New Webinar: The 6 Hidden Patterns of History

Psychologists have long studied and quite successfully described stages of psychological growth, of adult development. As life unfolds, so may we, as human beings, as personalities.

But can culture evolve? The stages of cultural development have been approached many times but never been comprehensively, coherently, and convincingly captured.

The failures of developmental social theory have left authors like David Graeber and David Wengrow able to claim that stages of evolution of society do not meaningfully exist at all – that the very notion is a delusion of Western bias.

Until now.

The critics of the idea of evolution could not be more wrong. What has been lacking is only a sufficiently deep, abstract understanding of the great patterns of patterns, of the patterns that connect. This is what is captured by the notion of metamemes: the focus of this course. It’s the DNA of history.

It’s not Stone Age, Bronze Age, and Iron Age. It’s not from bands to tribes to chiefdoms to states.

Hanzi Freinacht – this time mostly in the guise of Emil – presents a redefined theory of historical evolution, one that at a surface level may look similar to well-known models like Spiral Dynamics, but that at a closer look has become something entirely different, and one that meshes with the specific skills and knowledge of a trained historian.

The metamemes follow an inherent  and elegant logic, and this logic is unearthed in a manner that reveals how all of the leading thinkers have been groping the elephant from different angles.

This course invites you to a behind-the-scenes look at Hanzi Freinacht’s redefinition of all hitherto prevalent models of cultural development. And once you see the models, all of history looks differently.

History as you know it, is history.

Tickets can be purchased here.

Sessions take place on Saturdays and Sundays in November, 19:00-21:00 CET. Here’s the program:

Weekend One: The 6 Hidden Patterns of History (and why they’ve been so difficult to spot)

The metamemes have been missed by all the world’s leading thinkers. Why? There is an explanation, and once you see it, it becomes readily apparent not only how the past has developed, but also how the seeds of the future look from today’s perspective.

Saturday November 2:

  • What is a metameme?
  • How the “skewed” development of the metamemes makes them so hard to identify (but impossible to unsee once you’ve learned how to spot them)
  • Why art always comes first (and why ethics, sadly, always comes last)

Sunday November 3:

  • The hidden rhythm of history
  • Why some stages of development are “hard” and others are “soft”
  • Why postmodernism cannot beat capitalism (despite wanting it so badly)

Weekend Two: Where are we headed? Empirical pessimism, theoretical optimism

In the second weekend we’ll look at the future and Emil will show you where the attractors seem to be taking us. These sessions aren’t for the faint of heart, so brace thyself. You’ll get a sweeping overview of the wild torrents we’re going through and hopefully get a better idea about where to position yourself so as to make it through these crazy times that are coming.

Saturday November 9:

  • How to “outcompete” capitalism
  • The new emerging class structure in late modernity and beyond (and where you fit in)

Sunday November 10:

  • Why metamodernism might be the last stage of development before the singularity
  • Why we’re approaching a “postmodern dark age”, not a listening society

Weekend Three: History Freestyle with Emil

During the third weekend it’s time to jam. Hanzi’s got a massive unpublished material on history and socio-cultural development that Emil can present. Participants can send in proposals to historical and societal topics they would like him to talk about. No woo-woo stuff though, Emil is tired of that.

Saturday November 16 & Sunday November 17: You decide!

Want to hear a metamodern perspective on the French Revolution? You got it. Want to understand the rise, and fall, of patriarchy? No problem. Globalization and colonization? Would love to. The Axial Age and the rise of universal moral religions and philosophies? Unless you want to hold hands and meditate, certainly, Emil can deliver a razor sharp analysis to expand your consciousness on that one, too. And he can even talk for countless hours about how kick-ass our animist ancestors were, and what we can learn from the present ones without things going off rails woo-woo.

Bonus sessions with Johan Ranefors and Daniel Görtz

Finally, after the main course you are welcome to participate in a couple of bonus sessions with Johan Ranefors and Daniel Görtz. Johan is a meta-theorist associated with the Archdisciplinary Research Center (ARC) who has further developed Michael Commons Model of Hierarchical Complexity, and Daniel is Emil’s long-term partner in crime and the “other half” of Hanzi.

Saturday November 23: Johan Ranefors (a rare species of computer science-based metatheorist)

  • How the hidden rhythm of the metamemes fits with the Model of Hierarchical Complexity
  • How the Model of Hierarchical Complexity can help us make sense of socio-cultural evolution

Sunday November 24: Daniel Görtz

  • Epistemic corruption and why we can’t move on before we’ve seized the means of communication
  • Why transnationalizing the internet platform monopolies is a historical attractor point (and why Bezos and Zuckerberg don’t stand a chance in the long run)

Note that this course is the first and only place in which Johan’s metatheory is presented thus far (and this is almost true of Daniel’s presentation as well).

Pricing

Low income: 1650 DKK (c. € 220)

Standard: 2000 DKK (c. € 270)

Abundant: 2500 DKK (c. € 335)

Tickets can be purchased here.

Your host

Emil Ejner Friis (b. 1981) is a theory artist and a teacher of metamodernism, he is a co-founder of Metamoderna and one of the writers behind Hanzi Freinacht. He has spent the last ten years trying to figure out how to create a listening society, a kinder and more developed society that deeply cares for the happiness and emotional needs of every citizen.

He has tried and failed at creating a metamodern political party, he has tried and failed at creating a metamodern IT company, and he has just plainly failed at ever finishing his not-so-metamodern university studies by being drawn to all kinds of adventures to try and save the world instead. Until recently he was living on a remote tropical island where he was swimming with dogs every day. He just moved back to his old university town Lund to pursue an academic career. We’ll see how long that lasts.

When he’s not writing and theorizing, he’s conspiring with other metamodernly inclined hackers, hipsters, and hippies to outcompete modern society. To pay the rent he sells words, all the best words.

Emil is a skilled and experienced speaker with a reputation of being entertaining and good at making complex ideas easier to digest.

The 6 Hidden Patterns of History: Chapter 1, A Brief Introduction to the Metamemes Model

“Modernity is a qualitative, not a chronological category” 
                                                                     —Theodor Adorno

The following is an extract of the first chapter from Hanzi Freinacht’s unpublished book ‘The 6 Hidden Patterns of History: A Metamodern Guide to World History’. The book is not coming out anytime soon, but a webinar on the topic of world history and the six metamemes will be held this autumn, four weekends in a row November 2 – 25. More details about the course can be found here.

HF: Let’s begin this chapter with a blurry “jpeg” image of the six metamemes, the six hidden patterns of world history. 

Before we go on, I’d implore you to get a bucket and to keep it within reach. I expect especially postmodernly minded readers to react with strong contempt and violent allergy towards what follows. If this is you—if you find your fingers clutching spasmodically and a dark brooding voice inside you spells the word “linear”—just know your reaction is normal and an expected part of the process.

But do come back after you’re done vomiting—it gets more interesting, I promise. It’s a bit like Mother Ayahuasca, really: It takes a bit of throwing up to reach a breakthrough.

Here we go:

  • The Animistic metameme: Beginning with the “revolution of the upper Paleolithic” around 50 000 years ago. Characterized by animistic beliefs, totemism, shamanism, and ancestor cults that bind together larger bands of hunter-gatherers. This is also the metameme that gives rise to the first early art works.
  • The Faustian metameme: From the beginning of the agricultural revolution 12 000 years ago, blossoming with the great agrarian civilizations from around 4000 BCE. Characterized by notions of power gods, monumental architecture, and increased social stratification with privileged rulers on top with considerable means of organized violence. This is the metameme where we see the rise of powerful individuals.
  • The Postfaustian metameme: Beginning shortly before the axial age c. 800 BCE, in some aspects as early as 2000 BCE, but to its fullest extent only to blossom after 500 CE with the consolidation of the great moral religions such as Christianity, Islam and Buddhism. Characterized by transcendental ideas of salvation, literary traditions on ethics, and social critique. This is the metameme that gives rise to the so-called “righteous rebels”.
  • The Modern metameme: Beginning around 1500 CE, but in some aspects found in its proto-variant as early as 500 BCE. Blossoming only in the 19th and 20th century. Still the most prevailing metameme today. Characterized by rationalistic and scientific thought, notions of progress and material growth, and emancipation from arbitrary religious and political control.
  • The Postmodern metameme: Only to emerge in the 20th century, though some aspects appeared in the late 18th century. Yet to fully blossom. Characterized by a critique of rationalistic thought, established power relations and a greater concern with environmental and social issues.
  • The Metamodern metameme: Emerging as we speak.

Q: No, I’m fine. Really. Thank you for this introduction. Disgusting as it was.

…But it is linear—you really cannot deny that. I’m not saying this as a judgment, just a description. It’s a mainstream, Western, linear view of history. That has its place, perhaps, but it is of course not the only kind of history, nor necessarily the most relevant one in our day and age.

So your world history is for just seeing the basics from a Western mainstream perspective, as a linear progression, and then people can challenge it and nuance it, correct?

HF: No, it’s not linear, it’s not mainstream, and it’s not the Western standard (“Whig history”) model.

“Linear” means, by definition, that the more you add of something, the more of the same you get. Like following a line. Add more sugar, it gets sweeter. Add more salt, it gets saltier. Within certain ranges, these are linear equations.

Now, add more spirit worlds and rain dances… and you get high-rise pyramids, elaborate temple cities, and trade networks upholding armies allied with scribes who keep track of taxes and the number of captured slaves. To call that a linear equation is to take a very creative view on mathematics.

Add more of warrior god pantheon worship and bloody triumph of mass honor killings, and you get… Jesus. And the Buddha. And saints taking over from heroic warriors as the highest ideal of human accomplishment. And a universal order manifesting in literal wonders of beauty (cathedrals, mosques, and so on) that tower over every human settlement in honor of the divine, of universal brotherhood. Sure, linear.

And add some more of that, and you get… businessmen? Yes, lots of snazzy, shrewd capitalists turning everything under the sun into profit machines, with science itself serving as the strongest reinforcer for this to occur, until the entire world is swallowed up and ecosystems are destroyed. Some line we’re drawing. It’s a little curly, though, don’t you think? Like a spiral, even?

And add more of that, and you get… a whole blinking army of vegan feminists, intellectuals, and environmental activists who love diversity? And a virtual flood of obsessions with the minutiae of language use and its implications for social justice and power relations? Whoa. That would be postmodernism.

No, it’s not linear. The whole point of the model is that each stage is a qualitative shift, breaking the apparent “line” of the former metameme and taking a fundamentally different direction.

And it’s not the Western mainstream story, either. Because the Western mainstream would not admit that the postmodern minorities that emerge to critique it are absolutely right that the modern project is both tragic, doomed, and not a simple form of progress. And it would not admit that Animism was perhaps the best way for humans to live, nor that Postfaustian religions were in many ways a greater achievement than modern science, Modern Western mainstream historiography could even have problems admitting that colonialism was fundamentally a crime against humanity—and that global and big history must be released from the shackles of Western-centric parochialism, thereby honoring indigenous traditions as well as balancing the six, not one, mutually independent birthplaces of civilization: China, Indus River Valley, South America, Mesoamerica, Egypt, and Mesopotamia (where “Western civilization” is nothing more than a grandchild of the last two).

Postmodern historiography does see and admit these things. It does challenge the Western mainstream and its thinly disguised roots in 19th century colonialism, nationalism, and male-centrism. And my point is: Metamodern historiography entirely agrees, and seeks to proceed in this endeavor! We just want to do it better and more holistically, producing more useful theories for actually reducing the suffering of the world.

But the problem in our days, if you ask me, is that the postmodern mind cannot tell the difference between Modern historiography (yes, linear, Western, mainstream, apologetic for colonialism, blind to issues of gender and environment, reproductive of arbitrary power relations, and so on) and a Metamodern historiography, as the one in this book.

Understanding the metamemes, as the hidden patterns of history, is not the Modern mainstream history. It’s an expression of a Metamodern view of history, and as such it goes beyond Postmodern critiques of everything that moves (or everything that moves in what looks like a line).

Q: Nice. Sure, call me a postmodernist if that makes you feel safer in your Western-centric little ivory tower. I’m happy to be one if that means I fight against the long tradition of ranking peoples and cultures and epochs according to an unjust and cruel hierarchy of “evolution”. Folks like you are many, people like me are few and far between. The world needs a few of us as well.

And do tell me again that you have a more “evolved” perspective. It just proves my point: You are part of the same old, same old, white guy stuck in a square, wanting to box the world neatly into more rigid square boxes, to control it, and put yourself on top. Also in a box. I’d say it’s cute if I weren’t so utterly disgusted, given the profoundly murderous history of this very tendency. You’re even trying to appropriate the resistance of others and make it a part of your box-theory-of-boxing-everything-that-is-alive-and-organic-and-wobbly. You don’t like wobbly, I get it. You can’t handle it. It’s hard to control. I feel for you. It must be difficult to live so afraid of uncertainty, to be so much in need of controlling everything.

However, however. I do see what you mean about “linear”, I’ll give you that. That’s not exactly what I meant with linear, though. The fact still remains that you literally lined up the metamemes in a progression: I can flip back to the page, take a pencil, and draw a damned line between your stages or metamemes on the paper! But the sequence isn’t as simple as you say. You don’t claim that Animism grows out of Modernity, for instance. For my part, I can think of many ways in which it might, and it has—say, in the German Wandervogel or Lebensreform movements at the last turn of the century. People react against modernity and start seeing the spirits in nature, in their own people, reconnecting to the organic and simple, to the animal side of human life.

HF: Well, uhm. About me calling you a “pomo” (postmodernist)… Let me respond to that first and then get back to the main thread.

Please do note that you’re calling me an inheritor of positively genocidal tendencies and charging me with moral responsibility for those things. And then you’re calling me a box-man and all that, and going after my race and gender, framing me not for what I say but for external attributes I really cannot do anything about. At least you should ask yourself why you get to frame me and my argument but if I do the same to you, only in a less unfair manner (framing your position, not your skin color), I’m suddenly the pinnacle of evil? If you don’t like having your position framed as pomo, why then do you insist on framing my position, and also my person?

I guess I sometimes do call you “a pomo”, at least in regard to how vehemently you resist stage theories—or the good ones, not the poor ones. The difference is, though, that’s an assessment not of you as a person or collective category, but of the content of your argumentation. And not only that—it’s a fairly positive assessment. I thereby say that you hold almost all of the values that I also hold and cherish. It’s only that I have a different view on how to defend and manifest those values.

Q: Yada, yada. Hurt white men… Heroes of the whole world, who nobody in the world ever asked for. So sensitive. So fragile. Can’t take two seconds of critique. So used to being the talker.

HF: Sure. I don’t think we’re getting anywhere on that one. Back to the actual discussion, then.

I’m not saying that nothing Animist can ever come from modernity. I’m not. Indeed, this kind of emergence (earlier metamemes from later ones) is an important theme throughout this book. All of the metamemes always coexist as generative potentials.

What I am saying is that they must first emerge sequentially. There’s just no way for a band of twelve people in the desert foraging for roots to invent Newtonian physics and then to critique its implications on how it makes for a mechanistic cosmology and thus an alienating and anti-ecological worldview with a Cartesian ghost left echoing in the machine, feeling lonely. It just doesn’t happen. You don’t get Modernity and Postmodernity directly from Animism. You don’t. If that’s “too linear” for you, you’re just being dogmatic, sorry.

