Postmodernism isn’t even a subject, really; more of a theme. That’s a nitpick, though; any of the fields usually cited as postmodernist (critical theory’s the first one to come to mind) would have worked in that context.
But to answer your question, what I’ve read of folks like Derrida is frustrating and unproductive, but most of the parts that seem to function as basilisks to the uninoculated parse as not even wrong. On that other hand, that might not reflect everyone’s experience; there are a lot of branches of cultural criticism inheriting from postmodern philosophy, and it’s quite likely that some of them will end up being flattering to our higher-level instrumental values. That could lead to a couple of different failure modes, which I probably don’t need to belabor.
To answer your question, though, what I’ve read of folks like Derrida is frustrating and unproductive, but most of the parts that seem to function as basilisks to the uninoculated parse as not even wrong.
That certainly agrees with my intuition. In fairness, I’ve also had the experience of (1) reading something in a postmodern text that looks obviously wrong or not even wrong, (2) reading some more texts that gave me a better idea of how postmodernists use their words, and then (3) revisiting the original text and seeing that it actually had something worthwhile to say. Nonetheless, I’m far from convinced that reading postmodern texts is the most cost-effective way to get these insights.
On that other hand, that might not reflect everyone’s experience; there are a lot of branches of cultural criticism inheriting from postmodern philosophy, and it’s quite likely that some of them will end up being flattering to our higher-level instrumental values. That could lead to a couple of different failure modes, which I probably don’t need to belabor.
I’m not sure that I understand. Are you saying that we might give too much respect to postmodernists because they use postmodern reasoning to support ends that we also support?
If so, I actually think that that is a reason to study postmodernism more closely.
Suppose that you had almost no familiarity with postmodernism, but you were good at epistemic rationality. Then you hear someone utter some postmodern jargon, followed by, “And that is why religious dogma is not a secure foundation for morality.” You might think to yourself, “I couldn’t quite parse all that jargon, but the conclusion was right, so maybe these postmodernists are on to something.” On the basis of this second-hand exposure, you go and read some postmodernist texts, working slowly and carefully, trying to understand this potentially-useful method. Instead, you find that you still can’t parse the jargon. If postmodernism is really that bad, first-hand exposure will leave you with less respect than you had after second-hand exposure. Its incomprehensibility will be a greater strike against it.
Are you saying that we might give too much respect to postmodernists because they use postmodern reasoning to support ends that we also support?
More or less, although I’d cast it in terms of giving too much respect to incoherent arguments rather than to postmodernism. It’s an arguments-as-soldiers thing; if we find ourselves nodding along with an argument that leads to a conclusion we like, and the internals of the argument are later shown to have been nonsense, we look at minimum very silly. Worse, we might along the way have internalized some related nonsense.
On the other hand, we should also be careful not to demonize particular postmodern thinkers or conclusions on account of coming out of the postmodern movement, for the same reasons—a test that many on the empirical side of the Two Cultures divide have failed, unfortunately. Themes and methods characteristic of the movement are, of course, still fair game.
Your secondary-exposure method seems solid in principle, but I’d also say that that’s a good time to revisit the concerns about cost-effectiveness that you raised earlier; it’s a heavyweight method, and I doubt that the certainty it gives you is likely to be worth the time spent on gaining it. Even a prerequisite as basic as learning the vocabulary of, say, deconstructionism is a daunting task, at least comparable in complexity to reading the Sequences.
there are a lot of branches of cultural criticism inheriting from postmodern philosophy, and it’s quite likely that some of them will end up being flattering to our higher-level instrumental values.
This is how I got into it. I had just started getting seriously into thinking about popular music (and unpopular popular music) and the horrifying quantities of bullshit surrounding it, and found Mythologies by Roland Barthes at the local second-hand bookshop, and went “HOLY CRAP THIS NAILS IT.” Bits were opaque and bits were stupid, but enough made what I’d already been thinking make more sense that I got quite a lot out of it. (It’s generally regarded as a classic, and IMO it’s a great book, and Barthes is really pretty easy to read as critical theorists go, but I have no idea if this is a good introduction to anything whatsoever, so am not recommending it to anyone as such. But it was the right book for the right person at the right time.) Possibly the main failure mode was helping encourage me to think listening to records was much more important than it actually was.
