Ophiolite said:
Very difficult to discuss as I see no logical argument that leads to the statement. Can you suggest some reasons why it might be true?
Generally speaking, the form of our neighbor's question is a quiet version of now-more-than-everism. Normally, we use this phrase for basic policy prescriptions, like tax cuts. If the economy is good, tax cuts. If the economy is bad, tax cuts. If the terrorists attack, tax cuts. And whatever is going on means we need to do this
now more than ever.
For comparative context, I might reach back to the eighties, in the States. You know, in the twenty-first century, Mark Steel did a joke about the British dashing off letters to the editor; it's the same underlying trope as the line in Harry Potter about accepting his owl should he wish to register his opinion, or also the bit in Gaiman and Pratchett (
Good Omens) that spends a small handful of words chortling to its narrative self about the letters page.
In the eighties, reader correspondence to newspapers was a strange thing in the States; in my corner, the letters ranged from short paragraphs reiterating basic political outlooks as if those slogans actually meant anything to extended disputes over the proper way to tie a necktie.
In other words, a local iteration of a pretty universal phenomenon.
The advice columns were, in retrospect, childishly simple, presenting everything from salad forks to infidelity as if people were actors on a stage reciting scripts; just say and do this general something and everything else will work out. "Teen" advice columns were even worse; pretty much every one of them had a version of the "Curveball" letter, from the seventeen year old whose penis became erect in the school locker room and curved to the left. I remember an extended discussion of pinching the glans in order to curb an erection at school. Oh, Goddess grant, these are humiliatingly awful memories of my society.
But amid it all were a trio of what we might dismiss these days as "grumpy old man" notions orbiting the problem with the kids today, the thin edge of the wedge, and the decay of American social fabric: Secular Humanism, Moral Relativism, and coddling ("Citizenship").
Moral relativism and coddling remain in controversial play; secular humanism seems to be advancing just fine. And this is the problem. Well, you know, for some people who happen to hold certain outlooks.
The irony is that moral relativism
is wrecking societal fabric, but it the damage is occurring in our Christian sector; the great example is a Republican who throws down for Christian values also arguing the moral imperative of
not feeding the hungry. Indeed, survey the strange marriage of fiscal and social-Christian conservatism in the GOP over the course of decades, and we see the "grumpy old men" penning those letters were right to fear moral relativism.
Just like the angry Christians screaming about books and music; it turns out they were right, too, as long as we recognize they were describing their own progeny.
This part keeps happening.
The bit about coddling and lowering the bar has always been an interesting proposition. Part of it was invested in objecting to the idea of a "citizenship" award for conduct meritorious in a communal context. For many people, awards shoould only be given at schools and children's camps for being the fastest or strongest, or jumping the highest or farthest. Making the most baskets. Meritorious conduct in the community? That was just lowering the bar, a feelgood award for kids who can't sink a free throw. We ought not be surprised to witness the evolution fo these attitudes into a circumstance whereby "citizenship" is simply a political argument about who is allowed to be in the country.
Which leaves humanism. The indictment against humanism, wielded by its critics, is broad and entirely condemning. The functional differences 'twixt humanism and appeals to constricted abstraction, however, are apparent. Look at the humanist take on rights:
If rights,
then rights. A religious outlook offers the most concrete and regularly applied constriction:
If rights,
then rights,
but God,
ergo fuck rights.
In this case, the perceived threat of humanism is the erasure of insupportable abstraction.
Therefore, humanism becomes the target. A mortal test of a philosophical proposition. It is not specifically ironic, in this case, that the failure of humanism would not only bring about harrowing results subordinate to abstraction, but also justify the abstractions. To wit, if people elect Donald Trump, the place of logic in public policy is dead forever. That is the functional stake of a "life-or-death test" of "everything humanists believe".
We might as well suggest losing the Gay Fray means Christianity has lost a life-or-death test of everything religionists believe.
It's kind of absurd, sure, but what about traditionalism
isn't these days?
This is the target they have left. Whether God or State or Personality Cult of Trump, the point is to disqualify logic, and we need to do so
now more than ever.
Witness of my living American experience is amid an ouroboros transition; the cycle is apparent, and this is our time to learn from history. I cannot tell you quite how much of the exact bullshit these people used to push young people around in the eighties―quite literally the censorship arguments―are in play right now, but, yes, that's where our American discourse on supremacism has arrived.
The only other note I would specifically add is to attend the actual literary history of secular humanism with cautious eye and reserved hand; actual, genuine humanism is not actually in play―the word in the topic post is a straw man.
That is to say, you can put as much effort into illuminating that record as you want, but such an effort will be solely for the benefit of the gallery; it means nothing to our topic poster.