Jan Bentz, “Rituals Stabilize Life:” Without Them, Man is Lost in a Sea of Sameness
In his short book The Disappearance of Rituals, the Korean-German philosopher and cultural critic, Byun-Chul Han, offers a genealogy of the disappearance of rituals. He does not “interpret [the disappearance] as an emancipatory process,” but rather as a decline of culture and society. In ten chapters he offers a profound analysis of the significance and importance of rituals, not just for the West, but for human nature. Written within the framework of a neoliberal critique, he attacks “production as compulsion,” in other words, the predominant worldview that all dimensions of human life are (or should be) subject to work and production. In his customary declarative style, he makes sweeping criticisms and invites the reader to rethink the topic from a fresh angle.
Han defines rituals as “symbolic techniques of making oneself at home in the world.” They transform “being-in-the-world into a being-at-home,” borrowing terms from the German philosopher Martin Heidegger. Rituals are also “symbolic practices, practices of symbállein, in the sense that they bring people together and create an alliance, a wholeness, a community.”
A plethora of affairs in human existence has been void of ritual, including one’s relation to the world, to time, to community, to the political realm, interpersonal etiquette, and even war and pornography. In all these dimensions, the absence of ritual bespeaks a merely “horizontal” existence that lacks depth, meditation, reflection, and existential force, all so essential for a meaningful human life.
In reference to time, Han says it “lacks a solid structure, it is not a house but an erratic stream. It disintegrates into a mere sequence of point-like presences; it rushes off.” Whereas ritualized time, by contrast,—in the context of religion or community—“stabilizes life.”
Han finds all spheres of life have become commodified, turning them into things to be consumed. Not only are things consumed, so are emotions. “You cannot consume things endlessly, but emotions you can,” he says. “Values today also serve as things for individual consumption.” They become commodities and are exploited for profit in a neoliberal context. “Neoliberalism often makes use of morality for its own sake,” thereby turning good intentions and convictions, however honorable or misguided they may be, into “marks of moral distinction.” A sustainable lifestyle, “vegan shoes,” and more all serve to increase “narcissistic self-respect.”
Opposed to the self-referential and narcissistic social media generation, Han sees rituals as “narrative processes” that decelerate the drive for consumption and offer moments of silence. In a society “governed by ritual, there is no depression. In such a society, the soul is fully absorbed by ritual forms; it is even emptied out.” Han laments that society has lost all feeling for true theatricality, but has instead traded the theatre for a “market, in which one exposes and exhibits oneself. Theatrical presentation gives way to a pornographic exhibition of the private.”
Rituals are also moments of closure, Han feels. Echoing Roger Scruton’s meditation on mourning, Han argues that today’s society is “characterized by an excess of openings and dissolving boundaries” and “losing the capacity for closure,” while life becomes a “purely additive process.” Everything has to take on a provisional nature so as to be better consumed. “Culture,” on the other hand, according to Han, is “a form of closure, and so founds an identity. However, culture is not an excluding but an including identity. It is therefore receptive of what is foreign.” Thus rituals “give form to the essential transitions of life…in the same way seasons do. They are forms of closure. Without them, we slip through.”
This appeal for structure and order—reminiscent of one of Jordan Peterson’s main themes—is embodied, for example, in Christianity: “The religion of Christianity is to a large extent narrative. Festivals such as Easter, Whitsun [Pentecost] and Christmas are key narratives, which provide meaning and orientation.”
Ritual, furthermore, is representative of a game of sorts, which modern society has forgotten how to play. War, an example upon which Han elaborates at length, used to have a game character and there had always been a sense of ‘fair play.’ By contrast, modern warfare “lacks the character of play.” “The compulsion of production destroys play. Modern wars are battles of production.” Han finds the idea of a “drone war” exemplifies the worst kind of war, lacking any honor, where death is the result of a mouse click. War as “ritual combat” was always characterized by “reciprocity,” but today it is “made to fit the forms of production.” He concludes: “The form of war that produces death is diametrically opposed to war as ritual combat.”
While some of Han’s ideas are not new, neither in the larger context of philosophy, nor even in the body of his own work, he makes an authentic case that the lack of ritual has philosophical, psychological, and cultural repercussions. Ideas such as the profusion of transparency, positivity, being overworked, psychopolitics, pornographizisation, etc. have already appeared in his other works.
