the rules of propriety – then woman’s body seems to man his property, his thing.”

This criticism, if it is believed, is as relevant now as it was in 1949. Many of the costumes and styles of today’s women restrict action also. Long nails and high heels, for example, augment immobility in much the same way as they did when Beauvoir was writing. Suggesting what should be done, however, is an altogether murky and contentious task. Beauvoir is critical of any fashion which affirms woman as the ‘Other’ thus restricting her freedom. Beauvoir’s critics, however, such as Mary Evans, Antoinette Fouque and Luce Irigaray, argue that her concept of freedom is essentially male and that she is not positive enough in her representation of woman.

This criticism suggests a possible weakness in the feminist existentialist approach; it negates the notion of a female essence. For many critics of Beauvoir, and critics of feminism in general, femininity and especially motherhood are beautiful, but importantly, inherent states. As such they tend to embrace the costumes and styles Beauvoir questions. Women, of course, have the freedom to dress however they please. Nevertheless, it is probably still useful for women today to consider Beauvoir’s theory concerning traditional female attire when choosing how to execute that freedom.

Being aware of Beauvoir’s theory can be seen as an enabler of freedom for women. Even if they reject her ideas, the very choice of rejection means they are in a position of action not passivity. The difference, Beauvoir would argue, is not outward but inner. If a woman chooses to dress a certain way, then she is executing freedom. If, however, she feels compelled to dress that way, she is acquiescing to man-made societal constraints and accepting her state of immanence.    

The traditional gender binary not only divides men and women as active and passive but as rational and emotional as well. Again, in a modern, secular environment, it is unlikely anyone would state that women are chained to their emotions and yet it is possibly inferred in other ways. Margaret Simons notes that, “most philosophers, feminist and non-feminist alike, see Simone de Beauvoir’s philosophical perspective as defined by that of her lifelong friend, Jean-Paul Sartre.” John Dalton questions this immediate connection. Why does, “the work of men stand apart from their biography, but not the work of women, which would mean that their work is not self-sufficient?” This could, perhaps, be further evidence of the ‘Otherness’ with which woman is still perceived. Whilst it is natural for men to create philosophical works, when a woman does so it is seen as a peculiarity and, as with all peculiarities, personal details about the creator are sought.

Beauvoir draws on examples from history to support her view that the ‘Other’ is a category men have always inflicted upon women, trapping them in immanence. She writes that, “in the past all history has been made by men.” This point, however, could be considered weak, even dated. Much like the feminist movement, history has also advanced and diversified greatly since 1949. Traditional adherents to the ‘hero in history’ paradigm not only tended to exclude women but also the vast majority of men. This approach focused primarily on kings and other leaders.

Since the time of Le Deuxième Sexe many prominent historians have turned their attention to the untold histories of ordinary men and women. Bruce Scates, for example, has led fascinating new research into the experience and contribution of Australian women during the First World War and explored the concept of emotional labour in The Unknown Sock Knitter. Melanie Oppenheimer and Mark Lyons have also been influential in researching the contribution of the, hitherto, largely ignored third sector. Many other examples could be cited but suffice to say, history is not stagnant and it is anachronistic to try and fossilise it in one particular period of time. That is not to say that Beauvoir’s theory of the historical objectification of women is false, only that it has a shaky foundation and is unprovable in any definitive sense.

When Le Deuxième Sexe was released it drew a plethora of responses. The source of anger and outrage for some, it breathed hope and inspiration into others. There are at least three distinct areas in which the book is useful and relevant to women today. Firstly, it marks the nascent stage of a new epoch. Even women who do not necessarily adhere to Beauvoir’s ideas, such as influential feminist philosopher Alison Jaggar, still acknowledge the historical significance of her 1949 work. Le Deuxième Sexe was a spark which helped ignite the feminist movement throughout the seventies and eighties. As such the work is useful as a point of reference in chronicling the history of feminism. 

