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Flapper Girls and the Postmodern Revolution

October 22, 2003

Hello everyone,

Two issues ago in Sociology and the Emerging Social Consciousness we looked at sociology in the context of American history. You may remember that we mentioned two prevalent theories of the time: social Darwinism followed by reform Darwinism. We noted that social Darwinism was first introduced in Britain by Herbert Spencer and that it was imported into America by William Graham Sumner, a political economy professor at Yale University. This philosophy used Darwin’s theory of natural selection, commonly known as “survival of the fittest,” to justify the gross expansion of big business. In effect, social Darwinism said that the rich are rich because they are the fittest: things are exactly as they ought to be. The United States government apparently agreed with this philosophy, for they were content to practice laissez-faire politics, letting big business tend to their own affairs. We also pointed out that Carnegie gave a little finer face to the wealthy monopolizing both resources and government with his talk of the “Gospel of Wealth,” which saw the wealthy as being divinely appointed purveyors of resources to the poor. Whatever we are to make of the “Gospel of Wealth” notion, social Darwinism is clearly a Godless philosophy designed only to defend the status quo.

When it became evident that something needed to be done to curb the abuses of capitalism, we noted that reform Darwinism replaced social Darwinism, insisting that while we were indeed products of natural selection we were nonetheless on an upward progression up the evolutionary ladder. Because of our more refined status, reform Darwinism saw no reason why the intellect should not be called upon to improve its surroundings. Why sit back passively when we have evolved such magnificent tools with which to shape our world? Complementary to this, pragmatism was born, brought into being by the two U.S. philosopher/psychologists, William James (1842–1910) and John Dewey (1859–1952). This idea made an empirical science of efficiency, emphasizing the most conducive means to the most productive ends. These men shaped their new philosophies around the premise that “there were no eternal verities and that the real worth of any idea was in its consequences” (The American Promise, 735).

At the conclusion of the newsletter, these views were funneled into a brief glance at the new hyper-tolerance of today that insists on the celebration of differences in its amended definition of tolerance, a notion dubbed “the new social consciousness.” This sentence is particularly worthy of comment: “To my mind, this new “social consciousness” is merely the logical outworkings of reform Darwinism—a Godless philosophy designed to correct another Godless philosophy (social Darwinism)—in its attempts to bring about equality and justice for all.” The problem with a comment of this kind is the same problem the newsletter itself admitted from its onset: there is only so much ground that can be covered in a single issue. Life is far too complex, history far too multi-faceted, to be so sedately summarized in such a sweeping passage. There was, of course, truth in that statement. Reform Darwinism sought to defend the common man and make the world a better place. Such notions have continued to emerge as planks primarily in leftist mentality, unfortunately bringing with them their Darwinian underpinnings manifested in the notion that only when tolerance embraces not only the divergent peoples of the world but their moles and warts as well will peace ever be ushered in. Of course, I speak metaphorically, such blemishes referring to undesirable things that others do that we are expected not only to tolerate but to triumph and admire as well. How is this being accomplished? Very effectively through the same means such measures are always accomplished: through education and indoctrination. Start at the university level, teach the teachers who teach the children and in a decade or two you will see that the wheel has been set rolling. That is why it is extremely important to be aware of what it is we are teaching, for what happens today on the university level tomorrow infiltrates our children’s classrooms.

Today we will look at some other perspectives for identifying causal factors leading to the current moral and philosophical climate of our day. We used the tools of historiography in the previous issue and we should mention here that history, like any recounting of facts, requires interpretation. Historiography is essentially “the history of history”—the history of the interpretation of history—and it goes through phases as well. History is always seen through the lens of the present culture and the individual, giving it a different shape and focus just as the different denominations within Christianity provide different emphases of the same faith. I think that British novelist and essayist Aldous Huxley (1894–1963) stated it well in Time Must Have A Stop when he wrote “Facts are ventriloquists’ dummies. Sitting on a wise man’s knee they may be made to utter words of wisdom; elsewhere they say nothing or talk nonsense.”

In philosophy, reform Darwinism would be lumped under a different heading, namely secular humanism. This descriptor is largely self-explanatory, the secular half of the term making clear that no divine element is present, the humanism half placing man squarely at the center as the measure of all things. In fact, secular humanism provides an umbrella under which both social and reform Darwinism can avoid the light of the Son. To the social Darwinists, human potentiality was unlimited, even if only a select few would ever realize its potential. To the reform Darwinists, a broader sense of progress existed in regard to man’s potentiality: we were now purging the race of its defects of character. Freed from the troublesome constraints of an archaic book of ancient scriptures, throwing off all the chains that bind, mankind could now be free to bloom and develop. The future never looked brighter and man now worshipped in “a temple without a roof.” He could reach for the stars, the tower of Babel stretching as high into the heavens as a man’s dreams could fly. Undoubtedly, much of the Enlightenment thought that led to the Industrial Revolution was fueled by secular humanism and its giddy euphoria regarding human potentiality.

