The Evil of Banality

Philistinism as the curse of our society.

The recent upheavals in Poland, with farmers blocking the transit of Ukrainian grain, and the West's hesitant stance towards fully backing Ukraine against Russian aggression, though seemingly share no direct connection, yet, upon closer examination, reveal a common thread and underscore a profound malaise within contemporary Western society. At the heart of these disparate events lies a shared root: a deep-seated philistinism that prioritizes mundane concerns and personal comfort over transcendent aspirations. Western societies, it seems, have drifted away from any higher purpose, instead becoming mired in the banality of everyday life.

The reaction of Polish farmers is a striking example of this mindset. Their focus appears to be narrowly confined to their immediate needs, seemingly oblivious to the existential and civilizational battle that Ukraine is courageously waging - a struggle that Poland, alongside the rest of Europe, may soon find itself drawn into. Considering the immense sacrifices and suffering endured by Ukrainians, the minor economic inconvenience faced by Polish farmers due to the influx of Ukrainian grain into Europe ought to be viewed as a trivial sacrifice, easily justified in the context of a greater moral and collective duty. Yet, it seems that Polish society, and by extension, broader European society, has yet to fully comprehend the significance of the challenge it faces. This struggle transcends ordinary concerns, demanding a recognition and response that rises beyond the confines of daily life.

Moreover, the reluctance of Western nations to provoke Russia, for fear of "nuclear escalation," mirrors the hysteria that gripped these societies during the Covid-19 pandemic. Both reactions are symptomatic of a deeper neurosis, revealing a collective psyche that is fundamentally risk-averse. This aversion to risk has become pathological, permeating every facet of Western institutions, particularly academia, where a preference for bland, timid, and risk-averse managerial types has become the norm, who eschew boldness preferring instead overbearing caution that stifles action and courage.

This mindset was starkly evident in the response to Covid-19, a virus that, despite some of its exotic symptoms, was not significantly more lethal than the flu. Yet, the reaction was one of disproportionate fear, leading to sweeping restrictions on daily life. This same fear now paralyzes the West in the face of Russian aggression, manifesting as a neurotic dread of escalation that precludes any decisive action. Such attitudes are indicative of a civilization in decline, where the preservation of life at any cost has supplanted the pursuit of glory and achievement. Security and predictability have become the supreme values, sidelining the once-cherished virtues of bravery, conquest, and exploration.

Contrary to the widely held belief that placing supreme value on human life and striving to preserve it at all costs represents the pinnacle of civilization and the hallmark of a civilized society, in reality such an attitude reflects an underlying decadence. The relentless pursuit to safeguard human life, regardless of its quality, at its core exposes a deep-seated neurosis and an absence of loftier goals. When individuals or society as a whole lack any transcendent objectives or higher purposes, the mere continuation of life becomes their sole reason for existence, with neurotic avoidance even of the slightest, purely theoretical risks that can endanger their comfort becoming the behavioral norm. And this obviously reflects itself in policy decisions too.

The Cuban Missile Crisis of the 1960s offers a compelling illustration of this timid approach. Back then, American intelligence had thoroughly assessed the nuclear capabilities of the Soviet Union, concluding that in the event of a nuclear confrontation, the United States would emerge victorious, while the Soviet Union faced certain devastation. In essence, the Soviet nuclear threat was not as formidable as it appeared. However, when President John F. Kennedy queried his military advisors about the absolute certainty of preventing a nuclear strike on any American city, they admitted that while the likelihood was minimal — given the U.S.'s ability to intercept Soviet nuclear missiles — they could not offer a 100% guarantee of safety for every city.

This inability to ensure complete protection was sufficient for Kennedy to opt against escalation. In earlier epochs of Western Civilization, marked by more audacious figures, such a scenario might have been seized upon; the chance to decisively destroy an adversary with only a minimal risk of domestic repercussion would have been considered a great deal. Yet, the decision made by the U.S. administration reflected the more cautious, risk-averse temperament of our modern times, reminiscent of the same cautiousness and neuroticism seen in the response to the Covid pandemic decades later. The commitment to preserving human life at any cost was prioritized, even at the expense of eliminating a formidable foe. This choice, like the Covid response and the current paralyzing fear of low probability “nuclear escalation” underscores a broader shift in Western society towards valuing safety and preservation above all, highlighting a profound transformation in societal values and risk tolerance.

The West's preoccupation with "security" exemplifies this misguided approach. Especially now, within the context of the Russian invasion of Ukraine the phrases like “international security”, “security architecture” etc., have become commonplace. Instead of striving for victory, conquest and dominance, Western discourse is fixated on achieving a nebulous sense of security, a goal that ultimately leads to stagnation and vulnerability. Our true objective should not be mere comfort and safety, but the achievement of greatness and the defeat of those who threaten our civilization. This requires a radical shift in perspective, from a defensive posture to one of aggressive ambition. We must be prepared, both psychologically and materially, for the realities of conflict, embracing the inevitability of confrontation as a necessary precondition for triumph.