Secondly, Beauvoir’s approach of feminist existentialism is still useful to women today as it provides an ideological framework to challenge the notion of biological essentialism. As has already been explained, however, this is a two-edged sword. Women may want to conceptualise themselves as having inherent feminine qualities. Nevertheless, Beauvoir is still useful for providing an alternate theory which can then be rejected or accepted. Finally, Beauvoir’s concept of the female ‘Other’ is still relevant and, indeed, very useful to women today. Beauvoir challenges women not to settle for partial access to the male sphere but to expand the frontiers of the female sphere until woman’s dignity is elevated and she is seen as man’s fellow creature.

Determining usefulness over several decades is by no means an exact science and the task is made all the more complicated by the societal trend of evolving values, protocols and norms. Whilst Beauvoir may have seemed radical to her audience in the fifties, by the mid-sixties she seemed to some, rather passé, even irrelevant. Women today, historically alienated from the struggles women faced when Beauvoir was writing, would perhaps take for granted the increased freedoms and opportunities she advocated. Nevertheless, Beauvoir’s ideas are still useful as they marked the nidus of a new epoch in the conceptualisation of woman and suggest the direction the feminist movement ought to go.

Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre

On Stand-Up Comedians

Thursday, March 4th, 2010

In his book Maestro, the Australian author, Peter Goldsworthy makes the statement, ‘if you want people to believe your lies, set them to music.’ To this I will add an epigram of my own; if you want people to believe nothing, show them a stand-up comedian. It is reasonably well known that politics permeates through most stand-up comedy and that it is often of a left-wing bent. It seems today increasingly the case that a distinct philosophical position is being tacitly promoted. It was the lecturer of Christian Apologetics at Oxford University, Stuart McAllister, who described John Stewart’s Daily Show as ‘comedic nihilism’. This is a phrase with no small poignancy when considering stand-up comedians. 

Stand-up comedy is, of course, not meant to be taken too seriously. Nevertheless, the arts are a mirror to society’s soul. It was the American poet Archibald Macleish who commented in the 1960s, ‘there is, in truth, a terror in the world and the arts have heard it as they always do.’ What he was saying is that the arts watch, listen and then expose the changing face of our culture. They reveal the glory and the terror of humanity. It is the arts in their myriad forms which, like the portrait of Dorian Gray, present to us our own face. On 1 March 2010, Minister for the Arts (his forgotten portfolio) Peter Garrett opined on Q&A that, ‘art reflects the totality of human expression.’ Stand-up comedy does present a light-hearted face and we are free, of course, to leave it at that. Nevertheless, as with all the arts, beneath the surface aesthetic lies a story and a philosophy. Beyond the pleasure we enjoy from the beauty of the painting, the melody of the song or the humour of the comedian, the arts tell the story of who we are and what we have become. Perhaps even more so than painting, sculpture, theatre or music, stand-up comedy is an overt conductor of politics and philosophy.

Recently I was watching Dylan Moran’s What It Is tour and between the frequent laughs, the term ‘comedic nihilism’ kept returning to me. Moran, as with most stand-up comedians I’ve ever seen, openly ridicules religion in general and Christianity in particular as ignorant, backward and laughable in a post-modern context. His ridicule and scorn are certainly not exceptional by comedic standards, rather they are normative, bordering on mundane. He says this:

‘I don’t mind most religious people. I talk to them. You know I listen to them banging on. I prayed very hard and then the fairy came. Did he? Good. Have a biscuit. I only get annoyed when they try and make me see the fairy. You have to let the fairy into your heart. Look I wouldn’t let him into my garden. I’d shoot him on sight, if he existed, which he doesn’t.’

