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A review by beaconatnight
How to Stay Sane in an Age of Division by Elif Shafak
4.0
"Are you one of us or are you one of them?"
In How to Stay Sane in an Age of Division Elif Shafak makes the case for multiple belongings. She herself was born in France, lived her formative years in Turkey, and later immigrated to Spain and the US, before becoming a UK citizen. It's easy to imagine how she struggled to come to terms with her own identity.
As she explains, the UK has become her home, yet she still sees herself as Istanbulite. She's European by birth and embraces what she thinks of as "European" values. To the mind of the novelist it's by stories that we expand our horizon and are able explore other parts of the world and different views of life. Perhaps we may incorporate new perspectives into a more cosmopolitan identity.
The pluralist standing is very different from what is going on right now. With the recent escalation of the Arab–Israeli conflict I was shocked by how deeply ingrained the Us vs. Them pattern of thinking actually was. It made me aware of how few the connecting points (is there no idiomatic idea of Anknüpfungspunkte in the English language?) with the Arab point of view thoroughly silenced. Hell, I even wanted to write "in our everyday life" when composing this paragraph.
Shafak states that in the age of the internet and social media there is too much information and not enough knowledge (and even less wisdom). She makes the rather obvious observation that algorithms decide what information we are presented with and that in this way we find confirmed the views we already endorse.
I think this shouldn't distract from the more interesting philosophical idea that only very few of our believes concern brute facts (like the number of people killed in this or that event, the things said or promised by politicians, or the likes). What social media confirms is something like the accuracy of the general framing, the factors to be considered as of real significance, the relative standing of people and groups, these kinds of things. It's in the (mostly) intuitive interpretation that we apply the (mostly) unconsciously acquired concepts and construe the views of issues that we share with our peers.
I think when Shafak speaks of multiple belongings what she primarily drives at is that we can come to understand and perhaps adopt different views and incorporate different experiences or practices. This can be somewhat mundane things like the kind of food you eat or the music you listen to. It can also be more encompassing religious, political, or philosophical doctrines (in the neutral sense of the word). Shared understandings is evidently a crucial component to shared identity.
Obviously, it's not the only component. No matter what kinds of books I read, food I eat, where I lived, or what theories I championed, I would never be an Arab, Indochinese, or whatever. Ethical and national history, biological factors (the way we look), shared experiences and griefs, or shared causes of course matter. It would be naive to think that openness and the willingness to communicate can (quickly) solve all problems. But I still like to think that the open exchange of reasons – assuming a certain degree of mutual understanding of viewpoints – is conducive to progress.
The conflict in the Middle East also reveals unreflected ideas of white supremacy. I've read this a couple of days ago and I felt that this was true. But again, the theoretical framework of interpretation-over-fact implies that there is no simple assignment of truth and false, it's not that black-and-white. So let me explain.
I think the sense of superiority is often grounded in pride of the values "we" endorse. Of course I strongly believe in liberal values (i.e. equal basic rights and freedoms) and in democratic values (i.e. equal chance of political participation). They are necessary for individuals to freely pursue their ideals of what constitute a good life. Of course, in an ideal world there shouldn't be armed conflict. In regard to these achievements institutions can be superior over others.
However, I'm still worried that many political speeches the past couple of weeks express ideas of ethical supremacy over an antagonist that is different. At the beginning of the speech Shafak talks about how minorities are systematically silenced. Of course this is why there are no points of contact with "the other side". I don't know how it was elsewhere in the "Western world" but here in Germany there was almost zero representation of the situation in Gaza other than with respect to Hamas. People don't want (certain) other people to be people, to quote the great Gene Wolfe.
Shafak discusses what she thinks are the repercussions of this situation. I find it psychologically plausible that feeling mostly unheard will make you a reluctant listener and that in the end you draw back to your social enclave. This is probably true about large parts of the Turkish community in Germany. And it's also plausible that anger ensues as a reaction if there are no other ways to challenge injustice. Shafak agrees with many of her readers that anger can be channeled to become a force for good, though of course she doesn't approve of violence.