Han’s criticism is welcome, pertinent, and current, but The Disappearance of Rituals suffers from a tangible absence of resolution. A short preface in which Han explicitly testifies that his work is not characterized by a desire to return to ritual also seems very disconcerting. Just a few sentences into the preface, he seems to undermine the entire force of his argument from the outset. Perhaps because of his Hegelian education, he is willing to present himself as the antithesis of society’s ailments, but shirks a productive synthesis, leaving the latter to fate, i.e. the violent sublation of the spirit in history. Considering Han’s background and his study of Catholic theology, the reader wonders why he does not draw further from this profound heritage and tradition for a productive and optimistic path forward. A return to ritual is easy; nay, it is already present in so many sectors of society: self-help groups, ‘life coaches,’ but also more serious venues such as debate societies and, most obviously, religion. The craving for said rituals may explain why so many are drawn to more ritualized forms of worship, such as the traditional Latin Mass. But regarding such phenomena, Han remains silent.
A conservative reader will agree with many—even all—of Han’s critiques. But they will also feel the absence of a constructive solution.
9 comments:
\\Han’s criticism is welcome, pertinent, and current, but The Disappearance of Rituals suffers from a tangible absence of resolution.
That's it.
lol! Philosophers are supposed to ask questions, not answer them.
Plato, "Theaetetus"
SOCRATES: Well, my art of midwifery is in most respects like theirs; but differs, in that I attend men and not women; and look after their souls when they are in labour, and not after their bodies: and the triumph of my art is in thoroughly examining whether the thought which the mind of the young man brings forth is a false idol or a noble and true birth. And like the midwives, I am barren, and the reproach which is often made against me, that I ask questions of others and have not the wit to answer them myself, is very just—the reason is, that the god compels me to be a midwife, but does not allow me to bring forth. And therefore I am not myself at all wise, nor have I anything to show which is the invention or birth of my own soul, but those who converse with me profit. Some of them appear dull enough at first, but afterwards, as our acquaintance ripens, if the god is gracious to them, they all make astonishing progress; and this in the opinion of others as well as in their own. It is quite clear that they never learned anything from me; the many fine discoveries to which they cling are of their own making. But to me and the god they owe their delivery. And the proof of my words is, that many of them in their ignorance, either in their self-conceit despising me, or falling under the influence of others, have gone away too soon; and have not only lost the children of whom I had previously delivered them by an ill bringing up, but have stifled whatever else they had in them by evil communications, being fonder of lies and shams than of the truth; and they have at last ended by seeing themselves, as others see them, to be great fools. Aristeides, the son of Lysimachus, is one of them, and there are many others. The truants often return to me, and beg that I would consort with them again—they are ready to go to me on their knees—and then, if my familiar allows, which is not always the case, I receive them, and they begin to grow again. Dire are the pangs which my art is able to arouse and to allay in those who consort with me, just like the pangs of women in childbirth; night and day they are full of perplexity and travail which is even worse than that of the women. So much for them. And there are others, Theaetetus, who come to me apparently having nothing in them; and as I know that they have no need of my art, I coax them into marrying some one, and by the grace of God I can generally tell who is likely to do them good. Many of them I have given away to Prodicus, and many to other inspired sages. I tell you this long story, friend Theaetetus, because I suspect, as indeed you seem to think yourself, that you are in labour—great with some conception. Come then to me, who am a midwife's son and myself a midwife, and do your best to answer the questions which I will ask you. And if I abstract and expose your first-born, because I discover upon inspection that the conception which you have formed is a vain shadow, do not quarrel with me on that account, as the manner of women is when their first children are taken from them. For I have actually known some who were ready to bite me when I deprived them of a darling folly; they did not perceive that I acted from goodwill, not knowing that no god is the enemy of man—that was not within the range of their ideas; neither am I their enemy in all this, but it would be wrong for me to admit falsehood, or to stifle the truth. Once more, then, Theaetetus, I repeat my old question, 'What is knowledge?'—and do not say that you cannot tell; but quit yourself like a man, and by the help of God you will be able to tell.
\\lol! Philosophers are supposed to ask questions, not answer them.
Kantor defined that number of dumb questions, worthless to be answered, worthless to be asked even is... you know. ;-)
Well, I already stated it, isn't it, that he is miserly sophist, not phylosopher. ;-P
But was you corageus enough to stand up and protect... his honor? ;-)
+
Fruits of wisdom is bitter... and you ned to chew em for long (far too long) for em to start feel sweet. ;-)
Like Lindy's cheesecake, it probably starts to ferment after too long a period of time...
No... that what ferments by itself... just an ordinary shit. ;-) (and very occasionally... "noble" types of cheese)
Stinky cheese... ;)
That where the evolution of the septal nuclei come in. From "something smells rotten/ disgusting in Denmark" to the "discriminating pallet of a wine/ cheese connoisseur" that prefers a '23 bordeaux to a '20 pinot noir.
:P
...disgusting!
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