by David Hoyt

Reading the Boghossian report on current state of the humanities in American higher education I was, as I am sure were many others, struck with a sense of déjà vu. Relativism versus realism, an irresponsible academic left versus a scolding academic right, even the same malefactors singled out, as if a cold case from the 1990’s had been exhumed by a prosecutor determined to win the conviction that had escaped them years ago. A few admittedly cringe-worthy declarations of the subjective basis of all thought, together with Inquisitorial assertions of a single truth as the measure of all knowledge lend the document a theological tenor. And as history shows, theological debates tend to conclude only when both parties exhaust themselves and the terms of the debate are somehow shifted. Until this happens, skirmishes such as this one will probably continue to flare up along an ontological front drawn a little more than a century ago, in the context of similar cultural battles, and on either side of which stand opposing models of language.

Those opposing models, based on a then-emergent “ontological Yalta” (the phrase is French anthropologist Philippe Descola’s) between the sciences of nature and the sciences of culture, a sort of Great Divide between Nature and Spirit, emerged across an axis running between Vienna-Prague and Paris-Geneva at the turn of the 20th century. They shared a similar negative relation to the intellectual world of the previous hundred years, as well as a certain methodological orientation emphasizing logical coherence freed of and independent of historical determinations. The study of language, which had underwritten the historicism of the 19th century on the basis of comparative grammar, was being reworked and tested for its potential to provide a theoretical framework for the practice and meaning of science itself.

In light of the Boghossian report’s concern with what it claims is the politicization of scholarship in the humanities, it is important to recognize that what took shape in Saussurian linguistics and the philosophical enterprise of the Vienna Circle in the first three decades of the 20th century were two explicitly political projects. Read more »

by John Ambrosio

In 1984 when Ronald Reagan was re-elected president of the United Staters I asked myself: how is this possible? How was it possible that an ignorant but affable B-rated actor who continually confused his role in Hollywood films with historical reality and his own experience, and whose mental capacity was clearly on the decline, get re-elected president? How did his “Morning in America” campaign advertisement, a vision of a mostly white America imbued with traditional values, religiosity, and patriotic nostalgia, and his promise to “make America great again” by restoring a 1950s idealized and fictionalized past, convince voters to re-elect Reagan in a landslide?

I ask myself a similar question today: how could a convicted felon who has been found liable for sexual assault, and who incited a mob of his supporters to try to violently overturn a free and fair election get re-elected president of the United States? More than 77 million Americans, a slight majority of voters, supported Trump despite his deranged rants, racist rhetoric, and his relentless attacks on immigrants, the judiciary, journalists and the mainstream media, transgender people, and the “enemy from within.” How did a grifter, con man, failed businessman, and Mafia don, who promised to “make America great again” by deporting immigrants and lowering prices, persuade voters to re-elect him?

While there are numerous theories that seek to explain these electoral outcomes, there is something deeper going on here that is not captured in the conceptual and analytical frameworks typically employed to analyze national politics. It is the ocean in which we all swim, the ambient condition that underlies contemporary political life and the particular forms that ideological conflict takes in the U.S. today.

Wendy Brown, the renowned political theorist and author of Nihilistic Times, provides a different way of thinking about and understanding our current predicament. She argues that the rise of anti-democratic populism, extreme political polarization, and post-truth politics in the U.S. is a consequence of pervasive nihilism. Not nihilism understood as “an individual attitude of darkness, despair, or cynicism in which nothing in the world, including life itself, is thought to have meaning,” but as a symptom of a deeper problem stemming from a “historical, cultural condition of modernity specific to the crumbling of religious authority spurred by the Enlightenment.”