There was, however, something that happened on a global scale that temporarily put a damper on this euphoria and this occurrence picks up where the previous issue left off: the years of 1914 to 1918. What was this event? World War I. For all the upward mobility and progress the human race had felt—particularly within the upper echelons of society—little was left to show for it. How could such enthusiasm be wrong? What happened to humanity? Yet by and large America did not experience nearly as much cynicism over the war as did their European allies. There were some in America, however, who were greatly devastated by the War, Andrew Carnegie being among the most disillusioned with his idealistic optimism for world peace. Still, one must tell more of America’s history before we press the issue much further here: history is rarely so straightforward as theorists might like.

American leader Woodrow Wilson was the president of peace, winning his re-election under the slogan “he kept us out of war.” While the War certainly touched other people, prosperous America went on largely as if nothing whatsoever was happening in accordance with the Founding Fathers’ belief that she should mind her own affairs. Even after the War did touch America, she did not fight as long as her embittered European allies and for all the felt losses, an age of prosperity was ushered in, allowing for a new wave of euphoria. During the 1920s, Americans now had more money to spend and more leisure time to spend it in. Mobility was greatly aided by the automobile, the number one industry that shaped the face of America, an industry that fueled other industries. Petroleum stations began to dot the countryside, rubber and glass were in high demand as was steel, better roads were built meaning more jobs, and the mobility afforded by the automobile allowed workers to drive longer distances to and from work. A new freedom was ushered in by Freudian theories, supposing that sexuality needed to be celebrated and brought out into the open and a new woman was born: the flapper girl. She got her name in part because of the penny loafers she wore loose that flapped when she walked. She was daring and risqué. The hemline of her dress kept sneaking up until it reached her knees, she could smoke in public and wear make-up without being seen as “that kind of girl,” and she could visit the speak-easys during the prohibition and drink with the boys without fear of incrimination.

A familiar one-liner of the time lost to our modern ears went something like this: “He knocked on her door with his hat in his hands and she answered it with her hat on her head.” Prior to the 1920s, a young man would court a girl in whom he was interested. He would come over to her house in the afternoon and knock on her parents’ door, since she almost always lived at home, usually with his hat in his hand because it was impolite to wear a hat in the house. He expected that he would be ushered into the parlor if his plan went well and there the two of them would visit together in full knowledge that if her mom and dad were not in the same room, they were at least nearby. When evening rolled around, the young lady would show her suitor to the door and depending on how things went, he might be invited back for another evening of tea and talk. With the mobility of the automobile and the fact that more women were now living on their own outside their parents’ houses, dating became the social protocol. When a man showed up at his belle’s house, she expected to go out with her beau in his automobile. Hence, the old fashioned boy knocks at her door with his hat in his hand while the newly liberated flapper girl greets him with her hat on her head. Let us also dryly note that the advent of the automobile facilitated certain experiments carried out in the name of sexual liberation as well: the couple now had a portable carriage in which they could cavort when reckless passion seized them from prohibition’s cautious grip.

The Harlem Renaissance, appropriately centered in Harlem, New York, saw the “new Negro” and celebrated the high-born black authors and artists, the literary and artistic intellectuals within the African American community, who, while they did not achieve the hoped for national independence of blacks, nonetheless bolstered pride in their race and offered whites new outlets for entertainment and expression. Perhaps the single biggest contribution of this revival was the widespread popularity of jazz, initially a black form of musical expression that blended blues and ragtime into a style of free improvisation. (In fact, most of America’s musical heritage owes it roots to the black community.) Closely on its heels followed square dancing, perfect for the flapper girl, who, while she was still more naïve and innocent than the image she projected, nonetheless was more brazen in a world where she had previously been expected to stay at home. She could swirl her skirt, flash her painted smile, and dazzle with her lacquered lashes, enjoying the attention of a dozen young men, all eager to dance with her.

The flapper girl had other amenities as well: she was the most targeted consumer for capitalism as she often had access to her husband’s pocketbook and/or earned wages herself. In particular, electricity offered her new ways to save time, such as the electric oven, the vacuum cleaner, and (enjoyed by her and the rest of the family) the immensely popular radio that allowed salesmen into the house without ever fearing having the door slammed in their faces. She could listen to soap operas sponsored by the companies who manufactured the detergent she put into her new washing machine, humming while the bubbles frothed about in their own form of merrymaking, pleased they could help the new American woman with her arduous tasks. (For more on flapper girls, see Flappers in the Roaring Twenties.)

