Another Week Ends

Coronation Theology, Grace-Based Liberalism, Ruined Birthday Parties, and Baby Name Righteousness

Bryan J. / 5.5.23

1. First time expecting parents out there — take it from this father of two under four! Naming the baby certainly isn’t the hardest part of having a baby. It shouldn’t be, at least, but over at Vox, Rebecca Jennings delves into “The Baby Name Boom,” and the cottage industry that is growing around choosing a child’s “perfect-but-not-too-popular, original-but-not-too-weird first name.” What first seems like an exercise in (let’s face it) bougie white parenting trends actually has some layers to it. Don’t write it off: it’s a sign of the times that such a commonplace aspect of life has become fertile ground for judgment, pressure, performance, and love:

These days, naming children can feel like an unwinnable game — you could be accused of trend bandwagoning if you name your daughter, say, Harper; you’re called a “tragedeigh” if you go with something truly original; or you’re simply a bore whose child is destined to be one of a billion Liams — hence the baby name consultants who say their DMs and emails are overflowing with requests from confused parents. Taylor A. Humphrey makes a living off of these consults, which she says have numbered in the thousands. “There’s so much anxiety around what used to be a very mundane part of life,” she says. It isn’t just the desire to give children unique names, but also the pressure to please picky family members, friends, and — since we’re all influencers now — the leering public. […]

“Just as capitalism engenders the belief that our value is determined by our productivity, ‘social’ as a business category influences our concept of the self, encouraging us to see self-categorization on platforms not only as self-realization but as a source of capital,” writes Isabel Munson in Real Life. “Our value then is based on effective self-branding.”

The branding thing isn’t especially new in the age of social media — previous generations had their own personal brands based on fashion, or education, or even reputation. The difference here is that social media has expanded our “personal brands” into so many varied aspects of life. Still, to blame it exclusively on the Zuckerbergs of the world feels like a mild cop-out. As much as the desire is, outwardly, to set up a kid for future success in a social media world, the article misses the real impetus behind unique baby names. It’s safe to say that, if we’re paying consultants to help us name our babies, we’ve left the world of good parenting and entered the world of self-justification.

Our Mockingcast trio talk more about this on the next episode, which drops next week.

2. Yours truly had a chance to write about Jonathan Haidt’s continuing data dump earlier this week regarding young people and mental health. Over at the Bulwark, Clare Coffey took Haidt’s research as an opportunity to talk about parenting and technology in an article aptly titled “You Have Permission to Be a Smartphone Skeptic.” Her argument: it doesn’t take a decade’s worth of peer-reviewed social science to see that social media is bad for the development and mental health of kids and teens.

I am fairly certain that the self-restraint and self-discipline required to use a smartphone well — that is, to treat it purely as an occasional tool rather than as a totalizing way of life — are unreasonable things to demand of teenagers. I am fairly certain of this because most of the time, it feels like these are unreasonable things to demand of me, a fully adult woman. To enjoy the conveniences that a smartphone offers, I must struggle against the lure of the permanent scroll, the notification, the urge to fix my eyes on the circle of light and keep them fixed. I must resist the default pseudo-activity the smartphone always calls its user back to, if I want to have any hope of filling the moments of my day with the real activity I believe is actually valuable.

This is not an ideal situation for anyone. But for a child or teen still learning the rudiments of self-control, still learning what is valuable and fulfilling, still learning how to prioritize what is good over the impulse of the moment, it is an absurd bar to be asked to clear — especially considering the work adults do to interfere with development of the exact virtues of attention they apparently expect of the young adults in their care.

