Desire and Fate

To dismiss Woke as mere hucksterism is too easy. Are there Woke hucksters? Of course: the names of the usual suspects come to mind virtually unbidden. But outrage over Woke, and frustration over its success, is a poor guide to understanding it. Every movement has its hucksters, and I am anything but persuaded that Woke has more than others. Far more interesting are Woke’s own delusions. For the Woke sincerely and passionately believe themselves to be redeeming culture, the humanities, and, increasingly the STEM fields as well, both ethically and intellectually. What this blinds them to is that in reality they are the humanities’ death rattle. This is not because, as many of Woke’s critics are pleased to imagine, that Woke are the humanities’ executioners. Rather, it is because in a world where the universities have either become or are becoming trade schools, and where the past is considered only of interest insofar as it is relevant to the present, Woke plays an extremely important role, though in fairness, largely an unwitting one, in providing the ethical grease to ease this transition.

It is the idealization of relevance that is behind victory of the idea that the most important thing art and culture can do is equitably represent communities, rather than inspire something that transcends both communities and individuals. In practical terms, within the subsidized world of the academic-philanthropic-cultural complex this explains why relevance is more and more prized over excellence on moral and ethical grounds. A representative statement of this view came from the Arts Council England’s deputy chief executive for arts and culture, Simon Mellor, who stated categorically that, “Relevance not excellence will be the new litmus test for funding.” It its a view seconded by the Arts Council director of music, Claire Mera-Nelson, who insisted that, “It is sometimes more important to think about audience opportunity than it is to always prioritize the quality of the platform.”*

The problem here is not that what has mass appeal is always junk whereas what appeals only to the few is always good. To say this would mere snobbery, and too much of the critique of Woke is just that: snobbery. But what is true is that understanding certain kinds of art, just like engaging with certain forms of spiritual practice - Zen meditation is an obvious example here - and, of course, attaining athletic excellence, are very difficult things to do, and take a great deal of time, effort, and commitment. There is an old Buddhist joke about the student who goes to the Roshi and says, “Master, how long until I find enlightenment?” The master thinks, and then replies, “Ten years.” Aghast, the pupils cries out, “Ten years??” To which the Roshi answers, “Twenty years.”

In an important sense, the tragedy of Woke for this dying civilization is that it offers commercial culture the moral legitimation of its own mediocrity. Self-evidently, audiences with no experience of or grounding in Baroque opera, or the Bunraku, or the classical Sanskrit playwrights are going to have great difficulty appreciating it, whereas pop music, or poetry jams are completely accessible immediately. The problem is that these popular forms need no subsidy, whereas higher and culture do, just as they always have, whether in Tang China or Medici Florence, if they are to survive at all. But commercial culture sees no sense in keeping them alive and now, with Woke, it can justify its indifference in the name of diversity, equity, and inclusion.

The problem for the Woke, at least within the Academe, but probably within the broader culture as well, is that by enforcing their Pride’s Purge of Western culture, they are in effect signing their own death warrant as well. All one has to do to understand this is to look at the decline of the study of the arts and humanities in US, Canadian, and British universities. Not only are departments in many universities shutting down, but most of those that are (at least for now) surviving - including in elite universities - are doing so only by ruthlessly exploiting junior staff , most of whom now resemble itinerant 16th century artisans living hand to mouth with no guild to protect them. That, of course, is why so many young untenured teachers and teaching assistants are trying to escape the role universities impose on them as a kind of lumpen professoriate and are trying to unionize.

One can only wish them luck. But at least in the arts and the humanities, it is by now a foregone conclusion that within a decade, the struggle in humanities departments will not be to remake them under the sign of Woke but for their very survival. The Woke though have their eyes fixed on a radiant future. They think commercial culture is their friend, when in fact it is their executioner. In their confusion, they are like the frog in the old joke about the frog and the scorpion. A frog and a scorpion meet at a stream and the scorpion asks the frog to carry him across. At first the frog refuses. “You’ll sting me and I’ll die,” he says. But the scorpion reassures him, saying, “But I won’t sting you. How could I? If I did, we would both drown.” Reassured, the frog agrees. The scorpion climbs up onto his back, and they set off across the stream. Halfway across, the scorpion does sting the frog. And as they are both drowning, the frog cries out,”But why?” To which the scorpion replies, “I’m a scorpion.’

Probably sooner rather than later, the Woke will discover that they are that frog and commercial culture is that scorpion - except that it is a scorpion that in fact knows perfectly well how to swim.

*https://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk/arts-and-books/the-arts-council-is-harming-the-cultural-organisations-it-should-help