If I may deconstruct your position for a bit, you seem a bit stuck on the dogma, the underlying supposition, that lines are bad. But reality is more complex than that. Lines are sometimes good, sometimes bad. Lines do exist, also in living systems, even in mycelia. Sometimes lines describe the relationships between things accurately. The dance of the universe follows many geometric shapes, some of which happen to be lines.

Again, I said you’d really need a bucket, and I did promise you more interesting nuance if you could only finish vomiting. It’s normal. I understand. Just pull your hair back. Here’s some tissue.

But just to really get the line-allergy issue under control, let’s do it like this. When I wrote the summary blurry jpeg image paragraph, I had little choice but to line the things up on the paper, indeed forming a line in a superficial sense. That’s a limitation of communicating in this format, on a two-dimensional surface, in text. A more accurate way of describing the progression of metamemes is that they branch off from one another in one tree, where each new branch is smaller and younger than the last. Like this:

I wish to credit my good friend Joe Lightfoot for being the one to come up with the idea of presenting the stages as a tree. For the rest of eternity, the official name for this model will thus be known as The Lightfoot Tree™.

The Lightfoot Tree™ illustrates the proportions of the stretches of time within which humans have lived in and expressed the different metamemes. In today’s world, modernity looks like the biggest one on the surface (because there’s just so much of it across the planet), but all of the oldest and in that sense most trial-and-error evolved cultures that jive with their direct environment are animist. Modernity is only about five centuries old. The oldest Animist cultures, say, the San people in the Kalahari desert, are literally close to a hundred times older. That’s the trunk of human experience. That’s the cultural and psychological homestead of humanity.

(And this model mirrors, by the way, the bifurcation diagram in chaos theory. It’s a bit more technical, and way ahead of where we are in the discussion, but I have added a discussion of the connection between metamemes and the bifurcation diagram in the appendix to this book. I recommend reading it, after having finished the book.)

Q: That’s… pretty gender-typical ‘splaining. But in keeping with my value of being a good listener (something white men with big ideas like yourself aren’t exactly known for), I’ll humor you. I know you’re trying to talk me into something, but hey, I’m confident I can resist so I may as well hear you out, even if I more or less already know what you’re going to say. Because I’ve already thought of this discussion and come farther than you have.

Okay, so let’s say you have these metamemes branching off organically from one another, where Animism is the biggest and oldest root, with tens of thousands of years of lived history. At least it’s better than a staircase of human history leading up to George H. W. Bush and the fall of the Berlin Wall. Modernity is just one of many ways that humans live and express themselves, fine. And Western societies are just one set of expressions, in turn, of modernity. There is so much human richness that arose long before anything one might call “modernity” ever appeared. And there do come beautiful and interesting things after and beyond it—sure, we can call that postmodern, if we want. A more critical and nuanced mind can notice that, for instance, an Amazon tribe’s shamanic practice can be wiser and more embodied than anything modern life ever cooked up in its soulless office landscapes.

But since you’ve added a stage after the Postmodern metameme, I can’t stop wondering if it wouldn’t be possible to add a stage before the Animistic one? (Again, I don’t buy the idea of stages, or branches or however you’d like sneakily to rebrand it, but I’ll play along to see how your thinking makes sense internally, regardless of my wider perspective. I’m just interested in the social phenomenon of people thinking like you do. I’ve always been like that, interested in people, even the bad ones and the vulnerabilities that drive them.)

HF: Ah, I’m happy we can speak on friendlier terms, even if just as a truce. It’s all I ask for. And yes, by the way, modernity is only one of many human expressions, and Western modernity is only a subcategory of that. Exactly correct, dear Q. And this whole “Western modernity” has been blown out of proportion in terms of its influence on the world, with partly disastrous consequences. We completely agree!

It’s just that to balance this out and bring about a global order that actually honors and integrates the multiplicity of human experience, we need to first admit that there is such a thing as modernity—the Modern metameme—and that it’s not the same as simply “being Western”. We need to understand what it actually is. And we need to not implicitly hold Western societies to a higher standard than other cultures, because that’s treating one thin sliver of human expression as the adult and all the others as the children. Western guilt vis-à-vis the rest of the world has an unfortunate way of smuggling Western supremacy in through the back door.

But, yes, whether there’s a stage before the Animistic one is a really good question. It’s almost as if I was telling you what to ask.

If it wasn’t for the fact that my publisher had already marketed this book as “The 6 Hidden Patterns”, we might as well change the title to “The 7 Hidden Patterns of History”. The Animistic metameme obviously didn’t appear out of nowhere, but emerged from a more rudimentary stage of development.

This more rudimentary stage doesn’t contain any of the Animistic metameme’s typical features such as spirit beliefs, mythological narratives, and works of art. I have refrained from dedicating a chapter to it since there really wouldn’t be much to say, and since most of it would be based on speculation anyway. The main way in which this—let’s call it the Archaic—metameme, differs from an “animal” condition to use a clumsy term, is in its technological features. It includes spoken language, domestication of fire, and tool use. These are the innovations that initially made humans, or more specifically hominids (since there were several subspecies of humans at this level of development), so different from other animals.

But, tellingly, the Archaic metameme left little to nothing in the way of art.

It had been around for over 300 000 years, maybe even more than a million (a group of archaeologists just unearthed the remains of what they believe is a one million years old campfire), since “the dawn of homo sapiens as a species”. It clearly encompassed other species of homo: homo habilis, homo erectus, Neanderthals, and Cro-Magnon. If we study the period of about 70 000 years ago, there were at least six different human species on earth.

It’s old. It’s Archaic. Hundreds of millennia of ongoing human life, and no art. That very fact should make us pause. It’s on the very edge between biological and cultural evolution, which is also why it encompasses different species of hominids.

Here’s the watershed moment where a cultural evolution began to decide the fate of biological evolution. That’s something we’re entirely used to in the anthropocene, where mustard plants have become everything from spinach to cabbage to cauliflower, and wolves speciate into 360 species of dogs—biological realities that match cultural evolution (from herding to handbags and Hollywood showoff, in the case of shepherd dogs and chihuahuas). But 70 000 years ago, it was rare for culture to determine the fate of biological evolution—Archaic was shared across species of the genus “homo”, but when Animism took root, certain groups started to kick some serious butt and drove the others to a combination of extinction and biological assimilation. Culture had slowly started eating the biosphere already back then. 

The Archaic metameme entails the beginnings of “culture” that accumulates learning in a way that makes culture come alive as its very own form of evolution. It is thus not only the first metameme, but also the first “hard” metameme. It established the foundational material conditions, or the “coordination engine” if we are to use my terminology, of the first human societies; a way of life that on a fundamental level remained the same until the agrarian age. But in between, with the emergence of animism, a new cultural superstructure was created on top of this hunter-gatherer coordination engine. But, in spite of all the cultural advances that animism brought about, the “hard” material conditions remained the same: people had to hunt and gather to get food, they depended on open fires for cooking and keeping warm, and they used language to coordinate life in small groups of wandering bands.

Q: Whoa, wait a second, “hard” metameme? “Coordination engine”? What do you mean? You can’t keep making up new words without explaining what you’re talking about.

HF: Oh sorry, I haven’t explained that yet. Take a deep breath and let me elaborate.

Q: You don’t need to tell me how to breathe, but go on.

Hard and Soft Metamemes

HF: Remember the particular rhythm I mentioned in the introduction? What I’m referring to is this dialectic dance in which one metameme brings about new economic and political conditions, and then as a counter reaction, the next metameme brings about new cultural and ethical codes to alleviate the (mostly unintended) ills of the former. Just to be clear, I don’t mean to essentialize the terms “hard” and “soft”; they merely serve as short and practical ways to imply that some metamemes bring about “hard” technological and organizational changes, while others bring about “soft” ethical and cultural changes. Simply stated, even if Postfaustianism is a “soft” metameme, there was very little softness going on in its purest instantiation: the Spanish Inquisition. Likewise, Modernity is a “hard” metameme, but it got rid of slavery and corporal punishment, which arguably made the world a “softer” place.

Hence, not everything about Modernity is “hard”. But Modern capitalism still has some “harder” edge than the Postfaustian medieval morality: Postfaustianism changed what came before it (Faustianism) into something softer, increasing the emphasis on spiritual values. Modernity was a more profane development, working not through new religions as much as with new modes of getting things done.

On this more abstract level it makes perfect sense to say that:

  • Archaic is a hard metameme, because it forms the basis of hunter-gatherer tech.
  • Animism is a soft metameme, as it builds on the already-existent hunter-gatherer tech and generates the mythologies, stories, and spiritual and artistic animation of the natural world associated with the thousands of unique expressions of Animist cultures across the world.
  • Faustianism is a hard metameme, as it’s associated with some technological advancement (typically, but not necessarily, agriculture, as we shall discuss later) that allows for larger populations to co-exist as one culture or social unit, one civilization.
  • Postfaustianism is a soft metameme as it builds on the emergence of civilization, challenging and rearranging its social relations and ethical expression.
  • Modernity is a hard metameme as it revolutionizes the economy and the sources of available power.
  • Postmodernism is a soft metameme, because it critiques and remedies the injustices and inconsistencies of modern life, always seeking to establish that “another world is possible”.
  • Metamodernism is a hard metameme, as it emerges only in fully post-industrial forms of life that are based around the Internet and its unique life conditions and social games.

Let’s trace these contours a bit further.

The combination of agriculture and centralized governance, which makes up the core of the Faustian coordination engine, fundamentally didn’t change with the Postfaustian metameme that followed: most people remained farmers, whose production surplus was siphoned off to an elite who controlled them by a monopoly on coercive force. With a few exceptions, that’s how life was organized in most agrarian parts of Eurasia for millennia up until modern times. (The picture is more complex of course but more details later.)

The Postfaustian metameme did, however, change the ways in which people relate to one another. Prophets, philosophers, and what sociologist of religion Robert Bellah called “righteous rebels” introduced new moral teachings to make society less brutal and, if not in practice, then at least on paper, put certain restraints on rulers and what they were allowed to do. Postfaustianism and its great spiritual traditions like Buddhism, Christianity, Islam etc. thus made life a little “softer”, hence the name “soft” metameme.

On one hand we can talk about a cultural superstructure on top of the Faustian metameme, on the other, and if we want to be cynical about it, merely a thin veneer around it. After all, preaching non-violence, equality, and charity can only take you so far. And despite the fervor with which religious authorities fought (what they saw as) superstition and tried to educate and enlighten the masses, Postfaustian society remained rather ignorant, poor, and violent. This only began to change with modernity. The Postfaustian critique of Faustian society simply wasn’t enough to change the foundational economic and political structure of society. The Faustian engine only began to yield as modernity brought a new “hard” engine of coordination into existence: capitalism and mechanized industrial production powered by fossil fuels. Society didn’t become the kingdom of brotherly love and enlightened spirituality many postfaustians had envisioned, far from it, but modernity did effectively minimize many of the issues Postfaustian society was struggling with such as poverty, oppression, slavery, superstition, and violence.

Q: Seriously, are you saying that capitalism has led to a more peaceful world? That it has made way with poverty and oppression? I’d say the opposite is the case.

HF: Do we really need to go through this again? Sigh… 

The fact that you can sit here comfortably and critique me, and everyone else, including the ruling class and the government, ought to say something about the social and political progress that’s been made. And how come you’re not dead yet, you seem well into your forties? So you haven’t been drafted to serve in the King’s army against his rebellious duke of a cousin you say? And when was the last time your lord whipped you for not plowing the fields properly? Ah, you say you work at the university? You and how many million others worldwide?

Q: Okay, okay, sure, some things have certainly improved in the rich part of the world, but the poverty, oppression, and violence has just been outsourced to the third world.

HF: Say that to the billions of people in Asia and Latin America who’ve been lifted out of acute poverty during the past 50 years of globalization. Sure, life is still hard, but you can’t argue against better nutrition, higher average life span, lower child mortality, higher average living standards, and so on, and so on. Sure, the West has supported a number of oppressive dictatorships around the world, but overall, more people live under democratic governments now than 100 years ago. How many people lived in democracies that respected human rights before the dawn of capitalism? Zero.

Your critique of global capitalism’s many unfortunate consequences is valid and important. On another occasion I would gladly discuss with you how people in poor countries are being exploited to serve the needs of those in the rich. But I’m not trying to defend capitalism. I have another project in mind, and that is to show that hard and soft metamemes interact with each other in a surprising manner: It’s very often the hard metameme that finally turns the values of the former, soft, metameme, into a reality. The hard has a soft edge, the soft has a hard edge.

This touches upon one of the main points in this book and the next (Outcompeting Capitalism), namely that postmodernism doesn’t offer anything to replace modernity’s hard engine of coordination with. Postmodern rebels can critique capitalism, and they can win the moral high ground and reign supreme in intellectual life, which isn’t entirely without its merits since it enables them to define what’s good and evil. But that doesn’t suffice to deliver on many of postmodernism’s promises. In the end we might get vegan hamburgers in recyclable bags sold to us by a highly esteemed minority person during pride month at McDonald’s, and top it off with an organic fair-trade coffee at a unionized Starbucks, but beneath it all the engine of industrial capitalism is still running the show.

In a way, soft metamemes are all about ethics—but the hard metamemes are about how to apply the ethics that were developed within the frames of the preceding metameme. You see, postfaustians (religious folks) are generally more likely than modernists (mainstream people) to give money to the poor or refuse military service, and postmodernists (woke folks) are more likely than metamodernists to be vegans. But that doesn’t mean postfaustians are better than modernists at creating a fair and peaceful society, or that postmodernists are better than metamodernists at creating a humane and sustainable society. Or rather: for slavery to be abolished, you need postfaustian moral indignation in an industrial society created by moderns; for non-human animal slavery to end, you need postmodern morality acting in a more metamodern society. The hard metamemes add rather little in terms of moral awakening to the soft ones, but they operationalize that new morality and create the real, material conditions for it to go from fantasy and jargong to reality and law.

On a societal level, it takes a hard metameme to walk the talk. Yet, the ways in which hard metamemes apply the ethics of their predecessor tend to feel severely heretical to those who’re still subscribing to the old ways of thinking. To postfaustian Christians and Muslims, modern banking practices such as payment of interest, or usury, and the idea of scientific inquiry, were literally heretical back in the day. People were burned alive for these deeds. Still, modernity succeeded where postfaustianism failed and ended slavery, got rid of tyrannical overlords, and created welfare systems to effectively care for the poor.

Likewise, this very book tends to feel nothing short of heretical to pomos (again, see my next book…). For now, I just want to clarify the difference between the foundational coordination engine that emerges with the hard metamemes like the Faustian and Modern ones, and the overarching cultural and ethical superstructure that the soft metamemes like the Postfaustian and Postmodern ones build on top of these.

***

Q: You talk about agriculture and industrial capitalism as “coordination engines”, but isn’t “engine” a rather mechanistic term that can mislead us into seeing a complex system like a human society as a more linear one like that of a machine? Using such terms is a bit male-centric, too, but I can forgive you for your boyish fascination with things that go “vrmm, vrmm” if that’s your thing.

HF: First of all, the term “engine” is actually rather feminine if we look at its etymology. It’s derived from the Latin word “ingenitum”, which is the past participle of “ingignō, meaning “to instill by birth”. And when we remove the in- prefix, then we’re left with gignō which directly translates into the unambiguously feminine act of giving birth.

I was also tempted to use the word “motor”, which is largely interchangeable with “engine” in the English language. “Motor” is derived from the Latin word “mōtō” which means “to set in motion”. I settled for “engine” because it sounded better, but the etymology of these two words very much captures what I want to imply, namely an underlying generative structure—or function, if you will—that sets everything else in motion.