(Oh, and Paul Morley in NME. Yes, thatPaul Morley.)
tl;dr: It’s better if you’ve got an actual use for it. In this regard, it’s like the broader field of philosophy.
I read Barthes a couple of decades ago and I remember liking him, though at the moment the only thing I vaguely remember is an analysis of the strip tease. I’ve carried with me one of his insights ever since—the notion that the act of stripping is highly erotic but full nakedness markedly less so.
Postmodernism isn’t even a subject, really; more of a theme. That’s a nitpick, though; any of the fields usually cited as postmodernist (critical theory’s the first one to come to mind) would have worked in that context.
But to answer your question, what I’ve read of folks like Derrida is frustrating and unproductive, but most of the parts that seem to function as basilisks to the uninoculated parse as not even wrong. On that other hand, that might not reflect everyone’s experience; there are a lot of branches of cultural criticism inheriting from postmodern philosophy, and it’s quite likely that some of them will end up being flattering to our higher-level instrumental values. That could lead to a couple of different failure modes, which I probably don’t need to belabor.
That certainly agrees with my intuition. In fairness, I’ve also had the experience of (1) reading something in a postmodern text that looks obviously wrong or not even wrong, (2) reading some more texts that gave me a better idea of how postmodernists use their words, and then (3) revisiting the original text and seeing that it actually had something worthwhile to say. Nonetheless, I’m far from convinced that reading postmodern texts is the most cost-effective way to get these insights.
I’m not sure that I understand. Are you saying that we might give too much respect to postmodernists because they use postmodern reasoning to support ends that we also support?
If so, I actually think that that is a reason to study postmodernism more closely.
Suppose that you had almost no familiarity with postmodernism, but you were good at epistemic rationality. Then you hear someone utter some postmodern jargon, followed by, “And that is why religious dogma is not a secure foundation for morality.” You might think to yourself, “I couldn’t quite parse all that jargon, but the conclusion was right, so maybe these postmodernists are on to something.” On the basis of this second-hand exposure, you go and read some postmodernist texts, working slowly and carefully, trying to understand this potentially-useful method. Instead, you find that you still can’t parse the jargon. If postmodernism is really that bad, first-hand exposure will leave you with less respect than you had after second-hand exposure. Its incomprehensibility will be a greater strike against it.
More or less, although I’d cast it in terms of giving too much respect to incoherent arguments rather than to postmodernism. It’s an arguments-as-soldiers thing; if we find ourselves nodding along with an argument that leads to a conclusion we like, and the internals of the argument are later shown to have been nonsense, we look at minimum very silly. Worse, we might along the way have internalized some related nonsense.
On the other hand, we should also be careful not to demonize particular postmodern thinkers or conclusions on account of coming out of the postmodern movement, for the same reasons—a test that many on the empirical side of the Two Cultures divide have failed, unfortunately. Themes and methods characteristic of the movement are, of course, still fair game.
Your secondary-exposure method seems solid in principle, but I’d also say that that’s a good time to revisit the concerns about cost-effectiveness that you raised earlier; it’s a heavyweight method, and I doubt that the certainty it gives you is likely to be worth the time spent on gaining it. Even a prerequisite as basic as learning the vocabulary of, say, deconstructionism is a daunting task, at least comparable in complexity to reading the Sequences.
This is how I got into it. I had just started getting seriously into thinking about popular music (and unpopular popular music) and the horrifying quantities of bullshit surrounding it, and found Mythologies by Roland Barthes at the local second-hand bookshop, and went “HOLY CRAP THIS NAILS IT.” Bits were opaque and bits were stupid, but enough made what I’d already been thinking make more sense that I got quite a lot out of it. (It’s generally regarded as a classic, and IMO it’s a great book, and Barthes is really pretty easy to read as critical theorists go, but I have no idea if this is a good introduction to anything whatsoever, so am not recommending it to anyone as such. But it was the right book for the right person at the right time.) Possibly the main failure mode was helping encourage me to think listening to records was much more important than it actually was.
(Oh, and Paul Morley in NME. Yes, that Paul Morley.)
tl;dr: It’s better if you’ve got an actual use for it. In this regard, it’s like the broader field of philosophy.
I read Barthes a couple of decades ago and I remember liking him, though at the moment the only thing I vaguely remember is an analysis of the strip tease. I’ve carried with me one of his insights ever since—the notion that the act of stripping is highly erotic but full nakedness markedly less so.