I appreciate Coffey’s low anthropology — adults can’t handle the temptations of smartphones well, so why would we expect our yet-to-be-formed adults to handle them well either? She also outlines a number of other logical-not-statistical critiques of smartphones: the ubiquitous assault on healthy body image, the ceaseless and permanent nature of digital teenage angst, the ability to be algorithmically funneled into consumerism or political radicalization. There’s more at stake here than the usual trope of generational divide, and opting out of this burgeoning digital ecosystem is to live, in her view, self-sacrificially:

No one wants to come down on the side of tamping off pleasures and suppressing teen activity. Nobody wants to be the wild-eyed internet warrior claiming some toxin that peer-reviewed studies have yet to identify has irreparably harmed their child. No one wants to be the shrill or leaden antagonist of a thousand beloved movies, inciting moral panics, scheming about how to stop the youths from dancing on Sunday. But commercial pioneers are only just beginning to explore new frontiers in the profit-driven, smartphone-enabled weaponization of our own pleasures against us. To limit your moral imagination to the archetypes of the fun-loving rebel versus the stodgy enforcers in response to this emerging reality is to choose to navigate it with blinders on, to be a useful idiot for the robber barons of online life rather than a challenger to the corrupt order they maintain. It is to substitute the arrested, cringing desire to be cool — and, if not young, youth adjacent — for the basic responsibilities of adult rule. And no one else will take up those responsibilities if we do not, although we will still be ruled all the same.

Her ultimate plea, a call to reflect on what it means to live a good life and thoughtfully rearrange our technologies accordingly, will probably fall on deaf ears. Technological “progress” has a way ot presenting itself as self-evidently good. But it is nevertheless worthwhile to pause and ask how we might leverage the power of affection to pull our attention away from the screens and onto something or someone else. Let me know if you figure it out.

3. Happy 210th birthday Søren Kierkegaard! Earlier this week, Seen and Unseen ran a primer on philosopher and theologian that I found to be helpful and accessible. Come for the plebian-friendly explanation of Kierkegaard’s most important ideas. Stay for the surprising number of very important people who found Kierkegaard meaningful in their quest to change the world:

Kierkegaard’s existential protest against religious nationalism was largely unheeded in his lifetime. Yet in 1944, the world war still raging, US President Franklin D Roosevelt called an aid into his office. “Have you ever read Kierkegaard?” asked FDR. “Well, You ought to read him. It will teach you about the Nazis. Kierkegaard explains the Nazis to me as nothing else ever has. I have never been able to make out why people who are obviously human beings could behave like that Kierkegaard gives you an understanding of what is in man that makes it possible for these Germans to be so evil.”

In 1959, Martin Luther King Jr. was invited to write about his path to peaceful and lasting social change. In “Pilgrimage to NonViolence” he wrote about discovering the philosophy of Kierkegaard: “Its perception of the anxiety and conflict produced in man’s personal and social life […] is especially meaningful for our time.”

In 1965 a young African-American man, barred from using his main library due to racist nationalism, gets his reading from a different source: “In reading Kierkegaard from the Bookmobile … here was someone who was seriously wrestling with this terror, this suffering and this sorrow. It resonated deeply with me.” Cornel West would go on to study philosophy, eventually becoming a leading public intellectual and activists for racial justice.

To this list of Kierkegaardians we can also add Ludwig Wittgenstein, TS Eliot, Jean Paul Sartre, Dorothy Sayers, Flannery O’Connor, and Hannah Ardent, to name but a few. Surely the Inkling, author and publisher Charles Williams was correct when he wrote of Kierkegaard in 1939: “His sayings will be so moderated in our minds that they will soon become not his sayings, but ours.” If you value authenticity, if you mistrust the herd instinct of crowds, if you have had an existential crisis, if you or someone you know has ever taken “a leap of faith” then you are living and thinking with words and along lines laid down by Søren Kierkegaard, whether you know it or not.

4. Last week, while we were in conference mode, Tara Isabella Burton sat down with Radiolab to talk about religion, self-help, technology, and the 19th century New Thought movement. Her segment begins at 56:11.