Yet, the image of a car engine is not entirely without merit. We all know there’s only so much you can do if the engine is old and doesn’t run very well. Replacing it is a massive endeavor, but it can be done, and if successfully so, you basically have a brand-new car—which is what I want to emphasize with the term “coordination engine”. (I know most people would just scrap the old car and buy a new one, but when it comes to societies we rarely have that luxury.)

And, again, the hard metamemes come with a whole new coordination engine: a new engine that creates patterns of how the actions of real human beings are coordinated with one another, how they are woven together, how they make up a social fabric.

Q: It’s a bit abstract. Can you state as clearly as possible what a coordination engine is?

HF: The coordination engine is the underlying pattern of how people coordinate their actions with one another and the material flows around them, through space and time. This means that they can coordinate via hunting-gathering and camp-fire talks, by seasonal work efforts to sow crops, through labor markets and state regulation and national currency, and so on.

It’s about the economy in a wide sense: about how human activities link up with one another. Think about it: “an economy” is basically a pattern of coordination of human agency over space and time. I mine some ore, the shipper brings it to your plant, you smelt it and purify it, someone else takes it to a factory, the factory worker shapes it, the marketer markets it, and the retail person sells it, and the dinner guest cuts a potato with the knife that has somehow made it into her hand. An unbelievable chain of coordinated actions made that very knife hit that very potato on that very plate. In today’s world, the economy consists of countless billions of such coordinations every day. It’s human hands moving all parts, yes, but the pattern that coordinates the hands takes on a life of its own, as it were, beyond any and all comprehension of any one single agent. You might call it “an invisible hand” if you wish, but there is no reason to assume that such an entity only works through “the market” and only creates wealth. To see what a society is, in its material and social reality, is to see what patterns are in place to coordinate all of those behaviors and material flows.

And that’s the coordination engine: the emergent pattern of economic activity, the shape that economic activity takes. It’s a deeper and more generalized (and abstracted) term than the old Marxist “mode of production”. How things are “produced” is just a thin sliver of the actual coordination engine. The coordination engine includes how everything is transported, managed, powered, distributed, priced, sold, advertised, consumed, understood, experienced, disposed of, possibly recycled, calculated, and so forth. How human action is coordinated. It’s a dance, just one that includes production lines. The coordination engine interacts with material reality, by patterning it into everything from potato chips to skyscrapers to jet fighters into one seamless flow, but it’s not reducible to “the material”. It’s an informational entity. It’s the DNA, if you will, of the economy. You’re made of the potatoes you ate, materially speaking. But without your DNA, you’d still be a sack of potatoes (and who knows, maybe there’s still a chance you might be). Without the coordination engine, the “material economy” would still be minerals in the ground and fish in the sea. But the emergent property that we call cultural history intervened, and it transformed minerals and fish alike into human products with their own specific meanings in the economy.

The hard metamemes stem from updates of this coordination engine. The soft ones do not entail a revolution of the coordination engine. They revolutionize its overarching cultural superstructure.

Q: When you talk about an “overarching cultural superstructure” I’m a bit confused whether you’re intentionally using Marxist terminology. To Marx, a society’s superstructure is the culture, ideology, norms, and identities people inhabit, all the relationships and ideas not directly related to the mode of production such as institutions, political power structures, roles, rituals, religion, media, and so on. On one hand I see similarities between you and Marx in the way you claim the superstructure is dependent on the coordination engine, what Marxists called the “base”, but on the other hand you seem to be talking about something entirely different since the metamemetic superstructure emerges after the coordination engine, and, although dependent on the coordination engine, actually seeks to topple the power structures of the hard metameme. According to Marx, the superstructure merely reflects the ruling class’ interests by justifying how the base operates and by defending the power of the elite.

HF: I actually didn’t intend on using Marxist terminology, but was just looking for a good word to describe what kind of animal we’re talking about. However, since “superstructure” already has this very particular connotation among Marxists, it probably isn’t the best term after all.

Plus, now that I’m thinking about it, a structure is a fixed entity anyway, derived from the Latin word “structūra” which literally means “building”, which is far from the dynamic creature we’re dealing with here. So let’s reconsider: If we have an underlying engine that’s responsible for how everything is being coordinated, what sort of thing is this cultural movement that critiques its flaws and ethical shortcomings? What does it do?

Q: I don’t know, something that corrects flaws and errors, something that generates coherence?

HF: Yes, we could talk about a generator; something that is dependent on the power from the engine to “give birth” to something else (Latin: generō, same root as gignō, the noun “Genus”, “birth giving”!). And what is that something else? Coherence you say, or perhaps even better: purification.

From all the incoherences of the former metameme, all the impurities and pathologies, the type of cultural superstructure created by a soft metameme is, in essence, a purification generator aiming to address the entropy caused by the previous hard metameme’s engine of coordination. Humans are conscious agents. We don’t just follow economic and social structures blindly. We reflect on them, comment upon them, critique them, wrestle the cognitive dissonance that emerges. And sooner or later our conscience catches up, and we decide it’s time to come clean, to do the right thing, as far as we can imagine what that might entail. That’s the soft metameme taking hold.

We could call it a “coherence generator”, but let’s settle for “purification generator”—it sounds better, I think.

Q: Okay, I think I understand. What you’re saying is that first we have the emergence of a new way of production and governance, a new “hard” coordination engine in your words—and then we have a critique of the new hard facts of life, which brings about a cultural revolution of sorts, the cultural superstructure or so-called “purification generator”, that manages to make life more tolerable, more fair, and a little less brutal, but without replacing the productive and governmental foundation of society—which is only replaced by the emergence of a new engine of coordination on the following stage.

Yet, if we look at actual historical developments, the rhythm, or pattern, you’re talking about doesn’t really appear to hold up with the chaotic realities of history: For most of the period we categorize as the modern age, from the early 1600’s and well into the 1900’s, things were quite nasty and brutish nonetheless. The enlightened ways of modernity didn’t seem to have much of an influence on how people treated one another during this period despite all the progress that had been made in science, philosophy, and industry. And if we take the Renaissance in Northern Italy in the 1300’s and 1400’s, it’s remarkable to observe how modern and secular they were in their artistic expressions despite society being as medieval as it was back then, or Postfaustian as you’d call it. In addition, many of the things you define as Postfaustian can be found in the earliest civilizations, way before the emergence of the great world religions around 500 BC.

What I mean to say is that societal developments don’t seem to proceed in these neatly ordered sequences you claim. Reality is much more chaotic than that. What’s your reply to that?

HF: I’m glad you brought this up. This brings us to the second aspect of the rhythm, namely that metamemetic development is “skewed”.

Development Is Skewed:
Art Always Comes First, Morality Comes Last

HF: Metamemes do not emerge as full packages containing everything we need to transition from one stage to the next. And they do not change everything at the same time. Some things emerge before others, and some things take longer time to come into being.

Q: Okay, I got it. What you’re saying is that progress is less predetermined and that there are still a lot of surprises regarding how things actually unfold—but, the metameme model gives us a rough sketch on what to expect and how things generally behave. It’s fuzzy, and it’s supposed to be, so that it doesn’t get too absolute and rigid, so it allows for richness, nuance, and exceptions, right?

HF: No, not really.

I’m claiming that there is a very specific pattern to this developmental sequence, and that it follows a particular logic which can help us to interpret the past and to a certain extent even reason about the future more accurately.

 have very little regard for the great intellectual copout of our time: “it’s nuanced, it’s full of contractions, it’s complex”. Yes, it’s complex. But underlying every complexity is an elegant simplicity. So also in cultural history. Chaos is complex, sure: but chaos theory is relatively straightforward. That’s the sort of insight we’re looking for.

It’s just that the specific pattern is hidden, as it were, in plain sight. Now we shall look past surface phenomena—say, the “bronze age” and other categorizations of the modern mind—and see the elegance that connects and explains how simplicity and complexity forever dance together to the melodies of reality. If reality weren’t patterned, the wonderful chaos of music, even jazz jams, wouldn’t be possible.

Let me restate the old dictum: “Art always comes first!”. What this means is that art is always the first step in a new metamemetic sequence of development. The first elements of a new metameme always occur within the arts, so if you want to get an impression of what the next stage might entail, you should figure out what cutting edge artists are up to.

What fewer people are aware of is that morality, or norms, is always last. I’ll return to why that is in a minute. First I’d like to show you the full metamemetic sequence of development:

  1. Art
  2. Philosophy
  3. Entrepreneurship
  4. Politics
  5. Morality

There’s a logical reason why art comes first, namely that it only takes one highly gifted person who’s ahead of their times to create an artwork that breaks with the conventional logic of the current metameme. What artists do, or more specifically, what some artists are talented enough to do, is to sense many of the yet-to-be-obtained potentialities of reality. They can, in a way, “taste” the future, or, if you’ve read my previous books and are familiar with the terminology, feel the “attractor points” and follow their direction further and deeper than other, less sensitive, and less attuned, individuals. And they do so without having a formalized language to describe what they see. They just do it. And exactly that’s why art is so important: Art can describe that which we’re yet to have a language for.

This is also the reason why philosophers come in second. They have to go through the trouble of developing a common, conceptual language to painstakingly describe all the things artists just feel. For philosophical truths to become established it also requires all the drama of scholarly peer review. Artists don’t need to bother with that shit.

And when the philosophers (and other thinkers who might not necessarily identify as such) are done with it, the new ideas start trickling down towards all those shrewd entrepreneurs and activists wanting to change the world.

And from these disruptions, politicians finally wake up and try to adapt society to the new conditions.

And finally, long after the first artist and philosophers discovered the new metameme, new values and moral codes, a new system of norms starts propagating throughout the wider population. This is, by comparison, a very slow process that always faces the inertia of the old ways: people hold each other back, the habits and customs of one sets limits for the expression of another. You can be as gay as you want; if every sibling, cousin, friend, uncle, aunt, teacher, and colleague you’ll ever meet hate gays, you won’t be able to go very liberal on that issue. Norms can change like avalanches, yes, but they by definition follow the crowd.

Morality, or more specifically the common average morality of a population, is last exactly because it requires so many more people (who generally don’t care about art and philosophy) to subscribe to the ethics of a new metameme in order to change the norm system of a society. A new morality cannot really be said to have taken hold if only an elite minority of intellectuals subscribes to it. It needs to be shared by the majority. And when that finally happens, artists and philosophers have already discovered the next metameme, and entrepreneurs and activists are already starting to disrupt the world once again. 

As such, there will always be a metamemetic lag, or developmental imbalances, between different parts of society, with many negative consequences as a result. That imbalance, in turn, actually explains “what’s wrong with the world”, and what will keep being wrong, better than any other theory I’ve ever heard of. We will return to this tragic state of affairs many times throughout this book.

If you’re familiar with the Model of Hierarchical Complexity, which I introduced in The Listening Society, and if you want to learn how this sequence of development fits into that, you can take a peek in the appendix of this book where I make use of a clever model developed by my good friend Johan Ranefors.

***

Q: Okay, it kind of makes sense that art would come first and common morality last, but can you back that up with historical evidence?

HF: Yes I can. That’s what this book is about. But first we need to agree on the definitions.

When people think of “modern art” they probably think of Picasso. And with good reasons since that’s the kind of art that has been labeled “modernism” in art history textbooks, and since it’s also the kind of art you’d typically find in a so-called “modern” art museum. Or, as we like to say these days, museums of contemporary art, so they can contain other things than just “modernism”.

But, in my more theoretically specific and abstracted vocabulary, Picasso wasn’t Modern, he was Postmodern. Rembrandt was Modern.

Because the term “modernism” is so laden with connotations as the “art of high modernity”, I avoid using the term in this book. Instead, I speak of the classically sociological term: modernity. This term much more closely resembles what I mean with “the Modern metameme”.

The way in which Picasso—and other painters from the late 1800’s and onwards—began creating abstract compositions with little to no resemblance to anything in our visual reality is simply in direct opposition to the modern photorealistic approach that preceded it. They were exactly breaking away from modernity. They just did it during the period of high modernity. But art always comes first, so they were ahead of their time, thus expressing and manifesting the Postmodern metameme.

Q: Okay, but how exactly do you define modern art then? Not modernism, but your idea of “the art pertaining to the modern metameme”.

HF: If we take Modern painting, for example, two things stand out: 1) mathematically correct perspective, and 2) photorealistic lighting. There are of course other things, but these two are the most important if we are to identify modern art in the visual tradition.

The ambition, and technical expertise, to create realistically looking representations of the world, obviously captures the spirit of the modern scientific ethos of mapping the world as objectively accurate as possible. People have always tried to accurately depict the physical world, yes, but it wasn’t before the Renaissance, in which the Modern metameme came online, that anyone truly succeeded. If you look at art from the Middle Ages and earlier, from all around the world, beautiful as it is, you wouldn’t exactly call it photorealistic. Look at a Rembrandt, and it could be mistaken for a photograph from a distance—a heavily filtered one, but nonetheless very realistic looking. You don’t find that level of realism anywhere else before that time.

Mathematically correct perspective, also known as linear- or point-projection perspective, was first developed in Northern Italy in the 1400’s, and realistic lighting began with the Flemish oil painters, likewise in the 1400’s. That these two modern art techniques first emerged in Northern Italy and the Low Countries is hardly a coincidence. At the time, these were the two economically most advanced regions in Europe, and probably the world. It’s also here we find the first instances of capitalism’s two foundational pillars: modern banking (Italy, 1300’s) and the corporation (Netherlands, 1600’s).

Q: Hmm, there’s really a lot of confusion around the term “modernity”. Normally we talk about the modern period starting after the American and French revolutions. The period before that, starting from around the time of Columbus’ first voyage to America and the Reformation in Europe is often termed the “Early Modern Period”. Some, however, see the Renaissance as the beginning of modernity, just like you, whereas others see the Enlightenment in the 1700’s as the time when the world started to become modern. But in Scandinavia, they talk about the “Modern Breakthrough” for the period 1870-1890. So when did the world actually get modern then?

HF: Yes, it is confusing, and it obviously depends on how you define modernity. But I think the model of skewed development can truly be of help here, not least by helping us to properly distinguish what’s Modern and what’s Postmodern and Postfaustian, and how different elements emerge at different times.

