Category: Western Philosophy

Social Text thirty years after the Sokal affair


Social Text still exists. In the spring of 1996, when the journal was the object of an enthusiastically publicized hoax by the physicist Alan Sokal, its survival seemed a bad bet. You published an essay arguing that gravity is a “social and linguistic construct?” Really? The mainstream media, hitherto unaware of the existence of this very little, very marginal magazine, were uncertain what exactly they were mocking. Was Social Text’s foolishness postmodern? Left wing? Cultural? Academic? They were certain, however, that what they smelled in the water was blood. On their side, and for a not insignificant portion of the left, jubilation. On the other side, humiliation. (I should know: I was the journal’s coeditor at the time.) We seemed like the stupidest people in the world, or the stupidest people who had been pretending to speak on behalf of the most avant-garde sociopolitical views. One friend of the journal suggested that we fall on our swords. If we owned no swords, swords could be made available.

The journal did not fold. One reason was that it had published a lot of good work, none of it remotely resembling Sokal’s gravity-is-a-construct nonsense, and those who cared about such things knew it. Edward Said’s “Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Victims” had come out in the first issue in 1979; for U.S.-based critiques of Zionism, 1979 was early. Other issues contained Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick’s “How to Bring Your Kids Up Gay” and Aijaz Ahmad’s Marxist critique of Marxist (and Social Text cofounder) Fredric Jameson.

Kierkegaard’s Three Stages on Life’s Way: From Pleasure to Faith


Kierkegaard saw life as a movement through three stages: aesthetic, ethical, and religious. The aesthete lives for pleasure and beauty but faces despair in the absence of meaning. The ethical person seeks order and integrity through moral commitment, discovering purpose but not ultimate peace. The religious stage transcends both—where faith defies reason and the self meets God in passionate inwardness. Kierkegaard’s vision is not about stages to climb but choices to make; each reflects how deeply one dares to live.

Losing Ourselves to “The They”: Heidegger’s Warning to the Modern Mind


Heidegger’s Being and Time unveils a quiet tragedy of modern life — our surrender of authentic existence to what he calls “the They.” In our average, everyday way of living, we speak, think, and act as others do, letting social norms and public opinion define who we are. This conformity numbs our individuality and hides the deeper question of Being itself. The comfort of belonging replaces the courage to be. To live authentically, Heidegger urges, one must awaken from this anonymous existence and face one’s own finite self — not as “they” live, but as I truly am.

When East and West Met Matter: Cārvāka and Epicurus on the Joy of Being Human


Long before science made “materialism” fashionable, two ancient traditions—India’s Cārvāka and Greece’s Epicureanism—dared to say that only the material world exists, that pleasure and reason, not gods or rituals, are the keys to human happiness. Yet, though they share a disbelief in the supernatural, they differ in spirit. Cārvāka celebrates life’s sensual immediacy; Epicurus refines pleasure into calm contentment. One urges us to taste life while it lasts; the other, to understand life so we can stop fearing it. Together, they remind us that meaning need not hide behind mysticism.

Where the Streets Have No Name: U2’s Anthem of Transcendence and Freedom


U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name” is more than a rock song — it’s a cry for transcendence. Bono imagines a place where identity, class, and faith no longer divide us; where names and boundaries dissolve into something pure and infinite. Born from the streets of Belfast and the deserts of Ethiopia, it becomes a universal hymn for freedom — spiritual, emotional, and human. The music itself seems to climb toward heaven, mirroring our own yearning to break free from limitation and live in a world, or a state of being, where the streets truly have no name.

Why Sonam Wangchuk Matters: The Moral Compass of a Nation


Sonam Wangchuk stands as a moral compass in a time when dissent is under siege. In our co-authored piece for The Wire, we argue that his peaceful resistance—anchored in Gandhian ideals and ecological wisdom—embodies the conscience of modern India. Wangchuk’s fasts and climate-focused activism are not acts of rebellion but acts of restoration: of truth, environment, and democracy itself. His story is a mirror to the nation’s soul, reminding us that silence is complicity, and courage is the truest form of love for one’s country.