Book review: Carson's Intolerance of Tolerance

"Tolerance" has taken on an idolatrous golden calf status in our culture as of late, being the predominant ideology in nearly all areas of life. In his recent (January, 2012) book The Intolerance of Tolerance, D.A. Carson tackles the elephant in the room, arguing against the current form of tolerance, which ironically is no tolerance at all.

Birthed out of a series of lectures Carson has given across the Western world, the main argument of the book is that tolerance has come to be the prevailing mantra of our time. However, tolerance no longer means what it used to, and the new form of tolerance is not very tolerant at all; at its best it is veiled intolerance and at its worst it borders on the absurd. Carson describes the old tolerance as a stance that acknowledges the existence of both right and wrong, and discoverable, defensible truth. This tolerance accepts "that a different or opposing position exists and deserves the right to exist" (p. 3). This tolerance respectfully engages in debates and criticisms. However, as Carson deftly argues, a new tolerance has taken over that is intolerant of the old tolerance.

The new tolerance, Carson argues, is tolerant of all things on the surface, so long as no dogmatic, absolute, judgmental, critical, or disparaging remarks are made. This new tolerance has become part of the unquestioned plausibility structure; it accepts all opinions and renders them all equally valid. But under this new tolerance, right and wrong cease to have any meaning. It does not acknowledge any specific truth, and labels any religion or system of thought that claims to be true as intolerant. Thus, any disagreement - let alone claims to exclusive truth - is demonized as intolerant, leaving no room for anything but a spineless, tyrannical tolerance. The irony, not lost in the title of the book, is that the new tolerance is actually quite vehemently intolerant of anything that isn't tolerant of the new tolerance: "no absolutism is permitted, except for the absolute prohibition of absolutism" (p. 13).

Of course, tolerance is not really an abstract, personified ideal, but is the dominant thinking of the Western world, and that's not to our credit:

"Cultures in other parts of the world often see in Western (new) tolerance, not a mature and civilized culture worth emulating, but a childish and manipulative culture that refuses to engage with serious moral issues...Far from bringing peace, the new tolerance is progressively becoming more intolerant, fostering moral myopia, proving unable to engage in serious and competent discussions about truth, letting personal and social evils fester, and remaining blind to the political and international perceptions of our tolerant cultural profile." (p. 139)

Well researched, engagingly written, and utterly reasonable, Carson provides myriad examples of how this new tolerance has influenced all areas of life. Copious examples of the absurd and maddening new tolerance are given in the religious, educational, political, academic, and news media spheres. But Carson isn't a paranoid alarmist decrying the loss of the modern age or the takeover of secular humanism. Instead, he firmly engages with popular and academic sources, building his case throughout the book that the old tolerance is necessary for a truly free society, while the new tolerance spirals into inconsistency and even tyranny.

The final chapter offers some practical reflections on what to do about the new tolerance, which was helpful. On a personal note, I especially enjoyed his section on the demise of postmodernity, as well as his discussion of the rampant narcissism in our world and in the church. On a more minor note, it was also refreshing to read an "outsider" lamenting the "moralistic therapeutic deism" that Michael Horton, Christian Smith, and others have been drawing attention to.

Though it is a shorter book, Carson's argument is so tight and his argument so cogently intertwined throughout the book, I find it difficult to review. The only blemish in it is his minor digression on democracy and his reflections on the separation of church and state. He lost me a little bit with his church/state discussion.

I really enjoyed it, as it is intellectually stimulating without being stuffy or overly academic. It is also written from a Christian perspective without being overtly so. It reads like how his lectures would be: given to a mixed audience of academics and the public, Christians and skeptics. Carson is a gifted writer with deep insight. I'd heartily recommend it to Christians and non-Christians alike.

Note: I received an advance copy of this book from Eerdmans in exchange for an objective, but not necessarily positive, review.

Increasing craving for diminishing pleasure

It took me 27+ years, but I'm finally reading C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters (1942). It's a little off-putting to be reading something from the perspective of a demon, but there are some masterful passages, like this one on pleasure. For those unfamiliar with it, it's written from the perspective of a senior demon Screwtape to his younger nephew, Wormwood. Thus, the "Enemy" here is God and "Our Father" is the devil.