Here’s a brief overview: 

  • Emergence of modern art, 1400s: In Northern Italy we have Masaccio (1401–1428) who was one of the first to use linear perspective in his paintings, and in Flandern we have Jan van Eyck (1390–1441) and Robert Campin (1375–1444) who pioneered the oil painting technique to produce realistically looking lighting. Although the Renaissance also was a time of social change and new humanist ideas challenging the doctrines of the Church, which among other things led to the Reformation, it was primarily an era of artistic advances. Proper Modern philosophy would only emerge in the following centuries.
  • Emergence of modern philosophy and science, 15-1600s: René Descartes (1596–1650) is widely considered the first modern philosopher. He was the founding figure of continental rationalism, later advocated by Spinoza (1632–1677) and Leibniz (1646–1716). This was opposed by the empiricist school of thought on the other side of the English Channel, consisting of Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679), John Locke (1632–1704), George Berkeley (1685–1753), and David Hume (1711–1776).
    This is also the time of what has later been called “The Scientific Revolution” which consisted of a series of events that marked the emergence of modern science, with the 1543 publication of De revolutionibus orbium coelestium of Copernicus (1473–1543), which put the sun in the middle of the solar system, often cited as its beginning, and the 1687 Isaac Newton (1643–1727) publication Principia which formulated the laws of motion and universal gravitation widely considered its culmination. Scientific institutions were established in London, the Royal Society, in 1660, and in Paris, Académie royale des sciences, in 1666. As you can see, the Scientific Revolution was in many ways the forerunner to the Enlightenment, which in turn came into being as Europeans (mostly men of upper classes) tried to grapple with the social and metaphysical implications of the clockwork universe implied by science.
  • Modern entrepreneurship, late 1700s – 1800s: This is of course the time of the (first) Industrial Revolution which began in Britain with the introduction of coal powered steam engines in textile production. Thomas Newcomen invented the first commercially successful steam engine in 1712, which James Watt vastly improved upon in 1776—the same year that Adam Smith, also known as the “The Father of Capitalism”, published his magnum opus The Wealth of Nations, which is widely considered the first modern work on economics. (And the same year as another modern development, the American Declaration of Independence). Modernity spreads into society at large, as a form of enactment.
  • Modern politics, 1800s – early 1900s: This is the period where we see the development of the modern state in Western Europe and North America. This development can be said to have started after the Napoleonic Wars with its lasting legacy of Code Napoléon and the consolidation of centralized nation states. The 19th century is also the time when European states began constructing modern bureaucracies (which had already been pioneered by the Chinese 2000 years earlier however). This period culminated at the end of the First World War with the abolishment of monarchies (or reducing them to mere figureheads) in Europe, the introduction of universal suffrage in many countries, and the establishment of the first socialist republic in the USSR. In many ways, however, it wasn’t until after the end of the Second World War with the defeat of fascism and the founding of the United Nations and the Declaration of Human Rights in 1948 that the modern political order had finally been established.
  • Modern morality, after 1945 (still ongoing): It has only been after the end of the Second World War, and with that the defeat of regressive modern faustianism in the form of fascism, that a truly modern morality has begun to dominate—and then, only in the most developed parts of the world. Only quite recently have values such as secularity, plurality, and tolerance been embraced by a majority of the population in this part of the world. The majority of the world’s population remain largely religious and still subscribe to Postfaustian, and even Faustian, codes of morality.

***

Q: I see that you define modernity in terms of secular philosophy, science, industrial production, human rights, and democratic governance. So in effect, what you’re saying, is that the world hasn’t become fully modern yet, right? I mean, billions of people still live and work under pre-industrial conditions, and only a privileged minority in the world’s wealthiest countries can be said to live in politically modern states that respect human rights and have universal suffrage.

HF: You’re right, modernity remains an unfinished project, as Habermas pointed out in 1980. Bruno Latour had his own spin on this idea, summarized in the book title We Have Never Been Modern (Latour, arguably a late postmodernist thinker, meant to critique not the lack of modernity in the world, but hole at the center of the modern project itself). I very much agree with Habermas that much is still to be done in the realm of modernity, but his argument that it’s therefore too early to be thinking about the possibility of a postmodern world is quite mistaken—especially today more than 40 years later. Postmodernism had been well underway in arts and philosophy since before Habermas was wearing diapers, and today we are well into a phase where the economy and politics are becoming increasingly postmodern. And if we look at some of the most progressive places on Earth, in cultural hotspots like San Francisco, Stockholm, or Berlin, postmodern norms have already become predominant in a significant proportion of the population.

I believe the metamemes model can help us make sense of the fact that development is not only unevenly spread geographically, but also that developments that otherwise belong together emerge at different intervals, because…

Q: …because a metameme is a qualitative, not a chronological category, to paraphrase Theodor Adorno.

HF: Exactly.

Q: Alright, I get it, it’s obvious that some societies seem to be in the process of becoming Postmodern at the same time while others are struggling to become Modern. And it also makes sense that we can have postmodern artists and thinkers in a society that’s still predominantly modern, and that we can have a country that has just made the transition to a modern industrial economy while its politicians and most of its population are still stuck in a largely religious, postfaustian way of thinking.

Still, something about the bullet points above rubs me the wrong way. It comes off pretty old-fashioned, in my opinion. It’s remarkably similar to the kind of progressivist mainstream historical narrative we’ve been told over and over again. I thought we had come further than that. You might still find this kind of stuff on the Discovery Channel, but among serious scholars in the historiographical sciences this way of thinking has largely been abandoned. I’m sorry to say it, but it does appear like classic Whig history to me, just in a new and (tying-to-be) flashy dressing.

We now know that many of the things we associate with modernity actually have indigenous roots and that many of the ideas of the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment had already been discussed by earlier Islamic, Indian, and Chinese philosophers. Some Enlightenment ideas may even have been direct derivations of Native American critiques of European societies, hence placing the genesis of modernity in Europe within its own dialectic, but in its very meeting with foreign and freer cultures and creeds. So when we talk about modernity as this universal thing that emerged in Europe, isn’t that just a symptom of the eurocentrism derived from the West being the first part of the world to industrialize and colonize the rest?

True, there’s no denying that the West developed far in a sense “superior” weapons and means of production, which also gave them the resources to support a great number of artists and philosophers. But if we look at global capitalism, colonialism, slavery, and the environmental destruction caused by modernity, it all doesn’t seem very enlightened. Sure, a small minority of the world’s population enjoy a lot of political freedoms and live in material abundance, but what’s the value of that if the majority has to put up with poverty, exploitation, and oppression—things often sanctioned by Western governments so as to keep their privileges and influence in the world.

And then, if we look at indigenous societies from around the world, contemporary and historical (before the Europeans killed them off), and even ancient farming communities, we find that people lived in far more egalitarian and democratic societies than even the most developed Western countries today.

What’s your reply to that?

HF: Ah, well done, sounds like someone has been reading David Graeber and David Wengrow’s latest book The Dawn of Everything. All of the above critiques will be addressed in this book, so don’t worry. But I can briefly reply to the two basic propositions you’re questioning: 1) the European origins of the Modern world, and 2) that modernity led to moral progress.

If we take the first objection, it’s true that modernity is not an inherently European phenomenon. But it’s not Asian, African, or native American either. Modernity emerged from the meeting between cultures, from the exchange and cross-pollination of memes from all around the world—the Europeans were just the ones to establish the global world system in which all of this took place. And since they then became the ones located at the center of this huge world-encompassing network, they were also the ones to reap the greatest benefits from it and thus become the ones to make the transition to the Modern metameme first. We’ll return to this topic in the chapter on modernity.

It’s also true that we can find elements that are ostensibly modern from different parts of the world before the modern era. There’s rational meritocratic bureaucracy established by the Qin and Han dynasties in China; you have the Islamic Golden Age which gave rise to a number of secular philosophers and natural scientists, for instance Ibn al-Haytham who was a significant figure in the history of the scientific method and by many considered the “world’s first true scientist”; and you have various deliberative and consensus-driven, and in a way democratic, forms of governance among pre-Columbian American societies. These are all impressive accomplishments. But we’re merely talking about proto-modern elements that didn’t quite make it all the way, and didn’t lead to the emergence of truly Modern societies.

Q: Not so fast, old man. You can’t just dismiss everything that doesn’t fit into your model by throwing a “proto-” prefix in front of it. You need to argue what exactly it is that doesn’t make them fully modern.

HF: Fair enough.

Being a precursor doesn’t suffice to be labeled modern; the meme in question needs to develop into a form that becomes part and parcel of the overall metameme: that is to say, many things have to interconnect and reinforce one and the same underlying principles, ones that in turn define the core of the metameme at hand.

The principles of double-entry bookkeeping and linear perspective, for instance, haven’t changed since they first occurred back in the Renaissance; and the scientific method as it was formulated 400 years ago is still the first thing any aspiring scientist has to learn to this day. Yes, Ibn al-Haytham did emphasize the importance of experimentation, but he did not formulate the scientific method. And neither did Aristotle, who likewise used inductions from observations to infer general principles.

For something to be termed modern, it also needs to be consistent with the overall logic of the Modern metameme. If we take the Chinese state bureaucracy, which they pioneered around 200 BC, almost 2000 years before anything similar appeared in Europe, it was ostensibly modern in the way it favored meritocratic and rational principles of governance, but—and this is a big but—it remained inherently Faustian in the way it was constructed along the lines of absolutist governance. No Montesquieuian division of powers existed at the time, which, after all, is at the core of Modern governance, no references to “the people” as the ultimate sovereign.

Certainly, the way in which Native Americans managed to make decisions by gathering the community and deliberating their way to consensus can be interpreted as democratic, and to some extent, even more democratic than what we have today. But the capacity to sit down in a large group and have a well-reasoned conversation about what to do as a community is not enough to qualify as being a Modern democracy. There needs to be a clear conceptual and institutional distinction between the entity that rules—the demos—the people or source of power—and the thing that they rule by and through—the state. And there needs to be a clearly demarcated public sphere, a civil society, that through the free exchange of information enables the formation and exchange of opinions about matters related to the governing of the state. Neither of these were present before the Modern era. 

Likewise, even lively markets—such as the medieval Arab world—that lack the institutional and system-wide frameworks specific to capitalism (accounting, the firm, stock markets, central banks, banking, free enterprise and wage labor, means to mass-communicate marketing, private ownership of land and factories, intellectual property, trade law, consumer law, antitrust law, regulated bankruptcy, brigand violence under control by police force, checks to balance government partiality on the markets, wide middle class with consumer markets geared to them…) aren’t in and of themselves Modern in the sense we’re discussing here. Lively markets have existed before what can stringently be called modernity. Capitalism, in its different guises, is an inherent element of the Modern metameme. Market economies at large, is not necessarily so.

As shall be discussed in the chapter on the Modern metameme, there is an underlying theme that runs through all things truly Modern: the principle of “intersubjective verification”. This holds true from the “correct” perspective 3D painting, to the scientific method, to the principles of democratic governance, to the functioning of capitalist markets. But we’re getting way ahead of ourselves.

For now, let us simply note that we can always find precursors to and similarities with a metameme, like Modernity, but that we need to confirm that the studied phenomenon (say, market economies) has evolved into a mature enough form so that on a fundamental level it’s more or less identical to later expressions of the meme, and we need to look at how well it fits into the overall memetic structure and logic of the metameme we’d like to associate it with. 

Q: But what about moral progress? Sure, modernity gave us a lot of advances that made our lives more comfortable, but I would still argue that it’s a dubious claim to say that we’ve made much moral progress as a species.

HF: People are often willing to overturn the whole idea of progress, that there are stages of development, because we are still to see the ethical implications of a new metameme. So please allow me to return to the proposition that “morality always comes last”. I truly believe it can help make sense of the common confusion about progress and ethics.

Let’s take a short break and I’ll give you an example. Do you want anything from the bar?

***

HF: The way our attitudes towards homosexuality have changed over the years is a really good example of how slow the development of a society’s common morality is, how slow the norm system is to change.

Denmark was one of the first countries to decriminalize consensual same-sex sexual activities back in 1933, with Sweden following suit in 1944. Sweden removed homosexuality from their list of mental diseases in 1979, and Denmark in 1981. But this doesn’t mean that people generally thought it was completely acceptable to be gay in progressive Sweden or Denmark back in the 1980s and 1990s. Calling someone “gay”, or any associated term, was generally considered an insult back then—and a common one indeed. In the 1980s, most people thought gay people, especially gay men, were kind of disgusting and that there was something wrong with them—but that they should still be tolerated as long as they “kept it to their bedrooms”. Throughout the ’90s, as bigotry and narrowmindedness gradually went out of fashion, homosexuality instead became this kind of joke: it was okay to be gay, “if that’s how you want to live your life”, but it was still considered kind of silly and weird. Only quite recently did we reach a point where it’s no longer considered okay to dislike gay people and make jokes about them. 

You see, first it took a couple of centuries until politicians took the full consequences of the Enlightenment ideas that everyone is created equal and that people should be free to do whatever they want as long as they don’t harm others. And then, almost a century after homosexuality was decriminalized, we finally reached a point where homophobia, rather than homophilia, is considered morally appalling.

The counterculture of the 1960s 1970s also serves to illustrate this developmental “skewness” when it comes to moral progress. Many associate the “hippie era”, the time in which the boomer generation came of age, with that of the Postmodern metameme coming online. This is only half true. Yes, the hippies are a Postmodern phenomenon, but the things in that era that actually succeeded, such as the civil rights movement, women’s movement, and the sexual revolution, were not Postmodern, but inherently Modern. Equal rights for women, ethnic minorities and gays, and the freedom to have consensual premarital sex, are essentially expressions of the modern Enlightenment ethics. Everyone’s created equal and do what you want as long as you don’t hurt others, you know. The things the hippies and other counterculture proponents failed with, such as ecological living, second wave feminism, communes, and psychedelics, remained fringe phenomena exactly because they require a postmodern morality code in order to enter the mainstream. It’s only recently that these things have begun to become mainstream, exactly because it’s only now that we have a significant proportion of the population gravitating towards postmodern values.

Q: I see, so because of this developmental skewness, what we think of as modern is oftentimes postmodern—and the other way around. Since the two metamemes overlap, with some elements of the former emerging at the same time as elements of the latter, it’s difficult not to accidentally mix them up.

That of course asks the questions: when did the world get postmodern then, or, are we done becoming postmodern? 

HF: We have been in the process of becoming postmodern for a while now, but postmodernism is obviously far more unfinished than modernism. Here’s a rough timeline:

  • Postmodern art: William Blake’s “Newton” from 1795 is a good example of an early Postmodern artwork in the way that it depicts the renowned scientist Isaac Newton in a crouched position fully absorbed by the rigid rules of his compass while ignoring the colorful rocks behind him, symbolizing a narrow and blind focus on scientific principles.
    The Romanticism period in many ways constitutes the earliest expression of the Postmodern metameme, as its “fantasy-like” art deliberately works upon the background of Modern photorealism and rationality, enhancing it to reenchant reality and to create new connection where Postfaustian wholeness has been severed by modernity, by science, by Enlightenment.
  • Postmodern science and philosophy: From chemistry and biology upending much of the mechanistic Newtonian worldview, to Darwinian evolution introducing the earliest form of “chaos theory” to social sciences being born short after—sociology in general and Marxism in particular—to philosophy soon taking up arms against rationalism in the guise of first Schopenhauer, then Nietzsche, and then Freud, laying the foundations for the dominance of Postmodern thinking throughout the 20th century.
  • Postmodern entrepreneurship: Early precedent in the consumer society of 1920’s USA, abrupted by the depression and World War 2, only to go ahead on full steam after that: images and intellectual property now drive the economy. Marketing, movies, PR, product placement, stock market booms based on expectation-management campaigns (think Tesla’s wealth despite its bad business, etc.) increasingly become the organizing principle of the economy after the 1950s.
  • Postmodern politics: After the Cold War. We have the green movement, the queer movement, the spread of discrimination laws, a steep increase in the interest in radical or deliberative democracy—it’s still to fully blossom (but the development can always be interrupted by e.g. climate crisis or other shocks to the world system).
  • Postmodern morality: Just getting started. To this day, even in the most progressive countries in the world, only a minority subscribe to postmodern values. In a country like Denmark or Sweden, maybe around 20%, similar to that of California, New York City, or Berlin.

In the graph below you can see how the skewed development of the metamemes wax and wane and weave into each other.

As you can see, development is skewed. The metamemes overlap. That’s why you can’t just “catch them in time”. You have to understand what they truly are. But once you have them sorted out and clearly understood, you can study expressions of them, and indeed how they can explain much of the events in history and how these are interpreted.

