The Ressentiment of Progress

No, I don't like Marvel movies.

Oswald Spengler placed the waning of Western culture and the beginning of its slow end to be around 1800. Everything from then on - art, music, philosophy, religion…everything - would merely repeat its previous forms. This simplifies the philosophical nuance of Spengler’s work. Still, the point stands that according to his cyclic theory of time, we most definitely find ourselves amidst the death rattle of the West. Admittedly there have been countless memes made around this topic, memes that only emphasize the rot and repetition we find ourselves surrounded by. Yet, one trait of all civilizations, especially during their transition into becoming ‘empire’, is their inability to accept conclusions. There is another definition for that which supposedly does not stop, its name is progress.

It may seem odd that Spengler declares the decline of Western culture as beginning around 1800, especially when many would consider that era something notably opposite to decline. The American Revolution (1775-1783), the French Revolution (1789-1799), The Medical Revolution (1796-1885), and throughout though mostly following these, the burgeoning Industrial Revolution, one could then consider the late 1700s onwards to be a matter of revolutions, which is to say, a matter of repetitions. History turns over the dirt and begins again. But where does progress fit into all this?

Once all that messy history stuff was out of the way. All those revolutions and overturnings and workings out, the way had been paved for the glorious, hyper-rational, and quantification-reverent Industrial Revolution to, at least in the sense of values, infiltrate every facet of Western culture. So, post-Enlightenment secular malaise, from the 1800s through to roughly the 1970s the Myth of Progress became the West’s new religion, the West’s new god. Progress is the simplistic belief that things will always get better, bigger, faster, stronger, and more-er. To know we are ‘progressing’ is to wave away complexity and believe that what is now shall always be. Of course, as we know from Spengler, this isn’t so, this simply cannot be.

But why can’t things just keep going cries out modern man? The answer is energy. Civilization is a function of energy, without which, it ends. As it stands, our current Western civilization is built atop the energetic anomaly that is petroleum, a source of energy that is fast being used up. What this means is that for a while progress did happen, that’s undeniable. I’d much prefer a fair amount of modern medicine over ancient methods (though not all of it). The problem is that as a culture we’ve devoted ourselves to the myth of progress to such a degree that we’re unable to detach our lifestyles and, more importantly, our worldviews from the inevitability of decline.

We live in a world that culturally still finds its roots within a historico-energetic anomaly, whilst simultaneously ignoring the empirical reality of that ever-dwindling petroleum wellspring. It’s from this position that the paradox of infinite growth on a finite planet begins to make (false) sense. Culturally we are infinite, empirically and energetically we are finite. Unfortunately for those who kneel to progress, reality always wins. The myth of progress - and therein the worship of the god ‘progress’ - instills a relatively undemanding worldview within its believers, one that can very easily and with little effort be projected into anything and everything.

Firstly, progress as a verb denotes a movement in time, that movement is ever-forward. This seems obvious, but within this movement is the further implication that time, in its representational linearity (we go forward in time by virtue of our consciousness), abides by the myth of progress itself. Progress, then, draws time itself onto its side by attempting to make the movement of time and the movement of its own aims synonymous. Therefore, for those who abide by the myth itself, as times move on, we progress. This in itself is of course an error regarding value judgments. Yet also implicit in this view is that the only ‘time’ that matters is the future, and that anything in the past must be worse by the fact we’ve passed it by. The god of progress discards the past, rushes the present, and awaits a future that, by its very definition, will never arrive. In short, progress becomes a free-floating signifier for waving away any sense of discomfort regarding the road ahead.

Secondly, and following directly from the latter point, progress as a noun denotes a destination to be reached at some point. Yet, the myth of progress is both a verb and a noun all in one, and so the destination is ‘the future’ and the movement towards therefore becomes eternal. Progress is very reminiscent of the sign one used to see in pubs that said ‘Free Beer Tomorrow’. From this destruction of the noun via its infection by the verb conclusion becomes impossible. Progress is understood to be good in itself, and thus to stop progressing is to stop progress altogether. One is either with progress, being wistfully taken into the elusive perfect future, or one is left behind and cast into the language of the past. Anyone and everything that no longer holds the cognitive dissonance to adhere to the falsity of progress becomes archaic, primitive, old-hat, retro, vintage, conservative, reactionary, fascist, ‘behind the times’, obsolete, antiquated, or old-fashioned. Not because of any inherent belief of content or value, but solely because one might adhere to a worldview that finds many of its roots at some point in the past.

