Defining and Defending Postmodern part I

Within many evangelical circles, few epithets are more damning than postmodern. On the one hand, evangelical writers sometimes use the label to conjure images of ivory-tower nerds engaged in self-aggrandizing contest to see who can say the least with the maximum number of syllables. "Postmodern" thus serves as code for hipper-than-thou, leftist elitism coupled with essential vapidity.

For worldview apologists, "postmodern" is even worse. It's a cynical, amoral philosophy that jettisons the notion of Truth altogether--including and especially the Truth of Christianity--in favor of self-centered pleasure-seeking. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for nothing really matters." Postmoderns, in this view, disbelieve in moral absolutes, which (for worldview-trained evangelicals) must therefore mean that they have no morals and are incapable of ethics.

Since I identify as a postmodernist myself, I take some issue with the idea that Christianity and postmodernity necessarily conflict.

What is postmodernism, anyway?

Postmodernism, a term originally used to describe a particular style of architecture, designates a general trend (or array of trends) in culture, art, politics, scholarship, and philosophy emerging roughly in the later twentieth century. Like many such labels (including evangelical), postmodern gets mobilized in the service of so many descriptions by so may different people that it's arguable whether it really describes anything specific at all. As is the case with evangelical, attempts to draw clear lines around postmodernism as a set idea or group inevitably fail.

That being said, when it's considered within particular contexts (I myself draw mainly on post-structuralist critical theory within the humanities), postmodern does usefully name a roughly identifiable set of assumptions about reality and truth. A quick analogy that I use in my classes might illustrate how I imagine these assumptions.

During his confirmation hearings, Chief Justice John Roberts claimed that he would, if confirmed, operate as an umpire, calling strikes and pitches honestly without intentionally interfering in the game. His depiction, though, ignores the fact that umping can be conceived of in any one of (at least) three ways. Imagine three umpires talking about how they call balls and strikes (I confess I misremember exactly where I first heard this illustration).

"There are balls and there are strikes," says the first umpire, "and I call 'em like they are."

The second shakes his head. "There are balls and there are strikes," says he, "and I call 'em like I see 'em."

The third umpire thinks a bit, frowns, and says, "There are balls and there are strikes, but they ain't nothing until I call 'em."

Brutally simplifying centuries of complex debate, I'll characterize the first umpire as advocating an objective view of Truth and Reality, one roughly coincident with the predominant mindset of Euro-American modernity (i.e., the Renaissance until the twentieth century). Truth exists objectively and is discoverable by humans, primarily through empirical means. Humans may either represent that Truth faithfully or they may misrepresent it (intentionally or unintentionally).

The second umpire represents the ostensible opposite of the first view, a subjective philosophy where the Truth isn't really known (or perhaps doesn't exist) and is therefore totally open to human interpretation. Subjective impression and personal opinion hold equal status to empirical fact. This view is often the one attributed to postmodernity, painting a picture of jejune academics insisting on the legitimacy of any old crazy notion they can come up with.

I would argue, however, that a totally subjective view of reality and truth such as that doesn't actually exist as a serious philosophical or theoretical position. It's a straw man of postmodern thought that exists mainly so that critics of postmodernity can knock it down. No one really argues that reality is only a matter of individual opinion, just as no one (outside of some mentally disturbed person, perhaps) seriously argues that she could, for instance, ignore gravity or walk through walls by virtue of her beliefs about physics.

My take on postmodernity lies closer to the third umpire's statement, a view I call (after Michel Foucault) discursive rather than subjective.

More on that tomorrow,

JF