Yes, indeed! Life was grand for the American middle class. Not only that, but one could make a paper fortune in the buying and selling of stocks with a minimum of effort. However, like fault lines anticipate the final moment of crisis climaxing in the earthquake’s tremors, cracks below the surface culminated on Black Tuesday, October 29, 1929 (a date I find easy to remember for my birthday happens to fall on the same day), when the New York stock market went belly-side up. Wide-spread panic seized the public as people watched their entire fortune dissolve before their very eyes. The banks either went bankrupt or out of business and the Great Depression of the 1930s was in full force. One must remember that by this time the United States far outflanked the other Industrialized nations in terms of economic export, heightened even more by the weakening wrought on the European powers from the extensive War effort. Therefore, we do well to note that the Great Depression was universal in scale: all civilized countries experienced its effects to greater or lesser degree.

For Europeans especially, the Great Depression came riding on the coattails of the First World War. Where was the triumph of secular humanism now? Where was the new man worshipping in his temple without a roof? Interestingly, at least for America, the Second World War (1939–1945) was to be her climb out of the Depression. We will leave the detailed discussion of history for a later date, but let’s simply say that secular humanism received another crushing blow with the advent of this Second World War. This is the generation that saw several scholars battling out their respective worldviews. C.S. Lewis’ seminal book Mere Christianity hails from this era, first delivered as a series of public broadcasts over the British airwaves to the unsettled Europeans seeking answers to life’s difficulties. His success can be measured in how immensely popular his book continues to remain, influencing countless persons for the grace of God (including this author in large measure). God always has His remnant, and while they may be few and far between they are sufficient to keep the torches burning.

However, C.S. Lewis was not the only person at work during this time. Jean-Paul Sartre (1905–1980) was a French philosopher who transformed elements of 19th century German philosopher Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche’s (1844–1900) philosophy, adopting the term existentialism and infusing it with bleak heroism. Essentially, for Sartre, the world was still devoid of its Maker, for, as Nietzsche said in the previous century “God is dead and it is we who killed Him.” For Sartre, as well as Nietzsche, God was still dead. Unlike the secular humanists, he found no cause for celebration in this revelation, though a small glimmer of hope yet remained for Nietzsche’s Übermensch who had the will to power and could carve out meaning from the barren landscape. In Existentialism is a Humanism, Sartre wrote one of the lines for which he is most famous: “Man is condemned to be free.” Yes, Sartre says in effect, “God is dead. But this does not necessarily mean that we worship in a temple without a roof. Instead, it means that we are condemned to freedom. Every choice we make—including choosing not to choose—has a consequence. It is up to us alone to live with the choices we make.”

In Existentialism: An Introduction, C.S. Wyatt offers two very helpful bulleted lists that cover existentialism in brief. The first list chronicles what existentialism is not, the second what it is:

Existentialism does not support any of the following:

Despite encompassing a staggering range of philosophical, religious, and political ideologies, the underlying concepts of existentialism are simple [this list entails what existentialism does include]:

Existentialism as Sartre and his Western readers envisioned it did not share the same giddy optimism of humanism. It rejected such naïve hopefulness about humanity, for evil was clearly seen as an intrinsic part of the human race. It rejected the notion that progress, science, and reason could create a better world. It rejected nearly everything about humanism except for the shared belief that God was dead and that we created our own destinies. Existentialism, claimed Sartre, is the only thing that makes an otherwise unlivable life livable. Existence itself is absurd, unconnected with any higher reality: “existence precedes essence.” In fact, a whole new genre of theater was introduced that celebrated these tenets, not inappropriately dubbed “The Theatre of the Absurd” by Austrian-born British critic Martin Esslin (1918– ) in which he writes in his book of the same name: “The Theatre of the Absurd strives to express its sense of the senselessness of the human condition and the inadequacy of the rational approach by the open abandonment of rational devices and discursive thought.” Rationality cannot communicate such senselessness; perhaps absurdity in drama can.