"Never forget that when we are dealing with any pleasure in its healthy and normal and satisfying form, we are, in a sense, on the Enemy’s ground. I know we have won many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His invention, not ours. He made the pleasures: all our research so far has not enabled us to produce one. All we can do is to encourage the humans to take the pleasures which our Enemy has produced, at times, or in ways, or in degrees, which He has forbidden. Hence we always try to work away from the natural condition of any pleasure to that in which it is least natural, least redolent of its Maker, and least pleasurable. An ever increasing craving for an ever diminishing pleasure is the formula. It is more certain and it’s better style. To get a man’s soul and give him nothing in return—that’s what really gladdens Our Father’s heart." (pp. 44-45)

The emperor's lack of clothes

Fortunately, postmodernism is on its way out. But much like the devil being bound in Revelation and destroying half the stars with his tail on his way down, postmodernism is still exerting influence even as it draws its final breaths. It knows its defeat is imminent, and it is raging to wreak as much havoc as possible before its demise. What will arise in the vacuum it leaves might be equally as vacuous, absurd, or annoying; but one victory at a time. As we are still picking spoiled remnants of the Enlightenment out of our beards, we will be straining out postmodern influence for many years to come. This is especially true in the church at large, as the church always lags a few years behind academic and cultural thought.

In his recent book The Intolerance of Tolerance, D.A. Carson explains that though postmodernism as a movement is dead, its influence is still widespread. The premise of his book is that "tolerance" has come to be the dominant idiom of our time, even as its definition has changed over the centuries. The old meaning of tolerance is defined as holding to the truth while acknowledging the reality of other people holding to other truth claims, with room for respectful disagreement and criticism. The newer definition of tolerance is that of  claiming that all truths are equally valid except for those that are intolerant. In more extreme cases, the new tolerance does not acknowledge any truth, and labels any religion or system of thought claiming truth as intolerant. Thus, voicing any disagreement, criticism, or claims to exclusivity is ironically demonized as intolerant, leaving no room for anything but "tolerance," which is no truth at all. Full speed ahead to the absurd. The following quotation is worth reading, and Carson uses "tolerance" here in the newer way.

"Regardless of the widespread inability to agree on what it is, postmodernism has exerted incalculable influence in much of the world. Disagreement over the essence of postmodernism cannot blind us to its effect. Almost all sides agree that as a movement postmodernism is dead. Except in some American undergraduate programs, its luminaries are no longer read - certainly not in Europe, whence most of them sprang. Yet the effluents of postmodernism, however defined, are still very much with us, shaping our thoughts and cultural values. What cannot be denied is that, in its wake, countless millions of people find it difficult, at least on some subjects, to think in terms of truth and error, much preferring to think in terms of differences of opinion, of varying perspectives. The dawning of postmodernism coincided, at least in part, with the increasing diversification of the populations of many of the world's metropolises. The impact of this increasing empirical pluralism is multiplied many times over by the digital revolution: with minimal effort we find ourselves exposed to an incredibly broad diversity of cultures, opinions, interpretations of history, languages, and so forth. Moreover, in the virtual world we can create our own realities. All of this conspires to push questions of truth to the margins while magnifying the importance of tolerance...Regardless of the terminology pragmatism now commonly eclipses both nature and religion as cultural authority. But if in its most aggressive forms postmodernism has declined, it has left a residue of subjective eclecticism that fosters the elevation of tolerance to the enthroned status of supreme virtue." (pp. 73-74)

Further, to borrow a C.S. Lewis-ism, postmodernism is built on ladders in the air. The postmodern emperor has no clothes, to mix metaphors. The absurdity of postmodernism has been staring us right in the face, and it is finally starting to show. As leftist scholar Terry Eagleton writes:

"For all its vaunted openness to the Other, postmodernism can be quite as exclusive and censorious as the orthodoxies it opposes. One may, by and large, speak of human culture but not human nature, gender but not class, the body but not biology, jouissance but not justice, post-colonialism but not the petty bourgeoisie. It is a thoroughly orthodox heterodoxy, which like any imaginary form of identity needs its bogeyman and straw targets to stay in business." (qtd. in Carson, pp. 82-83)

We must keep fighting to expose the bogeymen and straw targets of postmodernism for what they are. The best ammunition against such absurdities is the gospel, and especially the "foolishness" of the forgiveness of sins and the incredible triumph of the resurrection.