In other words, Brown argues that the rise of reason and scientific truth, what Max Weber calls the “disenchantment of the mysteries of the world,” has displaced religious and traditional authority as the foundation for values, but “it cannot replace what it destroys.” That is, science can “tell us how things work,” but it cannot tell us “how we should live,” what we should value, or why we should value it. Read more »

by Brooks Riley

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by Malcolm Murray

Javier Milei’s libertarian government in Argentina recently laid out a new framework for corporations in the country. Among the various simplifications to attract more investment, was a highly interesting one – the creation of Sociedad Automatizada – automated corporations run by AI agents without the need for any human involvement. This could just be a PR move (it is unclear if it’ll pass parliament). Milei is in need of some good PR, struggling as he is with an economy with persistent high inflation despite his chainsaw economic management. Others speculate that this is related to Peter Thiel’s recent move to Argentina. But if this becomes law, it could make Argentina the first jurisdiction to allow for fully autonomous AI corporations.

This could obviously bring all kinds of risks. Yuval Noah Harari laid these out well in a letter to the FT. However, it is likely the kind of experimentation we need and should be applauded.

What are AI corporations? A recent paper by Arbel, Salib and Goldstein offers some definitions. Basically, like other corporations, it is an entity with legal personhood. This means it can take actions and it can receive counter-actions, such as being sued. The difference with regular corporations is that no human needs to be involved, it can be fully run by autonomous AI agents. Note that this does not provide any claims of personhood to the individual AI agents, only to the corporation. Neither does it of course make any moral claims as to AI welfare or consciousness or the like.

The risks are obvious. An AI corporation can operate at machine speed beyond human recognition and could cause “flash crashes” before any human would have time to react. As mentioned by Harari, the standard deterrent of the CEO being put in jail would not deter AIs, so it is unclear what deterrents there are to prevent the AI corporation from conducting illegal actions. If AI money is also speech and AI corporations are allowed to make political donations, they could quickly gain significant political influence and gain economic advantages. Quantity has a quality all its own, as Stalin said.

However, these might be necessary risks to take in order to experiment with AI liability. Read more »

by Barry Goldman

The Wild Duck is an old poker story. It has other names. Lollapalooza is one. But the way I heard it was Wild Duck.

It seems a stranger came to town and got in a back-room poker game with some of the local boys. After an hour or two he drew a full house and bet it hard. A guy on the other side of the table raised. The stranger raised him back. Finally, he called, lay down his full house, and reached for the pot. The other guy said, “Not so fast, stranger, I’ve got a Wild Duck” and he turned over a pair of fours and a three, six, nine of different suits.

The rest of the boys at the table cheered “Wild Duck! Wild Duck!” and raised their glasses. “What the hell is a Wild Duck?” the stranger cried. The bartender came over, put a large hand on the stranger’s shoulder and said, “A Wild Duck beats anything. House rules.”

The stranger considered his options and sat back down. After another hour or two he looked at his hand and saw a pair of fours and a three, six, nine of different suits. He bet it hard. Another guy raised. The stranger raised him back and the other guy raised again. The stranger went all in. He lay down his Wild Duck with a flourish and reached for the pot. The room was silent.

The bartender came over again and pointed to a small sign on the wall behind the bar. It said: A Wild Duck is only good once a night.

The Purcell Principle comes from a 2006 Supreme Court case called Purcell v. Gonzalez.  In Purcell the State of Arizona had enacted a law intended to “combat voter fraud by requiring voters to present proof of citizenship when they register to vote and to present identification when they vote on election day.” Plaintiffs sued on the grounds that the new requirements violated the Constitution. The Court of Appeals found for the plaintiffs and prevented the new law from going into effect. The Supreme Court stayed the Court of Appeals decision on the grounds that it was too close to the election to change the rules and voters might be confused.

This was odd. As Edwin Chemerinsky pointed out, “Why should unconstitutional or illegal restrictions on voting be allowed just because the challenge is being heard soon before the election?”  But there it is. Purcell stands for the proposition that “lower federal courts should ordinarily not alter the election rules on the eve of an election.”

The Supreme Court has invoked the principle several times in subsequent cases. Read more »

Inlaid stoneware, needle felted wool on industrial felt, 2022.

More here, here, and here.