Contrary to the narratives especially propounded by contemporary left-wing thinkers, throughout history, for the most part, the primary motivator of human action was not the quest for comfort and prosperity. Instead, history shows us that the desire to dominate, what Nietzsche termed the "will to power," has been a far more potent driver of human behavior. This insight sheds light on the West's consistent misreading of Russian society and its underestimation of the resilience and motivations of the Russian people. Economic sanctions, aimed at curbing Russia's aggressive ambitions, have failed to demoralize its populace or deter its government. Western policymakers have overlooked the fact that Russians, unlike their Western counterparts, are still driven by a primal will to power, which, as we can see, confers upon them a formidable resilience in the face of adversity.

This divergence underscores a fundamental weakness in modern Western society: a loss of the will to power and a denigration of the natural human drive to conquer and prevail. In the place of the restless drive to conquer and dominate that had characterized the West from time immemorial, a mindset that pathologizes ambition and confrontation has emerged, leading, among other things, to a strategy of appeasement rather than victory in international relations. It was assumed, for instance, that if Russians are bound by trade agreements with the West that ensure their material well-being, they won't be inclined to break them and go against the West. However, this approach, based on the flawed assumption that all humans are rational actors motivated by material gain, has proven ineffectual in dealing with adversaries like Russians who are driven by deeper, more visceral impulses like ressentiment, revenge and the will to dominate.

After the Second World War, the animating spirit of the West has become prosperity. In a sense, European society has been re-arranged based on this paradigm that elevates individual fulfilment and comfort to the highest virtues. Prosperity and comfort, while desirable, in the long term cannot serve as the foundational pillars of a society, however. They ought to serve as means to higher goals, enabling us to pursue achievements that transcend individual well-being. This includes the defeat and subjugation of our adversaries, a task that demands not only material resources but also a cultural and psychological readiness to engage in conflict. Scientists and engineers, for example, need comfort not for comfort’s sake but to produce high quality weapons that can inflict maximum damage on our enemies and keep us safe from retaliation.

Since my teenage years I have always been naturally repulsed by philistinism and petty bourgeois sentiments. The counterargument to my attitude was that precisely such individuals ensure the material well-being and progress in society. Which is fair enough. After all, if the world had consisted mostly of strivers and adventurers, the civilization could not persist for long. However, as history shows, oftentimes the philistines, with their mundaneness, timidity, and banality, have been the main culprits of human suffering and civilizational collapse. And we are witnessing this currently with the war in Ukraine. It’s primarily because of the philistine timidity permeating our societies, which precludes providing Ukraine with all the weapons it needs and confronting Russia decisively out of neurotic fear of “escalation”, that Ukrainians continue to suffer.     

The West must reassess its values and priorities. We need to rediscover our will to power and embrace a more confrontational stance towards those who seek to undermine us. In a sense, we must become “cultured barbarians” who will embrace a confrontational attitude, the Nietzschean “will to power”, based on logic and a clear understanding of our interests. Only then can we reclaim the initiative and assert our dominance on the world stage. The challenges we face require us to move beyond a passive, risk-averse, philistine mentality and to re-embrace the virtues of courage, ambition, and conquest.

Russia is currently even weaker than the Soviet Union, which the West could have easily obliterated in the 60s had its leaders possessed the courage. Its infrastructure is in shambles. Moreover, given how Russians generally do things and their low work ethic, it’s highly questionable that Russia has any functioning nuclear missiles at all. The likelihood of the West suffering from a nuclear strike is thus essentially as low as that of a young, non-obese person dying from Covid.  

But eventually, even if push comes to shove and the end result is a nuclear war, then so be it. Instead of fearing it, instead of trying to eschew it, we should be preparing for it and finding ways how to prevail over our enemies. Preparing for this war both technologically – i.e., building more and better nuclear missiles, preparing bunkers, and developing more advanced technologies that could reliably intercept enemy missiles etc., and, more importantly, with our attitudes towards life. We must rethink and change our priorities. The presumptive "peace" and "prosperity" are moot and are totally not worth it, if the price is sinking so low morally, as to allow the Evil to get its way. As we can see, banality and mundaneness are the primary enablers of Evil. We cannot consign ourselves to a life of perpetual fear, allowing our enemies to get by with their crimes and keep us forever in suspense. There comes a moment when catharsis and deliverance become the ultimate panacea. And this moment is now.

Putin once quipped that they don't need a world in which Russia doesn't exist. The right attitude however is a rephrase of that sentence: A world in which Russia exists and gets its way is not worth living!