Laying a musical foundation

I was raised on the Doobie Brothers and CSNY, Gershwin and Handel. While I may not have understood or appreciated such music growing up, it stuck with me. Perhaps overt or perhaps unbeknownst to them, my parents laid a good musical foundation for me. They gave me a head start in my musical understandings and tastes from exposing me to good music. My high school musical tastes notwithstanding, I attribute much of my love for music throughout my life to my parents. (Thanks, Mom and Dad!)

I've been thinking about this more recently now that Mikayla is old enough to recognize that there is music playing, and dance to it. This is my attempt at a representative list of albums across genres that I hope to play for her many times over the next 18 years, in order to unashamedly influence her musical appreciation - if not her actual musical tastes. I know I have omitted some great albums, and by no means is this all that Mikayla will hear from our speakers. But it's a discussion starter at the least. A whole other related post could be what music I want Mikayla to associate with me, much like how I associate America with my Mom or Beethoven with my Dad. In alphabetical order...

1. The Allman Brothers - The Fillmore Concerts. One of the most brilliant live recordings of all time, by one of the greatest classic rock-era bands (and arguably my favorite). The epic 56-minute Whipping Post --> Mountain Jam gives me goosebumps every time. Pink Floyd was a close runner up in the classic rock category, but their live Pulse pales in comparison.

2. Bach's Mass in B Minor.  Though this magnum opus stands or falls on its own, it contains two of the most sublime pieces of music in history: "Cum Sancto Spiritu" and "Et Resurrexit."

3. The Decemberists - The King is Dead. Not my favorite Decemberists album (Picaresque takes that title), but this is a more accessible album (and still very good). It also contains Mikayla's favorite song to dance to: "Calamity Song," as well as several guest appearances by another artist on this list, Gillian Welch.

4. Derek Webb - She Must and Shall Go Free. It was hard for us to choose between Webb, Sandra McCracken, Matthew Perryman Jones, or one of the Indelible Grace albums, but this has three of our all-time favorite songs on it: the title track, Lover, and The Church.

5. Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong - Ella & Louis. The sheer amount of musical talent on this album is easy to overlook thanks to the sheer delight of listening to these two paragons of jazz.

6. Gillian Welch - Revival. I really hope Mikayla loves Welch's music more than I do. Listening to her sounds you've known her all your life.

7. Grateful Dead - American Beauty. I could easily have put Workingman's Dead or Europe '72 here instead, but this is the closest to my heart, and has received the most plays over the years.

8. Handel's Messiah. Not much needs to be said for this. Our version of choice is Christopher Hogwood's masterful recording, introduced to me by my brilliant college roommate.

9. Leo Kottke - 6 & 12 String Guitar. Incredible musicianship on this 1969 gem, and so much fun to listen to. I always find myself wanting more after the ~35 minutes are over. One of the preeminent guitar virtuosos of our age, whose enormous influence is difficult to measure.

10. Railroad Earth - Elko - Another great live recording by another favorite band. Americana, bluegrass, improv, rock. Great songwriting, tight musicianship, and deep passion are all on display here.

Broad, flapping American ears

"Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention from serious things. They are but improved means to an unimproved end, an end which it was already but too easy to arrive at; as railroads lead to Boston or New York. We are in great haste to construct a magnetic telegraph from Maine to Texas; but Maine and Texas, it may be, have nothing important to communicate. Either is in such a predicament as the man who was earnest to be introduced to a distinguished deaf woman, but when he was presented, and one end of her ear trumpet was put into his hand, had nothing to say. As if the main object were to talk fast and not to talk sensibly. We are eager to tunnel under the Atlantic and bring the Old World some weeks nearer to the New; but perchance the first news that will leak through into the broad, flapping American ear will be that Princess Adelaide has the whooping cough. After all, the man whose horse trots a mile in a minute does not carry the most important message; he is not an evangelist, nor does he come round eating locusts and wild honey...

"This spending of the best part of one's life earning money in order to enjoy a questionable liberty during the least valuable part of it reminds me of the Englishman who went to India to make a fortune first, in order that he might return to England and live the life of a poet."

-Henry David Thoreau in Walden, 1854

Book review: Leithart's Dostoevsky

I'm no Russian literature connoisseur, but I enjoy reading heady Russian authors once in a while. Especially in wintertime. In fact, only in wintertime. I also appreciate Peter Leithart's intellect and writing talents, even if I don't understand half of it. So when I saw that Leithart branched out from his theological treatises and wrote a biography on Russian literature legend Fyodor Dostoevsky, I knew I had to read it.