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Hello Readers and Writers,

We received a large number of submissions of sample essays in our search for new columnists. Most of them were excellent and it was very hard deciding whom to accept and whom not to. If you did not get selected, it does not at all mean that we didn’t like what you sent; we just have a limited number of slots and also sometimes we have too many people who want to write about the same subject. Today we welcome to 3QD the following persons, in alphabetical order by last name:

1. Carlota Figueroa
2. Marianne Janack
3. Sean Murphy
4. Eli Rarey
5. Paweł Skała-Piękoś

I will be in touch with you in the next days to schedule a start date. The “3QD Magazine” page will be updated with short bios and photographs of the new writers on or before the day they start.

Thanks to all of the people who sent samples of writing to us. It was a pleasure to read them all. Congratulations to the new writers!

Best wishes,

Abbas

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Womb of Being

Here I am, in it,
curled as you are,
as all are who breathe.

I found myself here, not by my choice
but by that of something other. So, I’m here
wondering how you interpret the
mystery of it —not its biology,
but the phenomenology of it,
the cloud of meanings of its
textures and structures, the
before, now, and after of it, the
all-and-what’s-next of it
curled as we are in this
womb of now, waiting,
anticipating new birth
in a next moment, waiting
to be thrust beyond by the
pulsations of past moments.

Jim Culleny, 6/21/26

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by Marie Snyder

My cat died of pancreatic adenocarcinoma a few weeks ago. In March she had an annual check up and was deemed to be in good health for 13, although a bit overweight. We noticed that she was walking a little funny sometimes, so the vet suggested we think about arthritis medication. Then one day in May, just before our appointment to start meds for her suspected arthritis, she went into hiding. A more in-depth vet appointment discovered that her changed gait wasn’t from her joints, but from a huge abdominal mass. It took some tests to find out what it was, then came the dreaded decision-making about what to do about it. Apparently cats can live for months with the condition but often with a very dismal quality of life.

BURYING DIFFICULT PERSONALITIES

She was an ornery cat despite living a life of safety and comfort. I have a certain respect for the fact that she’d snap if you pet her one too many times or in a way that she didn’t want today. She was my work companion, often snuggled in beside me during online school sessions or marking marathons, but there was more than one time during a meeting that she suddenly attacked my arm if I gestured too widely, and I had to feign nonchalance as I shook her off me just outside of camera range. And she was always a bit dirty. As soft as she appeared, her fur acted like velcro, tracking litter throughout the house. Despite regular brushing, wherever she curled up, she left behind the expected layer of hair, but also bits of gravel and maybe some sticks and leaves. Of course she loved to sleep in my bed under the covers. (And who could say no to a tiny mew beckoning to be let in?) I feel asleep to her purrs, but I’d often be rudely awakened by a few sharp bats to the head if I moved around too much. She either couldn’t learn or didn’t care that disciplining me would cost her bed-privileges for the rest of the night. 

I had her undeserved adoration from the day we took her and her sister home. For a good year after we started letting her out, if I’d go for a bike ride, I could turn to see her running down the street after me (a very safe, quiet street). While I admired her feistiness, I often loved her in spite of her personality. And I wonder how much I held her in a special place of honour because she chose me, and if that “counts” as love. 

It’s complicated burying loved ones with whom we have a complex relationship. 

On top of the grief, I have some guilt. I haven’t just accepted her death; I was kind of looking forward to it. It sounds horrible and uncaring, but there it is. Maybe it’s from my Jungian dominant function being task-oriented (aka thinking-type) so I might see what needs to be done more than the people or animals in front of me. It’s a sense of “What’s next on the list?” like gleefully anticipating reading a good book at home once we can make an exit from a party. A future-focus can keep us engaged and productive, but can also keep from actually existing in the present. That’s certainly one way to look at it, but I don’t think that’s the whole story.  Read more »

by Eric Feigenbaum

You can’t be the leader of a small island nation in Southeast Asia without a sharp focus on China. While Singapore as we know it was founded by the British and the modern Republic of Singapore by and large adopted British institutions – it no longer relies on its colonial parent for either security or trade.