So here we come full circle to the fact that the past, as understood by progress as inherently bad for being behind progress, therein begets the worldview that linearity has a meaning and that meaning is upwards, onwards, and better! This brings me to the main thesis of this post which is the ressentiment inherent to progress.

Now, the term ressentiment gets a bad rap, with those critical of modern philosophy quick to state that it’s no different from resentment. I must admit, I am somewhat sympathetic to this point, there’s only so much eye-rolling one can perform at the sound of countless academics throwing overtly-accented French words left and right to sound smart, but in the case of ressentiment a difference does exist. So let’s look at these two terms.

Firstly, plain old resentment. This is something that limits one’s ability to communicate with another due to, as the saying goes, ‘harboring resentment’. That is, plainly speaking, placing a psychological brick wall between you and the object or person who is trying to be understood. Resentment is primarily reactive, and as such is largely a short-lived emotion related to an immediate grievance or annoyance.

Secondly, fancy, new ressentiment. This term gained philosophical popularity via the writings of Friedrich Nietzsche, most notably his work On the Genealogy of Morality. Nietzsche understood that we all have (or don’t have, as the case may be) a ‘will to power’, that is a will that somewhat involves imposing our will on others, but also can be understood as an innate tendency towards growth, expansion, and self-actualization. For Nietzsche, however, most people are too weak to manifest their wills and develop ressentiment. Therein those who have developed ressentiment equally develop morality by way of inverting values such as goodness and strength to match their current, will-to-powerless state. Psychologically and emotionally then, ressentiment is far deeper than resentment for it is not momentarily reactive, but culturally proactive. It seeks a malicious devaluation of power, originality, and authenticity by way of cognitive contortions. The men and women of ressentiment are never happy. Even once their distortions are well underway and eventually woven into society, the ressentiment still remains, and they then find others not to be lacking the new distorted values, but to be lacking the original envy and spite that caused them. Ressentiment men and women never sleep, for there is always that to be dragged down into the grey quagmire of modernity!

One might now be able to see that ressentiment is built into progress for the sake of its own survival. Once one bows down to the god of progress and thereby understands that onwards is better, forward is greater, and time can only ever progress, then the underlying value system for their entire life is complete. What is left, for the born-again worshipper of progress is simply to…wait, for the future is all that matters. This basic value of future = better (therefore) past = bad is the basic axiom of progress that begets its ressentiment. Progress despises the past, ignores the present, and worships the future, and any belief contrary to these positions is attacked by those who kneel at its feet. Let’s look at these three key points - past, present, and future - and see how ressentiment infects them.

The past is that which is gone, it’s gone because if it was bad, and if it wasn’t bad it wouldn’t have gone. So says progress. Practically speaking the ressentiment arises whenever any member of society begins to treat the past as a wellspring of knowledge and experience as opposed to, at best, that which we simply had to get through, or at worst, an error. Someone may opt to handwrite letters, cut grass by hand, wear ‘old fashioned clothing’ (no such thing), go smartphone-free, not watch or own a TV, take up any manner of manual crafts, or, basically, undertake anything in a manner that isn’t contemporaneous to the last 20 years of cultural discussion. The reaction to such an undertaking will be one of derision, mockery, disbelief (“They must be pretending…”), and possibly even hatred. Such people often become a spectacle, as seen in the cases wherein various individuals decide to live a traditional lifestyle from another era and are dragged out before cameras like a circus show. The attitude towards such lifestyle choices isn’t simply resentment because the content itself never matters, it’s strictly ressentiment for the fact that such choices inherently question the basic presumptions of progress. For progress, nothing else matters but forward movement, and so there is no graver sin than actively going backward. In the land of progress, the equivalent to Giordano Bruno is he who declares that he hasn’t seen the latest Marvel film, doesn’t intend to and, in fact, doesn’t even like them!