For the above named reasons, I was excited to read Leithart's Fyodor Dostoevsky, a 2011 installment in Thomas Nelson's Christian Encounters Series. Unlike most current best-selling biographies like Steve Jobs' and Charles Hodge's that run 500 pages or more, this is a selective 175 pages. Leithart uses a conversational writing device, framing Dostoyevsky's life in Fyodor's first-person conversation with a old friend. Thus, much of this biography reads more like historical fiction.

Leithart's prose is tight, gripping, and enjoyable. It is written almost like a biopic, complete with flashbacks. The flashbacks come fast and furious, making this biography a quick read. I enjoyed Leithart's style, as it highlights the most important and formative chapters in Dostoevsky's amazing life. Leithart touches on Dostoevsky's banishment to Siberia, deep Christian commitment, sins and struggles, health issues, love affairs, early formative years, political protests, and writing career. Dostoevsky was anything but boring. His lifelong struggle with and against evil and social injustice is the thread that ties the book together.

Because of the complexity of The Russian's life and mind, 200 pages is impossible to give an exhaustive account. Leithart did do extensive research for this book, as evidenced by the copious notes that grace each chapter. Much of the dialogue is taken directly from Dostoevsky's letters and writings, or his contemporaries'. That said, it is not for those looking for a detailed historical account of Dostoevsky's life. Instead, it is enjoyable to get some brief context on his life or to read a light background of his. I would have easily enjoyed it in the summer as much as I did in the winter.

I found myself wishing that Leithart examined Dostoevsky's works and themes in more depth. I loved reading about some of the inspiration behind some of his major novels (namely Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov), but it was a cursory glimpse at best. Dostoevsky's time in Siberia was also not discussed in great detail, which I found odd considering it was one of his most formative events.

In summary, I was glad I read this somewhat fictionalized biography of one of my favorite authors. It reads well and is a good introduction to a Russian icon. Go into it with expectations of "listening" in on a conversation between old friends, and not an exhaustive biography. If you don't, then you might come away disappointed that this book doesn't do justice to Leithart's talents or to Dostoevsky's brilliance.

Note: I received a free copy of this book from Thomas Nelson in exchange for an objective review. The views are my own and only my own.

2012 reading goals

Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows that I love to read. That might be an understatement. Frequenters of this blog also know that I try to set seasonal and yearly reading goals for myself. I do this because there is so much time and so little to read. Wait a minute, strike that, reverse it. So decisions have to be made as to what to read. Thus, I find myself gravitating more toward weighty things lately, and less away from controversial or current trends. I've also been more picky, especially in which books I request from publishers to review (i.e. no more MacArthur or Driscoll). I don't want to be isolationist or provincial, but instead more thoughtful as to what will benefit me the most.

I continue to make lists and goals for myself, though I don't hold as rigidly to them as I once did. While Adler advocated for disciplined reading in the seventies, Jacobs more recently argued for a more organic reading style, driven by serendipity and whims. As with most things, I think the prudent thing is probably somewhere in the middle. I've found this to be true for my reading, making lists in pencil and leaving room for whims. I keep a rough outline of books to read each season, viewable on the right sidebar. But if one books leads naturally to another, I'll change it up. As a related aside, many of you have asked where I hear about books and how I decide what to read. The vast majority of them are either personal recommendations or ideas from readings: recommendations within books, passages quoted in books, or authors mentioned somewhere.

Lists help me maintain good reading habits, so as not to overload on one type or genre of book. I try to read at least one from these areas each season: biography, modern theology, classic theology, family, fiction, essay, and other nonfiction. I've added poetry as a category this year, which brings me to my yearly goals.

I read Calvin's Institutes in 2009, 50 books in 2010, and the Bible in 2011. What will 2012 hold, you might be asking? Well, it's not as ambitious as previous years, but I'm still excited about it. In 2012, I'm hoping to read at least one collection of poetry each season. It's a small goal, but I hope to exceed it by the end of the year. Poetry isn't easy for me to jump in to, so I am starting small. Eliot, Neruda, and Frost are on the docket to start, and I might sprinkle in some Shakespeare as well. Some selections from anthologies is also on the menu. The back-of-my-mind goal is to work my way up to reading Milton's Paradise Lost this year. Since I use recommendations heavily, any poetry recommendations from y'all?