Writes Edwin Wilson in the Eighth Edition of The Theater Experience:

After World War II, a new type of theater emerged in Europe and the United States, which the film critic Martin Esslin called theater of the absurd. Although those dramatists whose work falls into this category do not write in identical styles and are not really a “school” of writers, they do have enough in common to be considered together. Esslin took the name for this form of theater from a quotation in The Myth of Sisyphus by the French writer, dramatist, and philosopher Albert Camus (1913–1960). Camus maintained that in the present age we have lost the comfort and security of being able to explain the world by reason and logic: one cannot explain the injustice, inconsistency, and malevolence of today’s world in terms of the moral yardsticks of the past. In The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus says that there is a separation between “man and his life, the actor and his setting,” and that this separation “constitutes the feelings of Absurdity.” (196. The source of Camus’ quotations is: Le Mythe de Sisyphe, Gallimard, Paris, 1942, p. 18.)

Camus is indeed a major league player in the existential ballpark and his essay has become a trademark of existential thought. It takes its inspiration from the Greek myth of Sisyphus, a cruel king in Corinth whose punishment from the gods was to spend eternity rolling a huge boulder up a cliff knowing full well it would only roll back down again . . . and again . . . and again. The meaning of his existence was found in his defiance of his fate: time and again he put his shoulder to his burden, making the most of his senseless existence. This dogged determination (ignoring that it was sanctioned by the gods) is what gave nobility and meaning to Sisyphus and hence its symbolism for existential thought.

What is man? A sophisticated animal with grand dreams and meaningless feelings of love and desire. We live, we eat, we dream grand dreams, and then we die. The only meaning afforded life is to face life like a man, the twin virtues of courage and scorn the best tools existentialism can offer to cope with such an absurd universe, keeping a stiff upper lip and ploughing on ahead with the making of meaning from meaningless its crowning glory. One must admit that this particular viewpoint is by far more realistic and honest than secular humanism, at least as the latter manifests itself by the idealists in our recent history. It acknowledges that there is an evil side to humanity and it does not see much hope knowing that it lives without cause in a world without a Maker. At least there is a point in which it accepts the reality of nature, even if nature is absurd and chaotic. Yet can an existentialist ever be truly consistent in his insistence that life is meaningless? I am reminded of Dr. Francis Schaeffer’s mention in He is There and He is Not Silent of Jean-Luc Godard’s movie Pierrot le Fou in which the characters enter and exit through the windows rather than the doors (p. 6). Why don’t they simply walk through the walls? The fact is, even existentialism has to admit to a degree of rationality in its attempted statement of the irrational: the impossible is still an impossibility.

Previously, we spoke of the new “social consciousness” as being the product of one Godless ideology replacing another, citing social Darwinism and reform Darwinism. We have admitted that this was of limited usefulness and are forced to make the same concession again, though perhaps we are getting closer to nailing it solidly down. There is always so much more that could be said if only space and time allowed it. Whatever the case, we can surely say that Darwin gave voice to a way of conceiving the world that has permanently altered the face of history as we know it today. Existentialism and secular humanism are not dead of course, though a new philosophy has arisen that attempts to synthesize the two. Postmodernism is the melding of the optimism of humanism with the honesty of existentialism. Unlike existentialism, however, it does not see nature, however absurd, as being a concrete reality: it might be, but then again it might not. The only thing we can know is that we perceive things to be real. There might be something else out there; then again there might not be. Like the existentialist, life is largely what you make it yet without the stifling limitations of sheer absurdity. In fact, what has replaced absurdity—a statement of fact—is narrative, an accounting that gives meaning but may or may not be true. The meaning of life consists in the telling of stories, just as cultures around the world invented myths to explain their origins. Knowledge is always couched in words, and words, as the Swiss pioneer in linguistics with the French name Ferdinand de Saussure (1857–1913) points out, are psychological constructs. In fact, we mentioned de Saussure in Ragged Urchins in Gowns of White:

. . . The relation between speech and writing is that of symbolism: the sound that forms the word and the way it looks on the printed page are merely arbitrary conventions. In fact, it was none other than the Swiss linguistic pioneer Ferdinand de Saussure (1857–1913) who spoke of a sign, defining it as consisting jointly of both the signifier and the signified: if I speak of an orange, the printed word on the page and the vocal sound I make to form the word are the signifiers, the picture that the signifier forms in my mind is the signified. However, it is interesting to note that even the signified is merely a psychological construct: if an orange exists in the speaker’s presence, it is only incidental to the arbitrary use of language and its resultant mental conceptions: no such tangible reality need be present to communicate the point. I visualize a concept based on prior experience with a type of fruit I can peel and eat, getting its juice all over my beard and making a terrible mess. I doubt you have an orange next to you right now. How is it then that you can imagine someone with juice in his beard?