Instead, Singapore – like so many countries in Southeast Asia – finds itself preoccupied with the United States, its largest security partner – and China, its largest trade partner with particular respect to exports. Singapore built a thriving economy based on its unique position of culturally and linguistically straddling East and West. Its people understand not just the words, but the ideas and minds of both Orient and Occident.

Singapore’s long-governing, founding Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew was an ardent anti-communist who in 1965 said things like:

I cannot in all honesty say that communism is a diabolical evil, because I can imagine certain human societies where it was a great relief to have the communists displace a ruling power. That is another of the very difficult problems we face in this country. To some 600 million Chinese, that philosophy was the answer and is the answer to a decadent, a corrupt and an evil society which has become evil because men have lost their self-respect and lost their values.

Yet, later in his career he became a consultant to Deng Xiaoping, helping China plan reforms that would transform it from its former truly communist self to the more capitalist, albeit authoritarian state we know today. To Lee, moving China toward capitalism and participation in the world economy was a net positive. China being part of a cooperative global order was the attainable win that would make the world safer. Read more »

by David Winner

As a species of Jew, the child of a self-declared “violent atheist” Jew and a gentile mother, I’ve found some use in the Jew vs. Zionist distinction. Long before October 7th and the genocide in Gaza, I’ve found it hard to extricate the history of Israel  from the erasure of the Palestinian people. Please look around for a clip of Rabin revealing what Ben Gurion told him about Palestinian villages in the late forties if you doubt that conclusion.The Jew/Zionist distinction has allowed me to remain proud of my Jewish heritage while distancing myself from Israel.

But rage against “Zionists” has recently begun to seem broader than disdain for Israel.While it was comforting that Khymani James, a student leader of the pro-Palestinian movement at Columbia University thought only Zionists (not Jews) deserve to die and that we should be “grateful” that he was not “just going out and murdering Zionists,” I wondered why he was threatening to kill people and how killing supporters of Israel in New York would help Palestinians in Gaza.

But the Jew/Zionist distinction really lost ground with me after Jared Moskowitz, a democratic congressman from Florida, received death threats over the phone proclaiming the need to “kill every single fucking Zionist scumbag” because “the US. Government needs to kill Jews.”And then, of course, there has been Tucker Carlson’s sudden opposition to Trump in part because of his “globalist” sympathy with Israel and Jews. These haters clearly hold no distinction between Zionists and Jews. And none of them (clearly racist) show any concern for Palestinians.

Of course, I was worried and saddened to hear all this as a Jew myself and a person who wants, as Rodney King so plaintively put it decades ago, for people to “just get long.” But it also revealed a problem with what had once seemed like a useful term. Read more »

by S. Abbas Raza

From the Dept. of Shower Thoughts (literally, this morning): I keep seeing, especially as advice for young people, that the skill needed to thrive in our AI dominated, rapidly transforming future is going to be the ability to continually learn new things and skills and being “adaptable”. Okay, I guess in some ways it is a good thing to learn new things and new skills (even I do so from time to time, remember my choir singing from a couple of years ago? ). But newness also brings stress and anxiety. Most of you will remember your first day at some new school and the dread and anxiety of that experience, simply caused by everything being new. And every new thing brings that to some degree or other, I think. We can deal with this comfortably if the changes come at a certain pace, but beyond that, we may all experience what I have been experiencing over the last year in trying to stay on top of what the frontier AI models are capable of and how I can use them: severe stress and CONSTANT learning of an ever-changing subject. How I do some routine things this month is not going to be the same as I do those things next month. This is becoming too much for me already. So, is re-living the first day in a new school every month or every week what all our futures are going to look like? If so, I will need all the Xanax I can get my hands on!

P.S. Related thought: The newest form of polarization in society is people who emphasize the ways in which AI is different from human brains vs. the people who emphasize how they are similar. They are, of course, both. So you can find plenty of evidence for whichever side you support.

P.P.S. Please give some feedback on whether my sharing these barely formed thoughts here on 3QD is good or just a waste of your time!