HF: As you can see above, the middle of a metameme’s developmental sequence, step three entrepreneurship, is simultaneously the beginning, step one art, of the following metameme, while at the same time the end, step five morality, of the preceding one. As such, the time in which the morality of the Modern metameme finally became dominant, the 1960s – ‘70s, is simultaneously the time of the great postmodern “entrepreneurial” projects starting off, such as critical theory, postcolonialism, queer feminism, and environmental protectionism—which only recently have entered mainstream politics and today are in the process of changing the common norm system. Interestingly enough, the same period has also fostered the early beginnings of metamodernism, within the art world from the 1970s (at least vaguely so, if you know where to look), in philosophy in the 1990’s (most prominently, perhaps, integral philosophy), and most recently in entrepreneurship (metamodern activists, yay). Don’t worry about it, I’ll provide you a guide to the metamodern metameme towards the end of this book. For now, I just want you to get an understanding of the developmental “skewness” and how it manifested in recent developments.

Q: What about the Postfaustian metameme? If we are to be consistent, the 1800’s, the period where we see the emergence of Modern entrepreneurship and Postmodern art, would also have been the time of Postfaustian morality, right?

It ostensibly appears a bit weird if that was actually the case, however, given how far removed the 1800’s were from the Christian medieval ethos centuries earlier, but that’s what the model implies if we were to add the Postfaustian metameme into the model. 

How do you explain that?

HF: You’re absolutely right. I omitted the postfaustian metameme to prevent the illustration from becoming too cluttered. But yes, the 1800’s were in fact the period, in the West that is, when the Postfaustian norm system, in this particular case Christian morality, became dominant among the wider populace.

I know what you’re thinking, weren’t the medieval period, the so-called “dark ages”, the period in which people were the most religious? Weren’t the preceding period, from the early modern period and onwards, characterized by increasing secularization and rationality—culminating with Nietzsche in the late 1800’s, the very same century that’s considered the peak of Postfaustian morality, when he declared God dead?

But hear me out. The idea that people were super duper Christian back in medieval Europe is only half true. Sure, almost everyone identified as Christian, but to a large extent they didn’t really have a choice. The Church had some, how can I say this, rather convincing methods to ensure people remembered who the only true God was. Secondly, the harsh life conditions of the period, coupled with the widespread ignorance and almost non-existing literacy, made the idea of divine salvation a very compelling story to most people. But—and this is a big but—that doesn’t mean that they automatically internalized the Christian moral codes and started following them from the purity of their hearts. They couldn’t even read the damn Bible, or Quran, or even Torah (even if Jewish literacy rates were a bit higher). The fear of going to hell seems to have been the principal moral consideration among common folks. And if you study the truly medieval times, before the Reformation, the followership of Catholicism was in practice littered with magical thinking, saint worship, superstitions, residuals of pagan worship, and folk wisdoms that didn’t really have much to do with universalist top-down one-unifying-principle Postfaustian religion.

That started to change in the West in the 1800s. This period is not only characterized by rapid industrialization; it’s also the age of countless Christian revival movements and pentecostalism. This significantly overlapped with humanitarian organizations like the Salvation Army and the Red Cross, and not least the (anti-slavery) abolitionist movement, within which Christian ethics and beliefs were the driving force.

Think about it: Is slavery okay from the perspective of an all-seeing and all-loving God that sees the equality of everyone’s soul—i.e. the Postfaustian basis of morality? No, not by any stretch of the imagination. Then why does it take from 500 BCE to 1865 CE to really win the fight over slavery? Because art comes first, morality comes last, that’s why. It takes time for a metameme’s values to fully take hold in the majority population.

It’s clear that it was only because of the material abundance created by the Modern metameme that the Christians could finally get serious about the whole tending the flock and loving thy neighbor thing. Similarly, the Postmodern social justice ethics only seems feasible once the metamodernists get started building that listening society, as described in my book with the same title. But that’s another story. Let’s get back on track.

Q: Alright, I think I get what you’re trying to say now. I have a few more questions, and I still think you’re wrong, but let’s take a short break before the bar closes.

On Coordination Engines and Purity Generators

Q: There’s something in your model that’s confusing me. You say that philosophy always comes before economics, or “entrepreneurship” as you call it in your five-step model, but capitalism, which is this quintessential modern economic innovation, started around the same time as the Renaissance. This is centuries prior to the scientific revolution and the first modern philosophy, step two according to your model, and around the same time as the first modern artworks, step one according to you.

Admittedly, it feels good claiming that art and philosophy always come first, but the historical materialism of the Marxists still seems to hold sway on this one: real, material conditions set the stage for human life and culture. Sure, the Industrial Revolution comes after the Renaissance and the Scientific Revolution, but isn’t that just an extension of modern capitalism, a logic born in the late Middle Ages?

HF: You’re absolutely right that 1) capitalism is a core innovation of the Modern metameme (capitalism is, after all, the first step of its coordination engine), and that 2) the beginnings of capitalism can be traced further back than most other modern developments. This does not, however, disprove the developmental sequence in which entrepreneurship comes in third after art and philosophy. 

Consider this: The kind of capitalism, or more specifically, the elements of capitalism that emerged in Northern Italy during the Renaissance (with important inventions such as modern banking and double-entry bookkeeping, and thus the systematic tracking and optimization of “profit”) would undoubtedly go on to shape the subsequent period profoundly. Yet, it wasn’t before the 18th-19th centuries that a society emerged we would normally call capitalistic. Before that time, most of the economy remained rural and largely unmonetized. Landed nobles, not capitalists, were the ones setting the pace of economic life prior to the Industrial Revolution. It also took a few centuries for some of the other key components of capitalism to appear, such as central banks, corporations, and stock exchanges (all in the 1600s). As such, it’s only when all of these elements (modern banking practices, double-entry bookkeeping, national central banks, corporations, stock exchanges, fossil fuels, steam engines, industrial mass production) come together that we see the emergence of something we can call modern entrepreneurship.

Q: Well, it’s not like modern art was fully developed when it first appeared in the Renaissance either. Everything has a beginning, and what emerged in Northern Italy in the late middle ages would eventually develop into industrial capitalism. Seems like you’re cherry-picking to make it all fit with your little homemade five-step model here?

HF: When I put entrepreneurship in the middle of the five-step developmental sequence it’s because it’s here that we see the emergence of an entirely new kind of economic actor. In regards to the Modern metameme it’s the industrial capitalist, who’s a very different fella than the mercantilist trader who dominated the preceding era (and in many ways have more in common with the merchants of the pre capitalist period). It’s when capitalism is finally coupled with mechanized industrialism that we get a truly modern economy and society. This is a rather conventional view by the way. Most historians agree on calling the era before the Industrial Revolution “the early modern period”, and it’s only in the 19th and 20th centuries that we start having something sociologists call modern societies.

In regards to the Faustian metameme, however, the conventional view is to compare the Industrial Revolution with the Agricultural Revolution. But here it would actually be more pertinent to compare the emergence of agriculture with the emergence of early capitalism. You see, the agricultural revolution happened about 12 000 years ago, but that doesn’t mean that a completely different society emerged instantaneously, you know, with cities, pyramids, pharaohs, standing armies, and all that jazz we associate with the Faustian metameme. In fact, the Agricultural Revolution wasn’t as much of a revolution but rather a relatively slow and incremental process with many ups and downs. For thousands of years people were still hunting and gathering while complementing their diets with a little farming on the side, and there’s plenty of evidence that people were going in and out of farming depending on the circumstances. It’s only around 4000 BCE that we see the first agrarian civilizations crop up; and only then does the full Faustian coordination engine start humming.

Q: Ah, you’re referring to the two-step model from Outcompeting Capitalism that you can read on the Metamoderna website?

HF: Yes I am. If you’ll allow me to elaborate.

Both the Faustian and Modern coordination engines developed in two steps. If we start with the Faustian coordination engine, step one is the agricultural revolution per se: This initial step revolves around the management, investment, and timing of the surplus energy of the natural world.

Agriculture is thus the management of nature.

What’s being coordinated here is of course seeds and animals (with soil and season). Instead of immediately consuming these natural resources, extra labor energy is put into managing them in such a way as to gain a greater yield the coming harvest. 

Investing surplus today to reap a profit in the future? The logic here is very similar to that of capitalism, don’t you think? We’ll come back to this.

Step two of the Faustian coordination engine is the emergence of state-like structures or “civilizations”. This step revolves around the exploitation of a new energy source: human bodies. Humans can be accessed and accumulated in increasing numbers because agriculture feeds enough of them on a small enough area and soon enough keeps them in place (they gradually lose their ability to go back to hunt and forage, or at least all of them cannot just disperse into the wilderness and survive).

Now, as long as there have been humans, some have exploited others for their labor. What I mean with human bodies as a new exploitable energy source is the way in which large agricultural societies manage to create new societal functions and strata from the surplus production of farmers and herders.

This is where we see the emergence of an increasingly diverse and hierarchical division of labor, with full-time warriors, scribes, craftsmen, merchants, and so on. Suddenly we get big cities with temples and monuments, and of course, kings and queens. And that thing we’re all a little less proud of: slavery, concubines and prostitutes included. All the things we have later chosen to call civilization.

“Civilization” is thus the exploitation of surplus energy from human bodies.

When these two elements, agriculture and civilization, start converging, that’s when we have the emergence of the Faustian engine of coordination. It starts coordinating nature for increased food yields, and then bringing more and more human bodies under its control.

***

Like the Faustian coordination engine, the Modern one also emerged in two steps.

Step one is the emergence of capitalism: This initial step revolves around the management, investment and timing of the surplus energy of the human world.

Can you see the similarity with the first step of the Faustian coordination engine? Here, however, it’s the surplus energy of the human world instead of the natural world that’s being managed and coordinated over space and time. And the surplus energy we’re talking about here is, of course, labor.

Capitalism is thus the management of human labor.

Investing the surplus of human labor into new, more productive, activities is basically the core of capitalism—and that goes whether it is the state or a private entrepreneur who does it. (This means, by the way, that Soviet communism wasn’t less “capitalist” than its counterpart in the West, hence it has often been termed “state capitalism”. More on that later.) You invest people’s work into some time-saving activity, and that creates more work hours you can invest into more time-saving. And, boom, in a blink of historical time, you get today’s swelling world of global capitalism.

We need to note that economic profit (unlike accounting profit), in this sense, was something entirely new that capitalism brought to the table. With this perspective, we can see what economic profit really is, what GDP growth is: you manage people’s time schedules, and voilà, you can get more “man power” out of the same unit of time! That’s what bookkeeping and banking and companies enabled.

The Faustian coordination engine never managed to effectively and consistently invest its surplus labor so that you could get more out of the same time unit. It merely exploited what was currently available through plunder or taxation (which is often more or less the same)—and then it brought more land and human bodies under its control by controlling bigger armies.

If the elites had any extra money (which is, essentially, surplus labor) they didn’t use for conquest or defense, it often just got locked away in treasure chests. And when it finally got used, it was rarely invested in new productive measures, but merely spent on embellishment and luxury items or to build big castles or pyramids and so on; it basically went to waste­—according to the logic of capitalism. But when the Dutch of the 1600s managed to pool their resources, and joint risk, into companies (the first of their kind), they created social machines with delicate mechanisms to generate increased economic growth by the diligent management and re-investment of human time and effort.

Money in a mattress doesn’t do anything. Put it in a company and it does tremendous things, for better or worse.

This leads us to the next step.

Step two is the Industrial Revolution: This step revolves around the exploitation of a new energy source: fossil fuels, mainly. 

The second step of the development of the Modern coordination engine is also, as you may have noticed, similar to the second step of the Faustian one. But rather than a human energy source, this time it’s a natural energy source—so we’re seeing an exact reversal of the nature-human sequence of the Faustian metameme.

Industrialism is thus the exploitation of surplus energy from the natural world.

Just as much as the second step of the Faustian coordination engine revolved around developing all the intricate social and technical mechanisms to exploit the human energy source, the industrial step of the Modern metameme is about developing and mastering all the mechanical devices and means of distribution to exploit the energy of fossil fuels as efficiently as possible.

Only after the Industrial Revolution do we see the emergence of truly modern societies. It’s when the social logic of capitalism finally converges with the technical expertise to access the hitherto untapped potential of millions of years of solar energy trapped in the ground that we see this explosion that leads to the assembly line, women’s suffrage, mass literacy, the internet, plastic Barbie dolls, and the atom bomb.

***

Q: Ah, I see. Step one (agriculture in the case of the Faustian, and capitalism in the case of the Modern metameme) emerges, in its earliest forms, around the same time as the first artistic elements of their respective metamemes; but it’s only with step two, when a number of innovations all come together, that we see the full brunt of the new metameme.

Step two, in your two-step coordination engine model, is thus step three entrepreneurship, in your five-step art-comes-first-morality-comes-last model. Right? Confusing, but I think I get it. You need to work on your terminology though.

So what about the Postfaustian and Postmodern metamemes? Because they’re “soft” metamemes they don’t give rise to a new engine of coordination, but what happens when they reach the third entrepreneurship step in your five-step model then? What kind of entrepreneurship corresponds to the agriculture/civilization and capitalism/industrialism of the hard metamemes? I can see that soft metamemes would have their 1) art, their 2) philosophy and science, their 4) politics, and their 5) norms. But their 3) economic and technological mechanisms to restructure society?

HF: It’s correctly understood that soft metamemes don’t bring about any substantial changes to the way in which the economy works. And even if technological advances do occur every now and then, even during the so-called “dark ages”, it hardly has anything to do with the Postfaustian metameme as such. (I mean, there doesn’t seem to be anything preventing a Faustian society like the Romans, who were capable at building aqueducts and using concrete, from inventing the windmill or the stirrup, both medieval inventions. In an alternative timeline, I can’t see why it couldn’t have happened.)

But soft metamemes bring about new “purification generators”, remember? So if the entrepreneurial third step of the hard metamemes is the coming online of the coordination engine, the corresponding step for the soft metamemes is the consolidation of the purification generator. This is when the ethos of the emerging soft metamemes make their way into new powerful institutions, which in turn begin reshaping norm systems, behaviors, and relations across society. 

In the case of the Postfaustian metameme, this consolidation and institutionalization started happening towards the end of the Roman Empire with the establishment of the Roman Catholic Church. If you compare Roman times with the moral economy of the Middle Ages, for instance, it’s clear that the pre-Christian Romans were technologically comparable to the medieval period (give or take an aqueduct or a windmill), but their ethics were, shall we say, of a cruder kind. You can see a similar dynamic in non-European cultures, like the Islamic world and China, when these become permeated by postfaustian Axial Age religions and philosophies during the first millennium AD.

The so-called “righteous rebels” of the Axial Age enter the mainstream, to use a contemporary phrase, at a stage when civilization reaches a certain level of maturity (which is often followed by a collapse, as with the Roman and Han empires), and thereafter they move into positions of power. In and around the circles of power they manage to shape the instruments of governance to some degree, but they certainly also become shaped by the very same power structures that they initially rebelled against.

The Postmodern metameme follows a similar pattern. It’s when capitalism enters its late-stage form with the onset of modern consumer society during the second half of the 20th century that we see the rise of postmodernism’s righteous rebels and affiliated “churches” such as queer-feminism, post-colonialism, and environmental protection. These rebels can be said to constitute a new “priesthood”, also known as the inherently postmodern invention of the “intellectual”, whose mission it is to discipline and correct those unfortunate souls who still gravitate towards the earlier value memes (in this case the term “value meme” is more suitable than metameme). 

