The Spell of Plato (1966)

Sir Karl Raimund Popper
The Open Society and Its Enemies, Vol. 1
Note 4 to Chapter 7

Other remarks of Plato’s on the paradoxes of freedom and of democracy are: Republic, 564a: ‘Then too much freedom is liable to change into nothing else but too much slavery, in the individual as well as in the state .. Hence it is reasonable to assume that tyranny is enthroned by no other form of government than by democracy. Out of what I believe is the greatest possible excess of freedom springs what is the hardest and most savage form of slavery.’

The so-called paradox of freedom is the argument that freedom in the sense of absence of any restraining control must lead to very great restraint, since it makes the bully free to enslave the meek. This idea is, in a slightly different form, and with a very different tendency, clearly expressed by Plato.

Less well known is the paradox of tolerance: Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them.

In this formulation, I do not imply, for instance, that we should always suppress the utterance of intolerant philosophies; as long as we can counter them by rational argument and keep them in check by public opinion, suppression would certainly be most unwise. But we should claim the right to suppress them if necessary even by force; for it may easily turn out that they are not prepared to meet us on the level of rational argument, but begin by denouncing all argument; they may forbid their followers to listen to rational argument, because it is deceptive, and teach them to answer arguments by the use of their fists or pistols. We should therefore claim, in the name of tolerance, the right not to tolerate the intolerant. We should claim that any movement preaching intolerance places itself outside the law. and we should consider incitement to intolerance and persecution as criminal, in the same way as we should consider incitement to murder, or to kidnapping, or to the revival of the slave trade, as criminal.

Another of the less well-known paradoxes is the paradox of democracy, or more precisely, of majority-rule; i.e. the possibility that the majority may decide that a tyrant should rule. That Plato’s criticism of democracy can be interpreted in the way sketched here, and that the principle of majority-rule may lead to self-contradictions, was first suggested, as far as I know, by Leonard Nelson (cp. note 25 (2) to this chapter). I do not think, however, that Nelson, who, in spite of his passionate humanitarianism and his ardent fight for freedom, adopted much of Plato’s political theory, and especially Plato’s Principle of leadership, was aware of the fact that analogous arguments can be raised against all the different particular forms of the theory of sovereignty.

All these paradoxes can easily be avoided if we frame our political demands the way suggested in section II of this chapter, or perhaps in some such as this. We demand a government that rules according to the principles of equalitarianism and protectionism; that tolerates all who are prepared to reciprocate, i.e. who are tolerant; that is controlled by, and accountable to, the public. And we may add that some form of majority vote, together with institutions for keeping the public well informed, is the best, though not infallible, means of controlling such a government. (No infallible means exist.)

Herland (1915)

Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Chapter 7: Our Growing Modesty

A motherliness which dominated society, which influenced every art and industry, which absolutely protected all childhood, and gave to it the most perfect care and training, did not seem motherly - to Terry.

I hated to admit to myself how much Terry had sunk in my esteem. Jeff felt it too, I am sure; but neither of us admitted it to the other. At home we had measured him with other men, and, though we knew his failings, he was by no means an unusual type. We knew his virtues too, and they had always seemed more prominent than the faults. Measured among women - our women at home, I mean - he had always stood high.

But here, against the calm wisdom and quiet restrained humour of these women, with only blessed Jeff and my inconspicuous self to compare with, Terry did stand out rather strong.

“But does not each mother want her own child to bear her name?” I asked.
”No - why should she? The child has its own.”

Here, as in so many other instances, we were led to feel the difference between the purely maternal and the paternal attitude of mind. The element of personal pride seemed strangely lacking.

The Aesthetics of Witnessing: A Conversation with Alfredo Jaar (2005)

Interviewed by Patricia C. Phillips

Jaar

I think that music is honest. When you listen to music, every- thing is on the table. You recognise the instruments, the tempo, the rhythm; the structure of a musical piece is transparent. Even if you do not fully understand the meaning of the lyrics, music communicates in a very compelling and undeniable way.

I wanted to show as little as possible while expressing as much as I could. We filmed twenty hours and reduced it to thirty-three minutes. I wanted to do a short visual poem and was thinking of the poetry of Giuseppe Ungaretti, who expresses so much with two or three words in a poem. I wondered if this was possible to achieve with a film.

Because I want to communicate something very specific with each piece, I've used a lot of text in one fashion or another.

In a movie theatre, a spectator arrives mentally pre- pared to spend time with the film, sits in a comfortable chair, and there is one focal point of attention that attracts all the senses. The kind of attention that film commands is extraordinary, and I have always envied this power that filmmakers have to communicate with an audience.

I was always fascinated by the different ideological agendas of newspapers and magazines—to discover the subtle or more obvious differences between different reports about a same event.

I wanted to construct bridges to link the almost fictitious reality of the art world with the realities of the real world.

Once I got there, I realised there was nothing equal to the experience of witnessing something rather than reading about it. From this moment on, I decided to be a witness as often as I could.

It is not just a matter of witnessing, but it is about being present and sharing with other people who have left their homes and families to be there. It is about being part of a developing network of support and assistance. You simply react as a human being.

How do we translate this lived experience? I've always thought that we cannot represent this reality. Instead, you create a new reality with the work. Because I have faced and lived a specific reality, seen it with my own eyes, it demands a certain level of responsibility. This is not fiction! So I create little realities for the art world that are based on lived experiences. These experiences have changed me, I am who I am because I have been here and there. And the work is what it is because of where I have been, I cannot think of a better education—not only as an artist, but as a human being. It is an extraordinary challenge for me as an artist to communicate these experiences, I think this is why each project looks so different, I don't have a particular medium or format. I use different aesthetic strategies based on my response to a particular lived experience.

Regarding this question of ethics, I always cite ]ean-Luc Godard. He said that “it may be true that one has to choose between ethics or aesthetics, but it is no less true that, whichever one chooses, one will always find the other one at the end of the road. For the very definition of the human condition should be in the mise-en- scene itself.” There is no way to escape ethics. Whatever aesthetic decisions we make about our work, about our strategies of representation, they also reflect an ethical position. Accepting this, I think it is important to confront this unavoidable choice in the work from the beginning, as part of its structure.

Phillips

I often think that music is embodied in a way that images generally are not. For many people there is a very direct and vivid connection between music, a particular moment, and individual and collective memory.

We live within a reeling and riotous visual culture. Strategically, at one point you began to withhold or withdraw the image in your work.

The idea of bearing witness invokes a kind of gravity and weight that is vividly palpable.