If we carry this analogy out further, we will recognize that the way in which we define words is with more words. We define a word—which is an arbitrary convention corresponding to a psychological concept—by the use of more words. Ever looked up an entry in the dictionary? How did it teach you the new word? With old words you already knew, right? Yet if words are arbitrary and knowledge is conveyed by words, how can truth be anything other than narrative? and if it be narrative, how can it be knowable? These are the doubts that riddle the postmodern mindset.

We use words to convey knowledge, yet words are arbitrary and are defined only by other words. And what of the lessons of history? Ah yes, what of the lessons of history? They are printed in words and words are open to interpretation. Not only that, but the victors get to write history so we can not even be sure that the narrative recorded will most closely respond to the larger perceptions of the public. Therefore, right or wrong, true or untrue, the dominant or master narrative always triumphs. Yet because it is only a narrative, it is no more valid or true than any other narrative. Do you see any more finely chiseled resemblances to our hyper-tolerance mentioned previously? It is indeed a process that has been funneled through Darwinism. Perhaps it itself does not embrace Darwinism but it has been built on the backs of men who did. So you see, morality is simply a social construct and hyper-tolerance facilitates the ends of those whose narrative agrees with that of reform Darwinism. My truth, your truth, his truth, her truth: there is no universal truth that is knowable, so why don’t we all just get along and learn to love the diversity of narratives we find in the world around us? Just as we mentioned about ethical subjectivism in That Which Is and the Negation of Nature, without God—without a fixed point of reference—there is nothing concrete to which we can pin truth. There we noted that “Truth is a reflection of God’s character in the same way the image in a mirror is the reflection of the face. In order for the image to exist and have meaning, the face must first exist: the image speaks of the face but is not the face itself.”

In a Sunday school class I attended at the beginning of the year entitled “Transforming Barriers into Bridges,” we looked at a number of different worldviews as well as several styles of Christian apologetics. Loyal guided us through this series drawing on many different sources, Dr. Jerram Barrs of the Francis Schaeffer Institute notably among them. He contrasted Schaeffer’s presuppositional method of Christian apologetics with what he defines as the declarative presuppositional method. We should also mention that the reason we use the term presuppositional apologetics is because everyone starts out with some kind of premise or presupposition—some underlying assumption—and works outward from there. As to the “apologetics” half of the title, if you are unfamiliar with the term and wonder why this newsletter bears it in its subtitle, I will say that it does not involve saying “I’m sorry.” Rather apologetics is a formal term that refers to a rational defense of something, obviously in this case the Christian faith.

Loyal presents the following two models which I will reverse, going from the more familiar to the less familiar. The declarative presuppositional method is one most of you who have grown up in or been around mainstream fundamental Protestant churches should recognize. It is basically the John 3:16 model that presents the plan of salvation and tells him or her of the need for a Savior. Writes Loyal:

Declarative Presuppositional Method:

Schaeffer’s Presuppositional Method:

Some of you are probably feeling a bit bemused by now; to those to whom these words registered, I would tend to doubt your reaction is neutral. The problem I see with either of these models—and Loyal would support me fully on this matter—is that they appear to leave the duty entirely up to the Christian without acknowledging the agency of the Holy Spirit. We cannot save anyone, only Christ can. Yet it has been my experience (as with Loyal and many others) that the second method of evangelism is far more effective in today’s world where hyper-tolerance reigns supreme. If you are a believer concerned with reaching out to others you can and should use whatever method is effective for you, whatever method you feel God has called you toward if method be the right word. (Again it smacks of the idea of being systematized rather than spontaneous and free, the way an authentic faith that flows always is.) Whatever the case, do know that this author most consistently finds the second model to be more effective and such mentality is much of the secret behind these very newsletters. In my case, it was not Schaeffer (or Loyal) who introduced the idea to me, for it seemed to work itself out quite naturally in my own life. However, hearing that others were of a similar mind frame was liberating to me as I trust that it will be to some of you, as you likely would not be reading my writing in the first place if we didn’t share a certain degree of commonality.

Archive note: See also the discussion forum thread regarding this newsletter

Very well. I suppose I have been all over the road today in my discussion: my goodness! Darwinism, flapper girls, secular humanism, existentialism, postmodernism, linguistics, and presuppositional methods of apologetics. So many thoughts, so little time to organize them all. I must confess that it has been a long day and I am feeling very tired. Tomorrow always comes too early in my world and I have much, much to do. So then, maybe we have seen a bit more closely how the modern conception of hyper-tolerance has formed and in the process learned a thing or two about effective styles of evangelism well suited for such a world; then again, perhaps we haven’t. Regardless, I do hope you have enjoyed your read and I pray that your week finds you well and in high spirits. Goodnight!

God bless,
Eric


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