Critics will point out that the “wokeism” and “political correctness” carried out by these so-called “social justice warriors” are elitist instruments of control, while advocates of anti-racism, feminism, and environmental protection will argue that “speaking out” against injustices is the only way to “raise awareness” around critical issues. But despite the “underdog” identity of most of these critics of modern society, it’s becoming more and more evident that the critical postmodern ideologies that emerged in the 1960’s and ‘70’s to a great extent have entered the mainstream and that governments, and even companies, have adopted many of these ideas, at least nominally.

The power pomos are here to stay, and they are becoming increasingly intimate with the governing control structures of Modern society—whether they’ll admit it or not.

On Emotional Regimes and Information Technologies

HF: So, just to quickly summarize: Step three entrepreneurship, the middle of the art-comes-first-morality-comes-last model, is in many ways “the peak” of a metameme since this is when the coordination engines of the hard metamemes start humming, and when the purification generators of the soft metamemes get consolidated and institutionalized.

So, in the same way that the Faustian equivalent of the Modern industrial capitalists are the great empire builders of the ancient world; the Postfaustian equivalent of the Postmodern social movements are the religious institutions of the medieval world.

Any further questions?

Q: Yes. I’d like to know if there are any specific instruments or mechanisms with which the metamemes shape social relations and affect people’s behavior? I mean, there must be some new social technologies emerging that make it possible to go from one stage to the other.

HF: Yes. If you remember the emotional regimes, aka. The Spectrum of Judgment, from my previous book Nordic Ideology, you’ll know that we’ve progressed from the fear regime, over the guilt regime, shame regime, and finally to the slave morality regime of today. Each of these, as you can guess, correspond to one of the metamemes: 

With the Faustian metameme it’s clear that the predominant emotional regime to regulate people’s behaviors is fear—if you don’t do what you’re told, you get tortured or killed, as simple as that. 

With the Postfaustian metameme a more subtle emotion takes the forefront, namely guilt—you owe it to God and the community and common decency to do what you’re told, otherwise you’re a bad person and you’ll be excommunicated.

With the Modern metameme the emotional regime becomes even more subtle as the emotion that’s manipulated to make people comply is shame—you can do what you want, but if you want certain things, and if you don’t do things in a certain way, you’re a disgusting person and no one’s gonna like you.

And finally, with postmodernism, the most subtle emotional regime of them all, slave morality—you can do what you want, want what you want, be who you are, be weird and kinky, unique and full of faults, but above all, do NEVER EVER believe you’re better than anyone else, that you’re the hero, that you have something out of the ordinary to offer the world. Be humble, or no one will take you seriously.

Don’t worry, I’ll go into detail with each of these in the following chapters. For now I just want to show you that they exist.

***

HF: Another important aspect of the development of metamemes are the information technologies that fuel their growth and propel them forward. These technologies are in fact so important that the metamemes could barely exist without them, and most definitely wouldn’t allow for any further development beyond a very early proto stage.

Here they are:

  1. Archaic: Simple spoken language.
  2. Animist: Abstract spoken language, and images and sculptures that represent what they look like.
  3. Faustian: Images that represent something else than what they look like: symbols for simple written messages and basic accounting.
  4. Postfaustian: Writing in abstracted texts, such as literature and algebra (not just inscriptions on graves and monuments).
  5. Modern: Printed texts (printing press, standardized alphabet and spelling, “codex” books, newspapers, mass distribution).
  6. Postmodern: Mass Media: Transferred images and sounds (printed images and photographs in magazines, books and newspapers, gramophone records, radio, cinema, television, “simulacra” en masse).

I’m sure you can see the logic of what’s going on here. Obviously, writing was a prerequisite for running the Faustian civilizations of yore. And it’s clear that the Postfaustian philosophies, wisdom traditions and world religions of the Axial Age wouldn’t have been possible without literature. In fact, it’s quite possible that the Axial Age emerged as a direct result of writing morphing into literature, giving thinkers and social critics a medium to express their ideas and engage in exchanges with each other over longer distances in time and space.

In the same vein it’s pretty obvious that modern philosophy and the scientific revolution wouldn’t have taken off without the printing press. Moreover, neither would the Reformation which by many is considered an important stepping stone towards modernity. A century before Luther attempted to reform the Catholic Church, Jan Hus tried something similar. In the latter case, the revolt didn’t spread out of Hus’ home province of Bohemia, in the former, aided by cheaply printed pamphlets of Luther’s 95 theses, the critique of the Catholic Church reached most of Europe and the new protestant faith spread like wildfire in Northern and Central Europe. Surely, the printing press began functioning like a catalyst for the spread of ideas as it enabled people with few means to take part in intellectual and political life.

Q: So what we’re dealing with here is a continuous democratization of information, which can be seen as a kind of backengine to much of the emancipatory developments of history, right?

HF: Not quite. The way in which new information technologies have eroded existing powerbases control and monopolies on information is definitely an important development that has shaped and is shaping history. But we need to keep in mind that the proliferation of new and more efficient information technologies is not only leading to emancipation and social progress. After all, Radio brought Hitler to power, and Twitter definitely played a crucial role in the election of Trump back in 2016. In fact, it seems like the rule rather than the exception, that whenever a new information technology enters the picture, it initially causes great disruptions which lead to more reactionary and violent setbacks than progressive emancipatory advances.

If we take the printing press, for example, it surely made the Scientific Revolution and the subsequent Enlightenment period possible—but only after 150 years of bloody religious warfare. And if the printing press gave us religious wars, the internet seems to have given us identity wars.

Just think about it. Has the internet created any of those anarchistic green blockchain utopias progressives are dreaming of these days? Not really, right? But it gave us ISIS and arguably Trump, along with all those alt-righters, militant incels, and flat earthers.

These are all examples of developmental imbalances.

***

HF: This is the end. The end of the beginning of this book. By now you should have an overview of the theoretical framework of the six hidden patterns. Below you can see a table containing the metamemes between the Animist and the Metamodern ones and their respective emotional regimes, information technologies, and coordination engine/purification generators:

Faustian Postfaustian Modern Postmodern
Step three:
Entrepreneurship
New coordination engine: Agrarian Civilization New purification generator: Universal religions and philosophies New Coordination engine: Capitalist Industrialism New purification generator: Critical theory, public intellectuals, social justice movements
Emotional Regime Fear Guilt Shame Sklavenmoral
Information Tech Writing Literature Printing Press Electronic Mass Media

 

Q: But what about the internet? You mentioned radio and tv, but is there a reason you didn’t mention the internet?

HF: Yes, that was intentional. The internet is the information technology that’s making our world metamodern. That, however, will be a topic discussed in the last chapter of the book. Now, it’s time to wind the clock all the way back to our earliest history when rain dance conquered the world. Up next: The Animist metameme.

A webinar on the topic of world history and the six metamemes will be held this autumn, four weekends in a row November 2 – 25. More details about the course can be found here.

Hanzi Freinacht is a political philosopher, historian, and sociologist, author of ‘The Listening Society’, ‘Nordic Ideology’ and ’12 Commandments’. Much of his time is spent alone in the Swiss Alps. You can follow Hanzi on Facebook, Twitter, and Medium, and you can speed up the process of new metamodern content reaching the world by making a donation to Hanzi here.

The 6 Hidden Patterns of History: Introduction

“Stage theory…

Is BS.

Always was.

And it is colonial as hell.”

—Nora Bateson

 

The following is an extract of the introduction chapter from Hanzi Freinacht’s unpublished book ‘The 6 Hidden Patterns of History: A Metamodern Guide to World History’. The book is not coming out anytime soon, but a webinar on the topic of world history and the six metamemes will be held this autumn, four weekends in a row November 2 – 25. More details about the course can be found here.

Q: Okay Hanzi, let’s get right at it. You claim to have discovered these patterns that explain much of world history—“metamemes” you call them.

But when I look at your theory it seems like just another wildly speculative “stage model”, where one stage of society builds upon another—and civilization “rises” to new heights. This is denigrating the richness of history, reducing human experience, flattening cultures past and present. Cultural history is much more than that.

Over and over again, history has taught us that, in the end, every such grandiose metanarrative comes crashing down under the weight of its own incongruities. How can you be sure that your model eventually won’t go down like all the rest?

HF: Hopefully, my model will go down some day. It will be obsolete, proven incorrect. If not, it would indicate that humanity had ceased improving upon her models of reality, and that would be bad news. I sincerely hope that all the errors I’ve made will be discovered, and that my model will be replaced by better ones. For now, however, I’m convinced this model is one of the best currently available metanarratives about world history.

But alright, I sense you don’t like the very act of creating what I call “metanarratives”, or any versions of grand histories. So let me stay a moment on that topic.

A metanarrative is “a narrative about narratives”; it’s a wider story that connects the different stories around you. These can be the stories of nations, of dynasties, of civilizations, the stories of technological progress, the stories of oppression and liberation, the stories of genders, of humans and the environment, and so forth. A metanarrative is a way of organizing and interconnecting the different accounts of the world and how it works, and—in the case of history—what actually happened. There are many stories about world history, but how do these fit together, if at all? A metanarrative shows how the different ways we have been taught to “listen to the melodies of history” form a larger whole, one that is not just a jumble of contradictions.

Metanarratives are a bit like world maps; they don’t show a lot of detail and are rather inaccurate when you zoom in, but they are still indispensable when we need an overview on a global scale. It’s alright if you don’t like my world map. But let me ask you, once you’ve seen and understood the one presented in this book: do you have a better one? Implicitly and unconsciously held maps are maps nonetheless.

But, sure, there are reasons to be suspicious of metanarratives, to be incredulous of “grand histories”.

One reason that many people are “against metanarratives” is that they feel these come with a risk of being totalizing: i.e. when you try to understand how things fit together, you also tend to squeeze everything into one and the same framework, ignoring the subtleties and details of each unique and surprising part of history, and as such metanarratives can even be used as instruments of control or the legitimization of unjust power. You force your intellect upon the richness of reality, as it were. Think Marxism and its story of how history evolves (from “primitive communism”, to slave society, to feudalism, to capitalism, to communism). Consider how it has been used as a blatant instrument of oppression. Or why not stop to consider how Western mainstream history of “increasing freedom” (so-called Whig history) still to this day serves colonial and supremacist purposes against indigenous populations, the Global South, or even against the environment and “nature itself” (that last term I use only with caution). Totalizing visions can be dangerous, even evil. Granted and agreed.

But, if you think it’s better to not use a map at all since it’s certain to have inaccuracies and one day will become obsolete, go ahead, navigate the world’s oceans without one, burn all the maps you like. For my part, if I was a 17th century sailor, I’d still prefer the crude maps of the time, sea dragons and mermaids and all, over sailing out blindly or waiting around for the GPS to be invented.

Q: Sure, if you were a 17th century sailor. But let’s bring this closer to home: If I was a respected scholar, I certainly wouldn’t risk my academic credibility by making up such far-fetched lofty “theories about everything”.

HF: Of course you wouldn’t, dear Q for Questioner. It’s much safer to merely critique, isn’t it? But there’s a word for that: cowardice. Or two words: intellectual cowardice.

People are so afraid of being told they’re wrong or that they’ve made a mistake that they’ll rather spend their entire careers making microscopic additions to existing theories—or stay on the safe side of the fence and make a career out of tackling anyone who dares saying something novel, substantial, or, Zeus forbid, comprehensive.

In my opinion that’s not only gutless and boring; it’s also as dangerous as the misuse of large perspectives, since it discourages people from taking on the important task of connecting the dots. In our days, metanarratives have gone terribly out of fashion. At the very same time, people have reported epidemic levels of confusion and loss of meaning. Maybe that’s not entirely a coincidence?

Meanwhile, humanity is facing planetary-level issues of ecology, climate, security, and technology—which are all interconnected and can arguably only be resolved together. Or at least each of the issues interacts with the others. Responding to one inevitably leads to dealing with another. But we’re disallowing ourselves from asking how the problems interconnect, because that would mean we’re doing “grand histories”, right? Well, maybe it’s time we try on some new ways to tell the big stories. Metanarratives can save lives. They can save civilizations. Or, said differently, lack of metanarratives can kill off civilizations. And take ecospheres with them. It’s happened before that civilizations drive off a cliff because their people failed to see the bigger picture they were part of. It can happen again. Actually, it is happening again.

If you want to ignore the need to gain clarity in today’s world facing multiple interconnected crises, I’ll buy you a drink and we’re done. Go stick your head in the postmodern sands of relativism. Sure, you can be the noble rebel who exposes the great Hanzi Freinacht as a dilettante and a fraud. As long as you let me say what I have to say, it’s on the house.

***

Anyhow. The thing is, whether we like the idea of metanarratives or not, we all carry around some version of a crude and incomplete world map, or “universe map”, anyway. We just do it implicitly, even unconsciously.

That is, we all have some overarching narrative about “how the world works”. And every now and then we’re in situations where we need to use our implicit homegrown maps. So why not bring them out in the open, make the maps explicit, so that we together can improve upon them, and—who knows—maybe even turn those mermaids into anatomically correct sea lions.  

Metanarratives are urgently needed since the existential problems we’re facing as a civilization can only be properly viewed from the grandest and most long-term perspective possible. We’re not looking for the biggest story just to feel important (even if it would be unwise to try to suppress the all-too-human drive for existential significance). It’s very obviously the case that events across the planet affect one another, that they are, again, interconnected. To change events means to see how they connect, how they emerge together. This requires us to somehow use and relate to “the story that connects all the different stories”.

Q: And you, Hanzi Freinacht, mean to tell us how “all things interconnect”?

HF: Maybe not how “all things interconnect”, but I am certainly outlining a model for seeing many interconnections that we would clearly otherwise miss. 

So who do I think I am to even be allowed the pursuit of such a noble goal?

Well, who is anyone to take up such a task? What authority could we possibly defer to? I guess we’ll just have to make do with limited, wounded, mediocre people who pretend to be great philosophers, and then scrutinize their work.

Anybody really has the right to take a shot at it, don’t you think? Or should we just abstain from any discussion about the overall development of global civilization? What kind of humility would that be—one that silences perhaps the most important discussion we can have?

***

HF: Let’s get back to the main question: the resistance to grand narratives in general, and stage theories in particular.

I think this widespread and persistent resistance to stage theory is as relatable as it is regrettable. If you examine it closely and attentively, it actually dissolves into thin air. Let me walk you through this argument step by step.

First of all, everyone seems to be fine with two-stage models. This sounds strange, but is very obviously the case if you stop and look around. Most people don’t think of themselves as stage theorists when they suggest or employ models with only two stages. But, truth be told, every time you come up with some version of the idea that “the old way of doing things is mechanical, hierarchical, and bureaucratic, but now there’s this new way of doing things that’s organic, egalitarian, and creative” (this is a very common one these days, perhaps even the dominant model), you have inadvertently created a stage model, and a model that’s normatively hierarchical with the later stage considered at least somehow “better” and more advanced than the former, and it is a model in which people are thought to need to grow out of, or wake up from, the mechanistic view and “realize” the ecological/organic/mycelial one.

People are doing two-stage models all the time—and no one is complaining: The notion that we’ve gone from the age of the nation state to that of a global world order. No one blinks an eye. That we’ve transitioned from an industrial economy to an information economy. That we’ve gone from monarchy to liberal democracy. Conventional wisdom. Or we can go on to two-stage models that are widely accepted in academia if not by the public at large: That we have gone from mechanic to organic solidarity (in Durkheim’s classical sociology). That we’ve gone from “mode 1” to “mode 2” knowledge production (a thing that became big in the sociology of science in the 1990s). That after patriarchy comes a society emancipated through feminist critique. That after colonialism comes a postcolonial heritage.