5.I Ruined Two Birthday Parties and Learned the Limits of Psychology.” That’s the headline introducing readers to Adam Mastroianni’s quest to find joy and connection through the recommendations of social science. At a 2018 conference, Mastroianni had some free time, and decided to put new research to the test: according to some experiments, talking to strangers can be a delightful and uplifting experience. In search of delight and uplift, Mastroianni signed up to tag along in a pair of local escape rooms, joining in as a “third wheel” with groups who had signed up already. Spoiler alert: his mere presence seemed to ruin the experience for everyone. Reflecting on his delightfully awkward experience, which feels like it was written as a bit for a reboot of The Office, Mastroianni realized something unspeakable about his own field of expertise:

Applying our story sense to psychology works because psychology is stories. Each study reports what a certain group of people did in a certain time and place — that is, it sets a scene, fills it with characters, and puts them in motion. The stories can be simple (“People who said they felt depressed also said they had trouble sleeping”), or they can be complicated (“We offered people a banana to go talk to strangers on a train, and they reported having a better time than they expected”). We use statistics to show that our stories are credible, but a little bit of math doesn’t change what’s underneath. […]

A story sense can sometimes be misleading, though, as psychologists have shown in many different ways. For instance, people tend to assume that easily imagined events (such as dying in a terrorist attack) are more common than events that are hard to picture (such as dying from falling out of bed). Learning how to apply the findings of psychology research is not like learning long division or computer programming; there isn’t a handbook, and nobody can tell you when you’re doing it wrong. You pick it up slowly, painfully, through trial and error, when you see the crestfallen faces of the people whose birthdays you’ve ruined. No amount of expertise can speed up that process, which is why psychologists can study happiness and marriage all we want and yet some of us still end up depressed and divorced.

But here’s one finding you should take literally: Don’t sign up to do escape rooms with strangers.

Mastroianni’s wisdom regarding the application of psychology could just as readily be attributed to the application of theology. It’s not something the Christian learns like long division (though I guess we do have a handbook!). We, too, pick it up slowly, painfully, through trial and error, through the crestfallen faces of the people we’ve wronged. Lord knows a lot of bad theology has ruined more than a birthday party.

6. Anglophiles — rejoice! It’s Coronation weekend, when the UK’s King Charles III will be formally anointed and crowned for his new position. Even non-Anglophiles may find the spiritual dimension of the weekend interesting. Despite the political overtones and the ecumenical acknowledgments, the coronation is, first and foremost, a church service, with Bible readings, a homily, and Holy Communion. For a glimpse into the theology of the service, here are the words said to the King at the presentation of the Bible, added to the service when protestant monarchs King William III and Queen Mary II were coronated in 1688.

Sir: to keep you ever mindful of the law
and the Gospel of God as the Rule
for the whole life and government of
Christian Princes,
receive this Book, the most valuable
thing that this world affords.
Here is Wisdom;
This is the royal Law;
These are the lively Oracles of God.

I mean, come on. For anyone with a passing interest in global Christianity, law and gospel theology, Protestantism, or church history, this stuff is so cool. It almost makes this American want to slap disestablishmentarian Thomas Jefferson in the face. Almost … Anyway, here are a few coronation links for those who want to learn more:

7. In humor this week, the Reductress takes no prisoners with “Woman Attempting to Change Own Music Taste by Force.” See also: “Man Cancels Gym Membership He Never Uses to Subscribe to Fitness App He’ll Never Open” and “These Are the Shoes That Will Solve Everything.”

But the big news in humor this week is new standup from “formerly likeable” John Mulaney. In his new Netflix special, the comic opens up about his recent intervention, his stay in rehab, some of the insanity that manifested from his addiction, and the loss of his well regarded reputation. “Likeability is a jail” he intones with vaudevillian sing-song, to cheers from a sympathetic crowd. I refer you, again, to the above Kierkegaard piece for more insight on the dangers of inauthenticity.

8. David Brooks has a new essay in the Atlantic: it’s philosophical, political, and to those with ears to hear, his essay is quite theological too. Much of the article is dedicated to Canada’s legalization of physician assisted suicide, and Brooks spends a good deal of time offering serious ethical critiques of the practice.

