Backlog: this review was written shortly after the live event on 16th July 2018 at the London 02 Arena, which I attended.
A couple of years ago, it would have been unthinkable that the O2 would host an event bearing more similarity to a lecture than a rock concert. It would be a further leap of implausibility, then, to imagine such an event drawing in almost eight thousand people, with a queue of not-just-university types stretching all the way out of the door. The event consisted of three men, on stage, simply talking – a format which is bound to have raised a few eyebrows at the O2 planning department! As Sam Harris joked, “It is especially flattering to us that Justin Bieber isn’t coming out to perform in the middle of this.”
Jordan Peterson has expressed a similar amazement at his own meteoric rise to fame. Going from a largely unknown Canadian Psychology Professor at the University of Toronto two years ago, he has since become one of the most well-known and sought after public intellectuals on the planet. Peterson can be seen everywhere; on national television, podcasts, public debates, YouTube channels, radio shows and more. His biggest UK feature so far has been the (now infamous) Channel 4 interview with Cathy Newman, which went viral after their heated exchange led to much online ridicule for Channel 4.
Peterson is most known for his critique of the radical (or “regressive”) left, and the threat ‘identity politics’ poses to freedom of speech. His book 12 Rules for Life – An Antidote to Chaos, outlines ideas about how people can improve themselves and live meaningful lives in the modern world. If Dr Peterson can be said to have a main thesis for his thought, it seems to be that human suffering is inevitable, that we all must bear our crosses as best we can, and yet in making this great existential effort we can find meaning and fulfilment amongst the chaos of life. Taking personal responsibility for ourselves and for the world is therefore the principal value advocated by Peterson, always the self-reliant intellectual cowboy of the Canadian frontier.
Unfortunately, Peterson’s psychological ideas were not given much air to breathe in this discussion with Sam Harris and Douglas Murray, which focused mainly on religion and the role of myth in creating meaning and identity. Peterson was out of his element discussing religion and atheism, perhaps unsurprising given his company. Harris, the famous philosopher, neuroscientist and author, has spent many years engaging in such debates. As one the most established and well-known intellectuals in this area, cutting his teeth as one of the “Four Horseman of New Atheism” (the eye-rolling name being intentional, allegedly), Harris has battled for years on the public stage against religion. Alongside his fellow ‘Horsemen’: the late journalist and contrarian Christoper Hitchens, academic philosopher Daniel Dennett, and the ever-controversial Richard Dawkins, Harris is well established on the public intellectual circuit.
Another thing that was a pity about the evening was Douglas Murray being relegated to merely the role of moderator, remaining silent for most of the discussion. This is a shame, as Murray is an interesting and unique thinker in his own right, and his few contributions were often deeply insightful.
While now travelling in similar “concentric circles” and having done previous events together, the first thing noticeable about the speakers was their radically different oratory styles. Harris’ rational cadence provided clarity and calm to the discussion at hand. Peterson however speaks with a frenetic energy, his points exploding onto the stage, before spinning off on wild, unexpected tangents. Despite this Peterson is always highly articulate, mitigating his occasional lack of rhetorical precision.
This difference in oratory style was also matched by the radically different positions, which on occasion led to sparks flying. Harris’ most striking critique of Peterson was his lack of precision on the topic of religion, embodied in his inability to answer clearly what his own religious beliefs actually are. This point received a round of applause from the audience, to which Peterson reacted with severity, proclaiming he would have “none of that” (I clapped too, and admittedly felt a little sheepish after such a stern response). He contended that we all “act out” things we can’t fully understand, otherwise we would be omniscient, hence there is no simple answer to the question.
This was a somewhat bizarre answer that is unlikely to have satisfied many of Peterson`s detractors on this point. True neurologically speaking no doubt, but in response to a question about accepting or rejecting the claim that there is a God, this is hardly a sufficient answer. It’s hard to shake the feeling that many of us would have been happier with an honest “I don’t know” to this question, instead of this complicated answer that felt like obfuscation. That being said, Peterson is never one to talk down to audiences or pretend more certainty than he actually has. This answer, whilst unsatisfying, is at least likely to be authentic.
Peterson was at his strongest however, when arguing not about the truth of religious beliefs, but about the utility of religious institutions to society. He argued that religion is “ineradicably necessary” in securing meaning in our lives, and to resist the siren call of nihilism. Using the horrors of Stalinism and Maoism as examples, Peterson said these secular tyrannies were a result of the “death of God” in public life. Douglas Murray seemed to agree on this point, stating that what unified the Communist dictators was their shared lack of belief in any powers above them.
It’s a powerful argument, made even more impactful by the names which back it up – Friedrich Nietzsche, Carl Jung, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn and Fyodor Dostoevsky, who all of whom expressed concern that the nihilistic worldviews emerging in Europe were a result of a declining belief in God. Such nihilism supposedly laid the bedrock for the rise of blood-soaked secular alternatives to religion (such as the race-worshipping of Nazi Germany, or the State-worshipping of the USSR).