***

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This is a lightly edited transcript of an online video conversation. You can get more information about Ravi Shavi’s new album Wild Rock Dove here. Instagram link here.

Abbas: I’m happy to have Rafay Rashid with me today and now I’m just going to read the bio he sent me: “Rafay was born in Islamabad, Pakistan, and grew up in New York and Rhode Island. He makes experimental pop and no-wave songs under the moniker Ravi Shavi that are confessional, ecstatic, and confrontational. His writing emerged as a response to growing up a Muslim kid in the neoliberal hellscape of post-9/11 America. Ravi Shavi became a persona and vehicle for both radical healing and anarchic humor as he crafted a niche amid the noise and freak-folk music scenes of Providence, Rhode Island, in the late aughts. Since then, he has cut his teeth touring independently throughout the past decade, opening for such acts as Charles Bradley, Of Montreal, Man Man, Budos Band, Los Lobos, and The Black Lips. Ravi Shavi will be performing with Spoon on June 19, 2026, in Providence, Rhode Island. He has a new album coming out, which is what we are here to talk about. It is called Wild Rock Dove.”

So, Rafay, thanks for coming. It’s good to see you.

Rafay: The biography sounds so loaded coming out of your mouth.

Abbas: People compare my personality to that of a shotgun. I can be loaded; I can also be locked.

Rafay: I was picturing the Ken Burns effect, with photographs from my life. I had never pictured that while reading the bio before, so thank you for that. Thanks for having me.

Abbas: Sure thing. Just to let everybody else know, I really like Rafay’s music. Full disclosure: Rafay is a friend, and in some distant way, through marriage, we are also related. No blood relation, as far as I know.

I have only met Rafay a few times, but it has always been real, and we have always had interesting conversations. And, as I already said, I love his music. I heard one of your songs today, Rafay, not completely deliberately but because several of your songs are part of my exercise playlist. As I was doing a little workout, your voice came on.

A song from one of Rafay’s older albums

You have done so many things. You got a master’s in… tell me about that. In what?

Rafay: In mental health counseling, or, more colloquially, therapy. It was something I had never really seriously considered for myself until my own process of getting sober. I don’t know why they always call it a journey, getting sober, but I got sober in 2020. Then the pandemic happened, gigs started slowing down, and the work I was doing on art exhibitions had ended and dried up. So I thought, well, I had a good time in rehab. Maybe I could run some groups. I always liked socializing with people and getting the conversation going. Read more »

One of the various types of flowers my wife grows in our backyard.

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by Charles Siegel

A couple of weeks ago I saw an item in Lit Hub Daily, about how June 4^th would be the 86^th anniversary of the publication of The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, Carson McCullers’ debut novel. This item brought back many wonderful memories — of the novel, of the time in my life when I read it, of the movie made of it, and of an uncanny coincidence.

It’s very hard to define the book. The Lit Hub story linked to a piece by Mary Dearborn, one of McCullers’ biographers:  Literary Hub » Literature’s Lonely Hunter: On the “Sad, Happy Life” of Carson McCullers. She aptly described it as follows:

But the novel itself was an outlier. It did not fit any of the accepted and expected categories of mainstream fiction. It was neither a love story nor a bildungsroman, it did not have characters whom readers could recognize as like themselves, it did not have a happy ending, and it did not have a single strong narrative line. Instead, it followed a striking group of oddballs and misfits, the inhabitants of a small Southern city who individually take their hopes and fears to another oddball and misfit.

The other oddball and misfit to whom all hopes and fears are taken is named John Singer. Singer is a deaf-mute, who cares for, in both senses, another deaf-mute, a man with mental illness named Antonapoulos. Eventually Antonapoulos is committed to an asylum, and Singer must move to another small town in Georgia to be near him. He takes a room in the home of Mick Kelly, a teenage girl whose father has been injured in a work accident and is no longer employed; the family is poor and has to take in boarders. Mick is full of all the things teenagers are full of: hopes, dreams, longing, desires, anxieties, fears, and everything else. Read more »