It’s an interesting thing to note, isn’t it? People are dire opponents of stage theories. But they still subscribe to and even propose two-stage theories—just as long as they can hide that it’s actually a stage theory. So, underneath the resistance, people actually are not opponents of stage theory. Scratch its surface and the resistance dissolves in your grip.

Three stages is a bit more controversial, though. The privilege to create three stage models seems to be reserved for established geniuses. Jürgen Habermas, for example, who’s widely considered the world’s greatest living social theorist, uses a three-stage model to describe the transition from a traditional to a modern society. Marx and Engels claimed, in the part of their theory people tend to talk about, that we’ve gone from feudalism, to capitalism, and soon communism. And then of course there’s Hegel’s famous dialectics, popularized as the “thesis–antithesis–synthesis” model—a three-stage model. (Fichte actually came up with that one, but it is mostly associated with Hegel.)

But more than three stagesthat’s heresy! You lose all credibility and are condemned to wander the desert together with all those obscene adult development theorists and new age folks.

Q: Well, maybe there’s a good reason for this. Maybe it’s because the credibility of a model diminishes exponentially with each stage added. If Habermas, an esteemed professor of philosophy and sociology, spent a large part of his career carefully elaborating for three stages, with thousands of pages and many peer-reviewed articles to back up his claims, it quite honestly appears a bit frivolous when you pop out of nowhere with—judging from the title of this book—six new shiny stages that you just pulled out of your ass.

HF: I understand your concern. I fully agree that there are a great too many stage models out there conjured up by folks who seem to have catched the stage theory flu and now want to be a pioneer of “humanity’s next step” by making their own unique stage model, and, may god have mercy on their souls, by adding higher and higher stages to existing models (and by doing so implying that they themselves must represent a super high stage to have discovered these stages)—a practice I call “stage stacking”. Most of these models are in my opinion not very well-founded and the world would probably be better off without them.

But the model I’m going to present, and the stages in particular, are considerably more well-anchored in today’s academic conventions than you may have been led to believe. So before we move on, allow me to first—only impressionistically (simplifying to the degree that it’s downright incorrect, but gets us a snapshot, a picture we will be able to tear down and then rebuild as this book progresses)—introduce the six metamemes:

  1. Animist: Hunter gatherers.
  2. Faustian: Early agrarian civilization.
  3. Post-faustian: Axial-age moral religions and philosophies.
  4. Modern: Industrial and capitalist civilization.
  5. Post-modern: Postcolonial, queer, and environmental critique of modern society.
  6. Metamodern: The new emerging metameme based on the cultural logic of the Internet.

Don’t let the introduction of new terms such as “metameme” or the unfamiliar names of some of the stages confuse you.

But, now, let me point out that what I am doing is a lot less controversial or far-fetched than it may first appear.

For this book, my point of departure is actually the century-old academic discussion on modernity (stage 4), which, since the late 1970s, has been accompanied by “the postmodern” (stage 5), i.e. the idea that something comes after modernity, something inherently different from our classical notions of modern life, and that it has begun to challenge and gradually replace it. This already well-established framework is in fact a three-stage model since the whole idea of modernity implies a decisive break with the past; that modernity is something new and vastly different from anything that has existed since the beginnings of civilization. The pre-modern–modern–postmodern model is thus not something I just pulled out of my hat, but a rather conventional framework that is commonly used among the bulk of scholars and social theorists today. The idea that there are such things as modernity and postmodernity (and something that came before) of course has its opponents. But most scholars know it well, and even if they don’t use it themselves, they generally don’t protest its use by others.

The “pre-modern” category may fulfill its purpose just fine when you want to describe the present or near-past, which is what most social theorists are concerned with. But every historian ought to agree that, for the student of cultural history writ large, it simply doesn’t work to lump the entirety of human history prior to the past couple of centuries into a single juggernaut category. There’s a substantial difference between the pyramid-building civilizations and free-roaming paleolithic hunter gatherers that preceded them by tens of thousands of years, which at least merits the creation of two separate categories or stages. This should hardly be a controversial claim within neither historiography, nor archeology, nor sociology. In fact, the classification of human societies and historical eras into one of the three categories: 1) pre-agrarian, 2) agrarian, and 3) modern industrial, is so conventional that it’s almost embarrassing to explicitly mention it. And then we have all the smart social theorists eagerly engaged in the discussion about what comes after modernity, including if or how we’ve already made such a decisive break from classical enlightenment modernity. Some talk about postmodernity, others about “late modernity”, some use the term “hypermodernity”, but no matter the preferred term, we’re talking about a stage (or whichever term scholars prefer to use: phase, epoch, and so on) following the modern one.

One big part of the problem is that most social theorists aren’t historians, and most historians aren’t social theorists. The job of social theorists is, most often, to analyze and describe contemporary society. As such, they’re mostly preoccupied with modernity and postmodernity while the pre-modern stages remain largely ignored. Historians, on the other hand, are generally not too interested in social theory, or, for obvious reasons, contemporary society, so they tend to be unaware of or uninterested in the idea of the postmodern.

Depending on which country is being discussed, or which school of thought is applied, you have a veritable jungle out there of different time periods, eras, epochs, and so on. For the most part, however, all of these don’t help much to understand and explain history and the world. They merely function as chronological categories, rarely as qualitative ones. I’ll get back to this part about chronological versus qualitative categories in history, but very briefly: “The Middle Ages” is a chronological category, i.e. it’s a certain period of time (circa 500 to 1400–1500 CE), Modernity on the other hand is more of a qualitative one (it denotes certain forms of culture, as we discuss in this book). Chronological categories aren’t very useful for understanding the world. We must have qualitative categories to do so.

It’s also worth mentioning that pre-agrarian times remain largely neglected by most historians. After all, their job is to analyze written sources, and as such, everything before the agrarian era—what historians rather impertinently dismiss as “prehistory”—is largely beyond their field of expertise. “Prehistory” then, has become the domain of archaeologists, but for the most part they’re too busy digging treasures up to care about what their more theoretically minded colleagues in other departments are up to.

So here’s the model most historians, sociologists, and anthropologists would agree on if they were talking with each other:

  1. Prehistory, hunter gatherers, stone age
  2. Premodern, traditional, agrarian civilization
  3. Modern, industrial civilization
  4. Postmodern, late modern, hyper modern etc.

My point is that even if most historians and social theorists are too busy with all kinds of other stuff than to “obsess” about stages, the established discourse within the social sciences actually already implies a four-stage model. Fortunately, however, most of them remain blissfully unaware about the heresy they’re guilty of! Many of them could literally risk their careers if they expressed the stage model that everyone is already taking for granted. Stage theories are instruments of oppression, right?

So, what have I done to get to six stages? Well, I’ve simply divided the so-called “pre-modern”, “traditional”, (or whatever scholars want to call the way of life between the agricultural and industrial revolutions) category into two separate stages. The reason ought to be fairly obvious: This category is just too broad. The differences between the early pyramid-building slave societies, and the later cathedral-building ones with their moral religions and literate traditions, are simply too numerous and deep-going to adequately fit both kinds of societies within the same category. 

To me, the contrast between the former (pyramid) and the latter (cathedral) always seemed like one of a magnitude similar to that between modernity and postmodernity.

But there is more to it. The two stages even have a similar dynamic between them as the Modern and Postmodern metamemes: Postmodern looks and feels a lot like Modern, still relying on some kind of late-stage industrialism, but there are profound shifts in culture and values that take place. Correspondingly, the world religions like Buddhism, Islam, or Christianity seem to reorder still-agrarian societies according to values that, among other things, question slavery, war, inequality, and the arbitrary use of power. As such, I chose to add the -post prefix to the latter of the two stages, Faustian and Postfaustian together constituting “pre-modernity”. (Why “Faustian” to begin with? I’ll be back to answer that one.)

To truly notice the difference between Faustian and Postfaustian cultures, just compare the Babylonian ritual where the high priestess literally has sex with the king on a table in front of everyone (this was to celebrate the advent of spring)—compare it with the celibate life of Christian or Buddhist monks. Indeed, it’s difficult to imagine more different cultural expressions: going from slam-bang orgies on the table and “sacred marriage” to chastity and contemplation of moral universality. Of course, Catholic priests do get their action too, but it’s always a very clandestine affair.

So, all I did was say that we can’t lump all of “pre-modern” into one big basket. And I split it into two, which I call Faustian and Postfaustian.

Q: So what you’re saying is that you’ve merely added one additional stage to the existing sociological and historical framework, and then begun exploring what the next stage following postmodernity might look like?

HF: Yep, pretty much. But, although that doesn’t sound like much, it’s the final piece of a puzzle that opened up a whole new understanding of history, society, and cultural development. It revealed a pattern, a pattern that has been hidden in plain sight, namely that societal development has a certain rhythm; that the peculiar dichotomy between modernity and postmodernity isn’t something entirely novel, but simply echoes a pattern that has occurred before. History is linear, sure, with one thing leading to next, but it’s also cyclical, with certain patterns that repeat. Linear and cyclical, both at the same time, like a spiral. Or a fractal.

The spiral of history. Even that, however, may conceal more than it elucidates. If you allow me to stretch our geometric metaphors out of shape: The spiral is imperfect, it has exceptions and cracks, and if you zoom in on it, you notice that each part of the spiral in turn consists of smaller spirals. History is a complex structure, yes. But it’s not entirely without structure, nor without elements that could, on some levels of analysis, be compared to lines.

The exploration of this structure, without falling back on the cop-out of saying “it’s complex” to avoid any and all real explanations, will be the overarching theme of this book.

Are Stage Theories BS?

Q: So, Hanzi, Nora Bateson, the daughter of the polymath biologist Gregory Bateson (also known for his role in the development of cybernetics), once wrote on social media that “stage theories are bullshit” and “colonial as hell”. She’s also, I should mention, a respected person in her own right among the world’s forward-looking people. True, Nora Bateson was mostly commenting upon theories of psychological development, a topic you’ve discussed in your other work, but don’t you think she may have a point here? After all, if you organize cultures into stages of development, some will be higher and others lower.

Can you hear what that sounds like, “higher and lower cultures”? How do you know you’re not just speaking from within the bias of your own culture, making it appear “higher” when it’s really just different, perhaps even worse?

HF: Believe me, I understand where this is coming from. When it comes to the stages of psychological development, people are fed up with developmental stage fetishism and its pathologies. We have grown weary of entitled white men on their ways to conspiracy meetings about how to raise the rest of humanity to their self-proclaimed heights. And the colonial heritage is very real still today, with real people suffering real consequences. I get it, no more cults and dominator hierarchies (and the mandatory forced therapeutic BDSM that follows like a shadow) based on stage theory excuses! Out, raus, get out!

Yes, I too have grown wary of stage-mania. I often find myself in arguments about it. The path forward is to support generative conditions for happiness and healing, “the listening society”, not forcing one’s idea of “development” and “stages” down people’s throats.

Q: And yet…?

HF: The problem is that many stage theories still describe and explicate data in manners that none of their denunciators can match, not even close. Sure, there are holes to poke with difficult-to-explain exceptions. There are critical perspectives to reincorporate, from postcolonialism, to feminism, to situationist psychology, to indigenous perspectives, to Deleuzian rhizome-perspectives, to animal rights, to skill theories (that diversify growth into smaller and interconnected threads), to the sociology of knowledge of whose purpose the theories serve… The list goes on. All of this comes from an egalitarian ethos I share. But the bottom line is that none of this actually disproves the simple fact that people and other organisms—and, yes, cultures, too—do develop in discernible stages.

I mean, how do you explain that all other things in the universe seem to be sequentially ordered, that every relational property always has prerequisites for its emergence? So why not the psychologies of humans? And why not human societies and their cultures, too?

Or, in the case of stage theories in the realm of psychology, how do you explain that different researchers from different fields have come up with roughly the same stages of psychological development, with roughly the same characteristics, and with roughly the same distribution of people at each stage? And when studied empirically, these stages have lined up with “equal spaces” between them, which means that a) the stages measure something discrete and not something fuzzy or gradual, and b) each stage shift corresponds exactly to the stage shift before and after it. You cannot explain that stuff away so easily.

The stage-theory resistors make up, by a wide margin, the dominant position in academia. That means it’s dangerous for your career to believe in stages. To be against stages is the safe mainstream position to take. But my point is that the stage-theory resistors are as wrong, and as dangerous, as the stage-theory fetishists. 

You can never deduce an “is” from an “ought”: Humans “ought” not to develop in stages, because it’s colonial (or take your critical pick), thus stage theory “is” not true. Now that’s a serious fallacy. If stage theories meaningfully describe and predict real patterns of the world, they do, like it or not.

Q: But how do you prove that your stage theories are true to begin with, that the metamemes are real?

HF: You might as well ask if the medieval period was real? Or the Stone Age? Or what about the Enlightenment or the Industrial Revolution, were they real? What I’m claiming is not absolute truth. But I do claim that the metamemes I discuss here are more real than loose categories such as the Stone Age or the Enlightenment—because they describe patterns with much greater depth and precision, and thus better explain what happened and why.

But the question is not so much if they’re real or not, whether metamemes exist or don’t exist. The question is rather which one of these two statements is more true:

  • That metamemes are real
  • That there are no such patterns to history at all

If there is no such pattern to history, how does one explain why Cleopatra wasn’t a queer feminist? “Because nobody taught her?” Well, nobody taught Judith Butler either. She figured it out herself. Is there a historical pattern to this? Yes. The question is only if one can come up with another, better historical pattern that explains more phenomena in more coherent and relevant ways than those explained by the metamemes.

Some believe we simply cannot talk about larger abstract entities like modernity and postmodernity. But the question is not if we can talk about modernity or not—I just did—but rather, if you’re well-equipped enough to do so in a stringent and productive manner. Those who refuse to talk about it simply cannot participate in the discussion.

Q: Well, I could dismiss the entire discussion on grounds that I simply don’t acknowledge the existence of the patterns you’re talking about?

HF: You could. And you can ignore the discussions about why the earth isn’t flat. Life still goes on. Lightning doesn’t strike you. Each to their own.

But okay, if you don’t like the word “pattern”, here’s another one for you: “theory”! We all use theories when we conduct historiographical research—whether we say it out loud or not.

Please keep in mind that the metamemes are just models or representations of reality, not reality itself. But our knowledge about “reality” can only consist of narratives, symbolic structures made out of signs. Some of these are often called “theories”. 

As far as I can see, those who think there’s no such thing as “modernity” simply have too poor theories and too vague definitions of what “modernity” means. It’s easy to not believe in something you cannot define yourself. They entirely miss the point of the discussion because it’s not about whether entities like these “exist” or not, but whether the contents and mechanisms attributed to the concept are valid explanation models. What is relevant to the discussion is the context which has already been outlined—not the fact that there is a context, and whose existence as a “real” entity can be brought into question.

The question isn’t to be or not to be. To explain or to confuse—or to just cop out and avoid any real exploration in the first place—that is the question.

So the measure of success is not whether I have “solid proof” of the existence of metamemes, but simply whether or not I’m less mistaken than someone else. If my hypothesis about metamemes is less wrong than other ones attempting to explain historical change, then it’s valuable and worthwhile considering on its own terms.

Q: Okay then, so how do you prove that stage theory is “less wrong” then?

HF: Still not getting it, I see.

Listen, I don’t need to prove that “stage theory in general” is a good thing or less wrong. I just need to disprove all out-of-hand dismissals of all stage theories, and then go on to make the case for my own stage model.