Harris attempted to question this link, but his responses sometimes felt dismissive and simplistic. At one point, Harris attempted to dust off the argument, by arguing (correctly) that atheism does not represent a dogmatic ideology, but rather merely a rejection of factual claims about the existence of a God. Whilst this is true, Harris’ objection is unlikely to have satisfied the audience, who were hoping for a deeper discussion on the consequences of such negation on the psychology of human beings.
Harris was stronger however when he engaged in a discussion of secular alternatives to religious doctrine. In direct response to Murray’s “no powers above them” argument outlined above, Harris illustrated an alternative to this belief: everyone, even powerful leaders, rely on others for their survival. This idea is clearly true, and serves the same limiting function on the power of political leaders as a belief in the moral judgements of an omniscient God. In Harris’ worldview, society replaces God and reason replaces faith. He went further, arguing that philosophical schools such as Stoicism (famously propounded by Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, amongst others) contain as much wisdom as theology, without claims of divine “revelation”.
Harris rejects the unnecessary exaltation of certain texts over others, based solely on claims of divine origin. Why should certain religious ideas be given precedence over other philosophical alternatives? Peterson provided a thought-provoking response: world religions deserve priority, due to the institutions built up around them and the masses of believers inspired to create great cultural works of art, literature and architecture. In short, it is the popularity of religion, which Peterson attributes to the power of myth and storytelling to convey psychological and metaphysical truths, which gives it the power to endow society with collective meaning.
The power of myth as a great spiritual motivator for mankind was a running theme of the discussion, and generated interesting areas of agreement and disagreement. Harris accepted Peterson’s point on the power of myths and stories to convey truth, however denied the necessity of literal belief to realize such benefits. His referencing of Greek mythology was apt, as many in the West today still draw inspiration and wisdom from the exploits of this ancient Pantheon, despite them being “dead” in a quite literal sense. Does our modern reluctance to worship Zeus make Greek myth any less valuable? Perhaps, or perhaps it does the exact opposite: allowing us to imbibe ancient wisdom without the dangerous possilbities of ritual sacrifice.
Harris also articulated his belief in the power of rational discourse to generate a similar magnitude of human motivation, which Peterson was sceptical of. He argued that to kill the idea of God entirely is to subject all of life to mere rational calculation, inevitably leading to nihilism. This is a real concern, but we must also compare this potential for nihilism to fester within secular culture, with the very real threat of religious fervour and theological conflict.
Whether the right balance between religious dogmatism and secular nihilism will ever emerge is an important question, as is the exact shape this will take. Will it be a moderate believer who hedges their faith with doses of rational thought, or a non-believer who internalizes the wisdom of myths and legends without succumbing to literal belief? Peterson may deny the latter case, claiming some minimal level of religiosity is necessary to experience spiritual motivation. But what does Peterson mean by religiosity? Literal belief in God, or the acceptance of the wisdom of religious tradition? Must one believe in God to find meaning in life? And if this is true, from an atheistic viewpoint, do human beings need to lie to ourselves to remain sane in a godless Universe?
Harris’ argument was also not without faults. He could have done much more to engage in a “meaning based conversation” which appeased Peterson’s fans, for instance by elaborating on the role of stories and artistic symbolism in secular life. Clearly, Peterson’s focus on the value of a religious worldview is striking a chord with his audience, and so this argument deserves to be contended with by the wider atheist community.
This partial misfiring is no doubt a result of the pair’s different focusses and ways of thinking. You need only look at the final question posed by Murray to understand their key difference: “What is your greatest Hate?” To this, Peterson answered with deep feeling – he hates the part of himself which would have been content as an Auschwitz prison guard. That kernel of unredeemed evil within him, within all of us, to which religion may be the only answer. Harris, calm and logical, answered that what he hated most was the unnecessary suffering caused by people being captivated by bad ideas – for that which ruins the experience of consciousness in the present, ruins the only chance we all have to live well. The way forward for Harris, perhaps the only way, is through reason and love.
This brought the evening to a close. The result was a detailed and fascinating discussion without a firm conclusion. Neither thinker particularly ‘won’ this ‘war of ideas’, which was never a reasonable prospect to begin with. In the end, the framing of the debate didn’t quite suit the tone – which felt far more collaborative than confrontational (definitely a good thing). If the evening had turned into yet another partisan shouting match, it is likely that the audience would have been severely disappointed. If we had wanted that, why not just stay at home and watch the news?
And with that, this strange new form of Woodstock wrapped itself up – a deep two-hour dialogue between Rockstar public intellectuals, without even the need for a closing song by Justin Bieber! We must thank Zeus for the smaller mercies.