The present is that which is now, which, for progress, is merely that before the future. All that one should be doing with the present is that which brings about a greater future, even if we’ve never actually defined what in the world that future is meant to be. Yet, one can cultivate a relationship with the present, as I noted with the past, which is anathema to progress. One can be in it. If progressing is the definition of good, going backward is the definition of bad, then being present is still…pretty bad, I mean, why aren’t you moving forward! Devotees of progress love quantification, it’s their metric of determining how much we’ve progressed (even though we’ve never agreed on any shared values). Being present has little relationship with quantity and yet has a great relationship with quality. Maybe one went for a walk for no reason at all, sat and looked at a meadow, laid on the beach, drew a picture without thought for sale, wrote a story and forgot about it, maybe one did some breathing exercises, or maybe you just did nothing at all and loved it. Being present is, for progress, the equivalent of standing still, and like some tyrannical Heraclitus it seeks to throw us all into the river.

Finally, there is the future. I need not say much about it as it’s mostly been covered earlier. Yet, progress doesn’t even know what the future is. Ask the average person what they want for the future and they’ll throw off some vague lines about healthcare and equality without any recourse to the meaning of these things. “They’ll think of something!” may as well be rephrased “Progress will think of something!” But progress’ relationship with the future is damaging for it can’t leave it alone, for to be left alone is first to be in the present, and then to be in the past, and then you may as well be dead. Even if it works it gets updated. Even if the plot was wrapped up it gets four more seasons. Even if they’re old and haggard they need to release a new album. Even if they’ve nothing to write academics publish. Even if nothing needs to be done we do stuff. Because progress is best, and if you are not progressing, well, you simply are not.

If we cycle this round to the start, back to Spengler’s prediction, we see that the ressentiment of progress has a single direction, and that is declining down the entropic slope of Western culture into the fetid quagmire of mediocrity and repetition. The walls grow ever tighter, the films become the same, the music has lost its rhythm, and the books are unreadable, but! This is only if one abides by the values of progress, and such can be usurped with the humble handkerchief.

“If you take a handkerchief and spread it out in order to iron it, you can see in it certain fixed distances and proximities. If you sketch a circle in one area, you can mark out nearby points and measure far-off distances. Then take the same handkerchief and crumple it, by putting it in your pocket. Two distant points suddenly are close, even superimposed. If, further, you tear it in certain places, two points that were close can become very distant. This science of nearness and rifts is called topology, while the science of stable and well-defined distances is called metrical geometry. Classical time is related to geometry, having nothing to do with space, as Bergson pointed out all too briefly, but with metrics. On the contrary, take your inspiration from topology, and perhaps you will discover the rigidity of those proximities and distances you consider arbitrary. And their simplicity, in the literal sense of the word pli [fold]: it's simply the difference between topology (the handkerchief is folded, crumpled, shredded) and geometry (the same fabric is ironed out flat)…Sketch on the handkerchief some perpendicular networks, like Cartesian coordinates, and you will define the distances. But, if you fold it, the distance from Madrid to Paris could suddenly be wiped out, while, on the other hand, the distance from Vincennes to Colombes could become infinite.”

- Conversations on science, culture, and time / Michel Serres with Bruno Latour

What of linear time now? Nothing. It has ceased. There is no past and future in the sense that progress wishes there were. There is only the vitality of events and ruptures, bleeding into one another as points on a handkerchief meet. We may be, in a Spenglerian sense at the end of a time, a culture, witnessing as it falls apart under the weight of its own dissonance, repetition, and malaise. But in a Serresean sense, we can be anytime, we can draw in and sincerely respect that which we desire without having to appease the inanity of progress’ axioms.

The Spenglerian decline will still have its men and women, those whose apathy and fear are given over in service to the vacuity of the ever-elusive future. Trapped in the circumstance of history and knelt at the altar of the modern, the ressentiment men of our day will crawl once more into yet another womb of comfort and deride those outside for their irresponsibility. There is nothing more coming, we’re at the end of this cultural shot, but then again, ends take a long time and there’s still space for at least a few more memorable repetitions. I’m no temporal pessimist, this isn’t the end of days, nor am I going to lay down and die, I have my handkerchief of crumpled time and I’m going to explore without thought for why.