This kind of intellectual posturing via comedy is not new of course. Compared to more vociferous anti-theistic stand-ups such as George Carlin, Denis Leary or Ricky Gervais it is actually quite tame. What struck me about Moran was how seamlessly he moved on and began ridiculing evolutionary science and the Big Bang theory. He says:

‘Science is a joke. Look at the scientific explanation for the origin of life as we know it. It has a major flaw. I mean, it’s no wonder we have creationists. You know those people, God love them, who tell their children originally we all went to school with dinosaurs. Or whatever it is they tell them. But no wonder they exist because listen to the explanation for the origin of life itself. It doesn’t sound very scientific. There was a big bang. And then we all came from monkeys. What? That’s it? Yeah, shop’s closed.’

Moran is part of a wider cohort of stand-up comedians who race among themselves to be the first to mockingly dismiss everything that anybody might hold sacred. They will mock first the stubborn conservatism of the political right then the idealism and impotence of the left. Those who support the various wars are called ignorant and gullible while those who protest them are dismissed as idealistic. The belief in God is called backwards while the belief in life without God is called childish. There is no golden calf the stand-up comedian will balk from smiting. Jokes about the Nazi holocaust, the 9/11 terrorist attacks, children with cancer are all commonplace. In their dogged clamber to reach the cutting edge of comedy nothing is left untouched. The pious and the perverted, the hippy and the CEO, the theist and the anti-theist are all ridiculed together. They are all alike in their helplessness under the stand-up comedian’s metaphysical blade.  

I’m reminded of the words of the great English philosopher G.K Chesterton who commented on people who rebel against everything. He says this in his book Orthodoxy published in 1909:

‘But the new rebel is a skeptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist. And the fact that he doubts everything really gets in his way when he wants to denounce anything. For all denunciation implies a moral doctrine of some kind; and the modern revolutionist doubts not only the institution he denounces, but the doctrine by which he denounces it. Thus he writes one book complaining that imperial oppression insults the purity of women, and then he writes another book in which he insults it himself. He curses the Sultan because Christian girls lose their virginity, and then curses Mrs. Grundy because they keep it. As a politician, he will cry out that war is a waste of life, and then, as a philosopher, that all life is waste of time. A Russian pessimist will denounce a policeman for killing a peasant, and then prove by the highest philosophical principles that the peasant ought to have killed himself. A man denounces marriage as a lie, and then denounces aristocratic profligates for treating it as a lie. He calls a flag a bauble, and then blames the oppressors of Poland or Ireland because they take away that bauble. The man of this school goes first to a political meeting, where he complains that savages are treated as if they were beasts; then he takes his hat and umbrella and goes on to a scientific meeting, where he proves that they practically are beasts. In short, the modern revolutionist, being an infinite skeptic, is always engaged in undermining his own mines. In his book on politics he attacks men for trampling on morality; in his book on ethics he attacks morality for trampling on men. Therefore the modern man in revolt has become practically useless for all purposes of revolt. By rebelling against everything he has lost his right to rebel against anything.’

Nihilism is a disease which robs our ability to truly engage with our human existence. There is no religion, ideology, political party or profession which cannot be critically evaluated and ultimately scorned as fallible and imperfect. Yet the human condition craves the idea of purpose. It is only when we place faith in something that we touch those things which give life meaning. The millions of people who dedicate their lives to charity are only able to do so because they believe there is meaning and value in their actions. The great political and military leaders of history were able to change the world because they ignored the ridicule of critics and believed in a higher calling. The level of sacrifice a person is willing to make in life will be directly proportional to the level of faith they have that there is a purpose to their actions.      

Comedic nihilism is something akin to a down-trodden, long-term opposition party. It is quick to insult the people of action but slow to suggest an alternative. And whilst there may be a small injection of esteem when you mock someone’s purpose in life, it is more than offset by the emptiness of a life with no meaning. We do, of course, need to be sceptical to a degree, but if it translates into cynicism we are on the path to a rather miserable existence. It is better always to stand for something, to believe in something and to love something, than to lurk in the gutters trying to pull others down to your level, mocking everything sacred with equal venom. Stand-up comedy is good for a laugh, but don’t take it too seriously.