This brings me to the role of emotions that figures prominently in Shafak's pamphlet. The title suggests that the work is intended to be therapeutic in spirit. She proposes that we should endorse our dark emotions and even express them on social media and elsewhere. It might even be a gateway to better understand "the other side", since it's likely that others will share many sentiments.
There is another aspect of the talk that relates to this (in fact, all sections are named after what you might call political emotions). The citizens of democratic societies often think of themselves as outsiders to the issues discussed so far. But even if you agree that societies built on liberal and democratic principles constitute progress, there are constant signs that progress isn't a one-way street. And progress is obviously not just a matter of just institutions, but of liberal and democratic attitudes (what you might think of a civic virtue). It's a truism to say that on many long-lasting issues of racism, Islamophobia, antisemitism, gender discrimination, and the likes there are no ready-made answers. The only remedy is openness, communication, and the willingness to put in effort and energy.
At one point Shafak says that we shouldn't just skim through the news or scroll down online newspaper articles. We should actively engage with the numbers we read (what do they mean exactly?), do historical research, or acquire new concepts to frame the issues, and put this into more in-depth analysis. We should discuss our assessments. This is where the stories come back in. To really understand the matters at hand, we need to listen to the stories of the people involved and bring it down to the level of experience. Be it in novels, documentaries, TV shows, or in biographical blog posts.
What I've said in the last paragraph – "we should try to find the time and energy to do in-depth analysis" – is of course not very realistic. There are very few scholars among us. Most of us know very little about things. There are no certainties, even if the social-media bubbles suggest otherwise. The sense of bewilderment and being overwhelmed can be a paralyzing feeling. Yet, these too – apathy and bewilderment – are among the human emotions we should openly acknowledge instead of opting for deceptive certainties or political indifference.
I'm not sure where I'm going with all this. I think I'll just leave it at that and say that the talk sure expressed many stimulating ideas to follow up on. I highly recommend the one and one-and-a-half hours audiobook version read by the author herself.
Rating: 4/5
In How to Stay Sane in an Age of Division Elif Shafak makes the case for multiple belongings. She herself was born in France, lived her formative years in Turkey, and later immigrated to Spain and the US, before becoming a UK citizen. It's easy to imagine how she struggled to come to terms with her own identity.
As she explains, the UK has become her home, yet she still sees herself as Istanbulite. She's European by birth and embraces what she thinks of as "European" values. To the mind of the novelist it's by stories that we expand our horizon and are able explore other parts of the world and different views of life. Perhaps we may incorporate new perspectives into a more cosmopolitan identity.
The pluralist standing is very different from what is going on right now. With the recent escalation of the Arab–Israeli conflict I was shocked by how deeply ingrained the Us vs. Them pattern of thinking actually was. It made me aware of how few the connecting points (is there no idiomatic idea of Anknüpfungspunkte in the English language?) with the Arab point of view thoroughly silenced. Hell, I even wanted to write "in our everyday life" when composing this paragraph.
Shafak states that in the age of the internet and social media there is too much information and not enough knowledge (and even less wisdom). She makes the rather obvious observation that algorithms decide what information we are presented with and that in this way we find confirmed the views we already endorse.
I think this shouldn't distract from the more interesting philosophical idea that only very few of our believes concern brute facts (like the number of people killed in this or that event, the things said or promised by politicians, or the likes). What social media confirms is something like the accuracy of the general framing, the factors to be considered as of real significance, the relative standing of people and groups, these kinds of things. It's in the (mostly) intuitive interpretation that we apply the (mostly) unconsciously acquired concepts and construe the views of issues that we share with our peers.
I think when Shafak speaks of multiple belongings what she primarily drives at is that we can come to understand and perhaps adopt different views and incorporate different experiences or practices. This can be somewhat mundane things like the kind of food you eat or the music you listen to. It can also be more encompassing religious, political, or philosophical doctrines (in the neutral sense of the word). Shared understandings is evidently a crucial component to shared identity.
