> But believing that would make me feel uncomfortable and threatened, like maybe I don't understand the world as perfectly as I thought I did. Can't we find someone with high credentials to tell us that it's all bunk so that we don't have to actually read his ideas?
Do you really believe that no people exist who have read his ideas, thought deeply about it, and still rejected it?
I remember clearly thinking through his point about the American Revolution, thinking through things his way, realizing there were things I didn't know and that he knew, and considering the situation. I still came to the conclusion that he was wrong.
No, I think I did exactly the same thing you did. In fact, I went in eager to read what he had to say, and ended up tapping out after the prose became too insufferable. I'm just saying I wish more people would do what you did. Read it, or at least try to read it, or at the very least try to get a good faith understanding of the ideas _in terms the author would agree with_.
The default mode, and I think we are all guilty of this from time to time, is to hear somebody beating the war drum, and then go look for a snarky, middle-brow dismissal. It just bothers me that we all seem to be so profoundly uninterested in the actual ideas themselves. This disqualification by personality stuff is so exhausting, and it annoys me that we're all so sure we're right.
Well, okay, but do you really believe that someone who writes so terribly is also writing with "erudition, scholarship and analytical ability"?
(I'm with you, to be clear; I didn't make it much farther than that because I figured that anyone who leads with such a poor argument, that can be debunked by thinking about it instead of getting drawn into the artificial mystique of how cool it is to read forbidden thoughts, can't possibly have very many more interesting thoughts deeper in.)
do you really believe that someone who writes so terribly is also writing with "erudition, scholarship and analytical ability"?
I recently reread his "Open Letter to Open-Minded Progressives"[1]. When it came out in 2008, I thought it was brilliant. Rereading it now, I find it both brilliant and prescient. Here for example he casually predicts the strategy used by our current president:
Fourth, there is another way to succeed in the Outer Party. This might be called the Huckabee Plan. On the Huckabee Plan, you succeed by being as stupid as possible. Not only does this attract a surprising number of voters, who may be just as stupid or even stupider—the Outer Party’s base is not exactly the cream of the crop—it also attracts the attention of the Cathedral, whose favorite sport is to promote the worst plausible Outer Party candidates. As usual with the Cathedral, this is a consequence of casual snobbery rather than malignant conspiracy, but it is effective nonetheless. It is always fun to write a human-interest story about a really wacky peasant, especially one who happens to be running for President.
Yes, his writing is verbose and pretentious. No, you probably shouldn't trust any of the conclusions he reaches. If you have any sense, you should publicly disclaim any familiarity with him or his works. But with all seriousness, I (having no such sense) would claim that he has written the most incisive political analysis published yet this century. Ignore him at your peril.
Are you familiar with the standard joke about the engineer and the guillotine? The basis is "if the guillotine fails, you go free". In the joke, several more practical people of other professions are put under the broken guillotine, nothing happens, and they are set free. The engineer is positioned underneath, sees the issue from his new vantage point, and can't help but crying out "Wait, wait, I think I see the problem!"
Look at the level of hatred directed against Curtis in just this thread. Then realize that HN is one of the more measured and rational parts of the internet. Realize that the mostly unspoken landscape of the blog post is that he's leaving the company of his dreams so it won't be doomed by his presence. Professionally, he and his ideas are simply too hazardous to touch. If you even come close, you will be treated as contaminated. Even disavowal will leave you suspect --- ignorance is a better strategy.
I exaggerate for effect, but only slightly. If you need deeper explanation, you could try Venkatesh Rao's series on the "Gervais Principle" for some parallel examples of the role of strategic ignorance in business communication: https://www.ribbonfarm.com/the-gervais-principle/.
Moldbug is awfully self-important and seems to get a kick of being dramatic, but he spends much more time quoting from (numerous, in true scholarly manner) primary sources and setting up dry arguments than he does saying silly things like "the awful sodium core" of the "red pill".
(As an aside: I said "analytical ability well beyond trivia". It's not that high a bar.)
You can read a political author for what seems to be his overt case or for what are his underlying ideas.
There's an impressive (and really novel at the time) case in favor of capitalism hiding in plain sight in the first book of Marx's Communist manifesto. Those who deprive themselves of Marxist theory for the moral catastrophe of communism miss out on seeing from the shoulders of tall people. The case for Carlyle is structurally the same.
Just wondering, cause I've often wondered if there's some interesting argumentation trapped inside a 15,000 word <body> - is Carlyle the go-to source if I want to read about the ideas without the ... rest?
For others interested, I also found that Scott Alexander wrote a tremendous summary and then rebuttal of Neoreactionary theory. An excellent example of steel-manning an argument you disagree with, then taking it apart in ways that its adherents might actually find convincing. (Link: [https://slatestarcodex.com/2013/03/03/reactionary-philosophy...)
Do you really believe that no people exist who have read his ideas, thought deeply about it, and still rejected it?
I remember clearly thinking through his point about the American Revolution, thinking through things his way, realizing there were things I didn't know and that he knew, and considering the situation. I still came to the conclusion that he was wrong.