But behind assisted suicide laws is a deeper political philosophy, which Brooks calls “autonomy-based [classical] liberalism,” rooted in the core belief that “I possess myself.” It’s a hyper-individualistic vision of personal choice that extends to everything, even the choice to end one’s life. Brooks offers readers a second version of classical liberal political philosophy: gifts-based liberalism, which he explains like this:

Gifts-based liberals, like autonomy-based liberals, savor individual choice — but our individual choices take place within the framework of the gifts we have received, and the responsibilities to others that those gifts entail … In our lives, we are citizens and family members, not just individuals and property owners. We have obligations to our neighbors as well as to those who will come after us. Many of those obligations turn out to be the sources of our greatest joy. A healthy society builds arrangements and passes laws that make it easier to fulfill the obligations that come with our gifts. A diseased society passes laws that make it easier to abandon them.

He goes on to list four truths about life that challenge the core tenants of autonomy-based liberalism, which form the root of gifts-based liberalism:

You didn’t create your life. From the moment of your birth, life was given to you, not earned. You came out bursting with the gift of being alive. As you aged, your community taught you to celebrate the prodigality of life—the birds in their thousands of varieties, the deliciousness of the different cheeses, the delightful miracle of each human face. Something within us makes us desperately yearn for longer life for our friends and loved ones, because life itself is an intrinsic good. […]

You didn’t create your dignity. No insignificant person has ever been born, and no insignificant day has ever been lived. Each of us has infinite dignity, merely by being alive. We can do nothing to add to that basic dignity. Getting into Harvard doesn’t make you more important than others, nor does earning billions of dollars. At the level of our intrinsic dignity, all humans are radically equal. The equal dignity of all life is, for instance, the pillar of the civil-rights movement. […]

You don’t control your mind ... Gifts-based liberals know that no purely rational thinker has ever existed. They know that no one has ever really thought for themselves. The very language you think with was handed down as a gift from those who came before. We are each nodes in a network through which information flows and is refracted. The information that is stored in our genes comes from eons ago; the information that we call religion and civilization comes from thousands of years ago; the information that we call culture comes from distant generations; the information that we call education or family background comes from decades ago. All of it flows through us in deep rivers that are partly conscious and partly unconscious, forming our assumptions and shaping our choices in ways that we, as individuals, often can’t fathom. […]

You did not create your deepest bonds. Liberal institutions are healthiest when they are built on arrangements that precede choice. You didn’t choose the family you were born into, the ethnic heritage you were born into, the culture you were born into, the nation you were born into. As you age, you have more choices over how you engage with these things, and many people forge chosen families to supplant their biological ones. But you never fully escape the way these unchosen bonds have formed you, and you remain defined through life by the obligations they impose upon you.

Autonomy-based liberals see society as a series of social contracts — arrangements people make for their mutual benefit. But a mother’s love for her infant daughter is not a contract. Gifts-based liberals see society as resting on a bedrock of covenants. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks once captured the difference this way: “A contract is a transaction. A covenant is a relationship. Or to put it slightly differently: a contract is about interests. A covenant is about identity. It is about you and me coming together to form an ‘us.’ ” […]

Although Brooks’ essay is linguistically secular, it’s not hard to see the Christian spiritual overtones undergirding his vision. Heck, it’s probably not lost on Brooks that the “gift” part of his “Gift-based liberalism” is the same word the Greek New Testament uses for “grace.” Life is unearned, a gift, a legacy of the sacrifices of those who loved us before we could love them back. We are creatures prone to frailty, poor decision making, and motivated by the subconscious. And yet, we are nonetheless loved, declared special, and granted particular set of dignities and rights. This is, all together, the starting point for Brooks’ wider political philosophy, and it’s rooted in a properly low anthropology and humility. If you’ve ever wondered what a political theory rooted in grace might look like, this is a good start.

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  1. […] (presumably) picking up on last week’s Vox article on baby names, there’s “Kid At Baseball Game Unsure Whether Fans Are […]

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