Obviously, it's not the only component. No matter what kinds of books I read, food I eat, where I lived, or what theories I championed, I would never be an Arab, Indochinese, or whatever. Ethical and national history, biological factors (the way we look), shared experiences and griefs, or shared causes of course matter. It would be naive to think that openness and the willingness to communicate can (quickly) solve all problems. But I still like to think that the open exchange of reasons – assuming a certain degree of mutual understanding of viewpoints – is conducive to progress.
The conflict in the Middle East also reveals unreflected ideas of white supremacy. I've read this a couple of days ago and I felt that this was true. But again, the theoretical framework of interpretation-over-fact implies that there is no simple assignment of truth and false, it's not that black-and-white. So let me explain.
I think the sense of superiority is often grounded in pride of the values "we" endorse. Of course I strongly believe in liberal values (i.e. equal basic rights and freedoms) and in democratic values (i.e. equal chance of political participation). They are necessary for individuals to freely pursue their ideals of what constitute a good life. Of course, in an ideal world there shouldn't be armed conflict. In regard to these achievements institutions can be superior over others.
However, I'm still worried that many political speeches the past couple of weeks express ideas of ethical supremacy over an antagonist that is different. At the beginning of the speech Shafak talks about how minorities are systematically silenced. Of course this is why there are no points of contact with "the other side". I don't know how it was elsewhere in the "Western world" but here in Germany there was almost zero representation of the situation in Gaza other than with respect to Hamas. People don't want (certain) other people to be people, to quote the great Gene Wolfe.
Shafak discusses what she thinks are the repercussions of this situation. I find it psychologically plausible that feeling mostly unheard will make you a reluctant listener and that in the end you draw back to your social enclave. This is probably true about large parts of the Turkish community in Germany. And it's also plausible that anger ensues as a reaction if there are no other ways to challenge injustice. Shafak agrees with many of her readers that anger can be channeled to become a force for good, though of course she doesn't approve of violence.
This brings me to the role of emotions that figures prominently in Shafak's pamphlet. The title suggests that the work is intended to be therapeutic in spirit. She proposes that we should endorse our dark emotions and even express them on social media and elsewhere. It might even be a gateway to better understand "the other side", since it's likely that others will share many sentiments.
There is another aspect of the talk that relates to this (in fact, all sections are named after what you might call political emotions). The citizens of democratic societies often think of themselves as outsiders to the issues discussed so far. But even if you agree that societies built on liberal and democratic principles constitute progress, there are constant signs that progress isn't a one-way street. And progress is obviously not just a matter of just institutions, but of liberal and democratic attitudes (what you might think of a civic virtue). It's a truism to say that on many long-lasting issues of racism, Islamophobia, antisemitism, gender discrimination, and the likes there are no ready-made answers. The only remedy is openness, communication, and the willingness to put in effort and energy.
At one point Shafak says that we shouldn't just skim through the news or scroll down online newspaper articles. We should actively engage with the numbers we read (what do they mean exactly?), do historical research, or acquire new concepts to frame the issues, and put this into more in-depth analysis. We should discuss our assessments. This is where the stories come back in. To really understand the matters at hand, we need to listen to the stories of the people involved and bring it down to the level of experience. Be it in novels, documentaries, TV shows, or in biographical blog posts.
What I've said in the last paragraph – "we should try to find the time and energy to do in-depth analysis" – is of course not very realistic. There are very few scholars among us. Most of us know very little about things. There are no certainties, even if the social-media bubbles suggest otherwise. The sense of bewilderment and being overwhelmed can be a paralyzing feeling. Yet, these too – apathy and bewilderment – are among the human emotions we should openly acknowledge instead of opting for deceptive certainties or political indifference.
I'm not sure where I'm going with all this. I think I'll just leave it at that and say that the talk sure expressed many stimulating ideas to follow up on. I highly recommend the one and one-and-a-half hours audiobook version read by the author herself.
Rating: 4/5