First, we need to remember that you can always craft good or bad stage theories. If I claim that the first people were made of ice, then they became made of fire, and today more and more are being made of iron, that’s a bad stage theory, and it’s exactly as useless as it sounds. It’s incorrect. It does not explain the world or its events. And applying that theory will have awful consequences (for instance, thinking that the ice people are resistant to freezing temperatures). If I claim that feudalism grows into capitalism which grows into communism, I’m also wrong, even if it’s a tad better than the last idea. Still, the belief in that incorrect stage theory arguably killed off a hundred million people during the 20th century. If I claim that agricultural civilization grew out of stone age hunter-gatherer lifestyles, and eventually began spreading and displacing such lifestyles, I’m more or less right. Now, if I apply that theory wisely and non-dogmatically, it can be useful and offer guidance to matters of e.g. indigenous rights, developmental economics, foreign aid, gaining independence in mind and lifestyle towards modern civilization, and even for ecological adaptation.

My claim is not that “all stage theories that anyone ever crafted are true and useful”. That would be a preposterous claim. But—and here’s my point—it is equally preposterous to claim that no stage theories can ever explain anything or be useful for anything. Steps happen. You can trace them, more or less successfully so. And if you know a lot about stage theories of psychology, history, society, anthropology, economy, technology, and even biology and complexity science, you can weigh and combine stage theories until you see deeper and more water-tight patterns.

So, instead of asking whether stage theories—in general—are “true” or not, wrong or less wrong, how about we ask the simple question: 

  • Are there issues that can be explained entirely without stage theory, i.e. without one thing sequentially building upon another?

Let’s take a few examples:

There is overwhelming evidence that human reasoning develops in steps. For instance, there has never been one (1) single human child that first learned algebra and geometry, and then learned to count. Every single person who has these capacities first learned to count, then to add and subtract, then to multiply and do division, and so on. Algebra and geometry imply counting in every case. Thus, there have been no, zero (0) societies in the history of our planet—and we can assume in the universe—that invented algebra but not numbers that came in sequence.

Now, is this useful information? Depends on what utility you seek, of course. But if you want to teach kids math, for instance, try starting with algebra before you teach them to count to three. You’ll be stuck at the beginning and never teach them anything. Also, you’ll torture the poor little ones with boredom.

Maybe, by now, there is a way out of stage theories through the application of absinthe. Go to Prague, drink plenty of absinthe, watch an Ionesco absurdist play, stare at a wall, and go ahead and claim that “well, who knows what the ‘use’ of anything is, at the end of the day?”. (But for my part, I don’t think you are very useful in that case). Sure, have fun. Just don’t tell me you’re saving the Global South or anything; you’re not. You’re just being tone-deaf to the melodies of life and the needs of others.

Meanwhile, the argument is settled: anyone who cares about human beings and animals not suffering must admit that stage theories can and do explain real and relevant realities. And because relevant realities can be explained, and relating to reality is a necessary part of responding to it, including caring about others, learning about stage theories can be a productive endeavor. Ignoring it tends to be destructive in the long run.

Let’s take a few more bites of that one. Where can stage theories, more of the kind we explore in this book, be useful?

  • Trump supporters: Deplorables? Maybe. With a stage-theory perspective, one can easily see that Trump supporters are, on average, in a different spot in terms of the development of values, worldviews, and even personalities. Hence, relating to them as “deplorable” is counter-productive; rather, their specific needs and desires must be met and dealt with, which tends to support further development.
  • The Greenlandic Inuit exposed to the “blessings” of modern (Danish, colonial) civilization? If their social fabric was based around smaller groups and older worldviews, maybe massive exposure even to the (relatively benevolent) Danish welfare state of the 20th century (this was not Belgian Congo, after all) simply ripped their societies, cosmologies, and personalities to shreds and left enormous amount of pain to be filled with consumer goods and cheap liquor? Exactly what happened. A stage theory perspective like the one presented in this book makes it abundantly clear why such exposure to modernity can be destructive and highly unethical.
  • “Successful” sprints to modernize economies, like Japan and South Korea, have nevertheless left societies full of stress, anxiety, and impossible social norms to live up to. (No one is having babies, or hardly any sex for that matter. Goodbye future). Ah, a developmental perspective like the one in this book shows that if you force a lopsided and hurried development of the economy, the culture will be shocked to a degree that often destroys human life conditions from the inside out.
  • Integration of immigrant groups into multicultural societies? We could make it about civilizations and culture “clashing” against one another. (“Those Arab Muslims should become more like the French majority!). But at the end of the day, the real fault lines are drawn between stages of cultural development, not between cultures, where it’s the less universalist values of earlier stages on each side of the majority-minority divides that are locked into conflict. Guide towards more universalist values on both sides, towards “higher stage”, and you stop pouring gasoline on the fire and instead begin to resolve the problems.

Lastly, there’s the whole issue of data explained by developmental theories. For instance, in psychology, there are a number of large research programs that again and again show that people’s reasoning, values, and personalities develop in manners partly corresponding to how cultures develop (as I discuss in The Listening Society). If you can come up with theories that better suit the data feel free to present them! Just as you’re free to present a better theory than gravity of why things fall than Newton did. Einstein actually did do that, so I’m not saying it’s impossible, just that it takes more than just dismissing the models out of hand.

So what’s the better explanation for what appears to so many researchers as clear stages? On this, however, there is silence. And, where there is empirical and theoretical silence, moral condemnation tends to become louder.

Q: I take it you’re referring to the claim that stage theories are “colonial as hell”. But even if stage theories in some situations can be very useful, that doesn’t exclude that they simultaneously can be harmful. I mean, it’s a rather high price to pay for a few theoretical aha-moments if it turns people into a bunch of judgmental stage-obsessed progressivists who’re more concerned with raising civilization to a new level of imagined enlightenment than with social and global justice.

What’s the point if the whole thing just leads to chauvinism and eurocentrism? Or eugenics: “the creation of a higher man”? Or communist totalitarianism: “the birth of a higher form of society”?

HF: I sincerely share your concern with these possible pathologies, and I encourage everyone to speak out the moment they show their ugly face. Stage theories can invite misuse in these ways.

Even with these concerns in full view, I would actually claim that stage theory isn’t only analytically preferrable, but even, which is an entirely separate issue, morally preferable. Try these out:

  • Stage theory helps non-judgment: If someone has a crude opinion (Trump supporter, ethnocentrism, mainstream consumerist capitalism, etc.), it’s due to a lack of the privilege that supports growth, not to an inherent flaw of the person. Remove the developmental perspectives, and you’re back where Hillary Clinton started: “The basket of the deplorables!”
  • Stage theory supports equality: By seeing that some people have had more opportunities to develop, one can develop programs to support those who are psycho-socially underprivileged. If you are, as many of the resistors would have it, shamed and ostracized for your research into measuring this, the weak, not the strong, suffer for it.
  • Stage theory binds cultures together: Without stage perspectives, people mistake cultural spheres for having immutable qualities that cannot be reconciled (the Arab world, the West, etc.). With a developmental perspective, you can see that stages cut across cultures and offer venues of mutually beneficial exchange. We mentioned this one before, but it’s a crucial one and worth repeating: Defending human rights in the face of abuses by the Rwandan regime is not “Western arrogance”; drilling for oil with the help of Sudanese warlords forcing local populations out of the way with waves of child soldier militia terror, is.
  • No direction: Okay, so no more measuring of deep, inner progress. Fine, but then we’re left with lowest common denominators such as GDP growth, which is killing the planet. Stage theory shows a deeper direction: higher stage can mean something like going more inwards, being more nuanced, more multiperspectival, more integrated, more differentiated, in greater resonance. You can argue for those things without stage theories. But the moment you systematize your understanding of how more nuanced and inclusive perspectives are achieved, you have ended up with some sort of a stage theory. Without such a stage theory, society loses its sense of direction at the very moment we need it the most.
  • More multiperspectival: Stage theories allow for different truth claims to hold up at different stages without resorting to analytical violence; you can show how things fit together and how one thing leads to another.
  • Less Western-centric: The profound relativism that we’re left with in the vacuum of no-stage-theory is a distinctly Western phenomenon, one that presses itself upon and violently uproots cultures around the world, because their developmental traits are not seen, heard, and respected.
  • Better for kids and animals: With a developmental perspective, one can better see the unique needs of kids and animals and serve them in ways that are conducive to their dignity, health, and, where appropriate, growth. For instance, Eriksonian stages are key to supporting children in fulfilling their specific needs.

Then again, if it’s “better” not to believe in stages than to do so (despite the evidence), aren’t the resistors creating a stage hierarchy of their own where they feel that they have considered the issue further and deeper? How can they defend even their own position without an implicit stage hierarchy?

Anyway. As I’m keen to point out, stage theories aren’t everything. There are other just as vital aspects, including context, culture, and relationality. But that doesn’t make them into nothing.

So take arms against developmental fetishists and elitism, by all means! But do not fall for the fad of throwing babies out with bathwater. Not only are you making an analytical mistake; you’re letting down the babies.

Q: Always want the last word, don’t you? How about I have the last word for once. I still think I’m the good guy and that people who believe in stage theories are morally and intellectually inferior to me and should listen to me and learn from me, until they one day realize how right I was. I will always stand up for the alternative voice. You’re a mansplainer! I’m the side-view! I’m the surprise! I’m the rebel! This never gets old!

A History without Time

Q: So, please indulge me—it’s your book after all, so I’ll have to endure the obviously gendered ‘splaining—what exactly is a metameme, and why did you choose this term?

HF: I realized that the term “effective value meme”, which I’ve used in my previous books, didn’t quite fit when describing stages of cultural development on a societal level. The effective value meme is an aggregate of the four dimensions of psychological development I introduced in The Listening Society. This is what determines whether a person has a modern, postmodern, or traditional (postfaustian) worldview, for example. Although the particular stages are the same, and in turn are intimately connected (in the way that modern societies, for example, tend to generate a lot of people with modern values, and that these in turn tend to create modern societies), I still felt that the term “value meme” was inadequate when applied to the much broader field of social and cultural development. The socio-cultural stages contain so much more than just values and worldviews, there are also all the technological, political, institutional, and artistic aspects that come with the territory. Having two different terms also helps distinguish whether we’re talking about psychological or societal development.

So, I had to ditch the word “value”, but I wanted to keep the word “meme” since that’s essentially what cultural development is all about. In a way, what it’s only about. Memes (not to be confused with the illustrated jokes people pass around on social media) are non-physical self-replicating units of cultural information that are transmitted through signs and symbols. Think of all the ideas, inventions, attitudes, behaviors, and styles that spread among people through writing, speech, gestures, rituals, and so on within and even across cultures. You can see them as culture’s equivalent of biology’s genes, or as the “building blocks” of culture.

Now, memes don’t just randomly occur and spread. Like anything else, their emergence and proliferation are developmentally determined. The memes come bundled in non-arbitrarily ordered collections of developmentally determined “umbrella” memes. These overarching memes, these stages of cultural development, are patterns in how humans organize knowledge, thus the “pattern of patterns” of societies and civilizations. Throwing the “meta-” prefix in front of the term “meme” just seemed like an open goal here.

Q: Why do you keep insisting on making up your own words? Wouldn’t it make it easier for your readers if you just used existing terminology, and perhaps be a bit more honest given that your ideas aren’t that new and simply build on existing theories? I mean, the more words you come up with, the harder it gets to read and the more confusing everything becomes. How about just using the already existing term, “memeplex”?

HF: First of all, the world would be a much poorer place if people didn’t develop new words to explain an ever more complex reality. 

Secondly, what some writers (like the consciousness scholar Susan Blackmore or the philosopher Daniel Dennett) call a memeplex, which is short for meme complex, simply refers to any large and coherent pattern of memes. This includes stuff like languages or dances or rituals or architecture. The metamemes are a subsection of the memeplexes; they are the patterns of how cultures can be described in developmental terms; if you will, in developmental stages. Metamemes are specifically defined, very large, memeplexes; they evolve in a recognizable and logical sequence (hence “developmental”). 

Here’s an example: A meme could be ballet. Did any tribal culture, anywhere in the world, ever generate a dance that resembles ballet? No. They produce an incredible array of dances and prances and rituals, but no ballet. Why? 

Q: Uhm, because ballet is a Western invention…?

HF: Well, then, why did no medieval European societies ever produce ballet dances?

No. Ballet is not primarily tied to geography, ethnicity, or race. The answer is that ballet is Modern. It’s generated under the logic of the Modern metameme.

In fact, ballet sprung out of fencing and the court society centered and modeled on early Modern France. Like a racing car, ballet is based upon removing all but the most necessary movements. In a sense, it’s ultimately utilitarian. That’s what creates its elegance. It’s Ockham’s razor applied to the movements of the human body. It’s the Enlighten­ment paradigm embodied in motion.

The chance of ballet emerging in a pre-Modern context is simply zero. Zero. Ballet did not come about arbitrarily. Sure, there are arbitrary elements to it which were shaped by individual people or European culture, but there are many prerequisites specific to early Modern life that make it possible for something like ballet to pop into existence. Ballet isn’t Animistic (like hunter-gatherer societies); it’s Modern. No Ockham’s razor, no Enlightenment—no ballet.

Q: Uhm, there are some things to explain there. But first of all, this sounds pretty racist to me. You’re saying that Western ballet is better and “more advanced” than all the tribal dances in the world. Who are you to say? Good grief. This developmental perspective of “metamemes” can really make some Western people quite blind. Isn’t the measure of “more advanced” in itself your narrow Western bias? You think, like in the 19th century, that Europeans, white men, are “more civilized”?

HF: You said better, more advanced, and more civilized. I didn’t say that.

I said that, descriptively, certain memes (like ballet) pertain to certain metamemes (like modernity)—by logical necessity. This may interact with certain geographical and ethnic entities like “Western” or “Indian”, but it’s not a theory about such entities.

My claim is, rather, that such entities, “civilizational cultural spheres”, are ultimately epiphenomena; i.e. they’re a lot less important than we’ve usually been taught to think. We tend to over-essentialize them, to ascribe too much explanatory power to “Western”, “Indian” and so on. If you think about it, it’s obvious that I have much more in common with a contemporary urban Indian than a German peasant in the 1700s. The memetic distance is simply much smaller to the contemporary Indian citizen.

But again, about ballet, the burden of proof is on you: show me ballet (or something that corresponds closely to it in terms of choreography) emerging in a hunter-gatherer setting, and I shall solemnly eat my hat. I’ll record it on YouTube so you can revel in it on repeat and in slow-motion. Then go on finding an Animistic theory of gravity, Animistic social science, or Animistic stock markets. And I’ll eat the whole hat stand. The burden of proof is yours, not mine.

If you start from the negatives, and work by falsification, it becomes obvious that history is non-arbitrarily ordered. What I mean by that is that you can look at all the things that obviously do not exist in, say, pre-Modern societies, and which cannot emerge without the Modern (or later) metameme. Show me the Picasso of the 11th century? Poststruc­turalist critique of literature in the Warring States period of China? No?

I’m not saying that ballet is “finer”. I once watched Swan Lake in Copenhagen. God be my witness, it bored me to tears. Not going back there. I had much more fun doing an ecstatic tribal style dance around a fire at a Burning Man event. Naked, except for the beard.

I’m just saying that it pertains to the Modern metameme, and I shall labor to explore the meaning of this throughout this book, layer by layer.

Death metal, as in that Norwegian music genre, is also (late) Modern. But, of course, fearsome songs about blood, gore, and demons are found across all the metamemes—we shall go on to see how such things as death metal can be understood. Is opera truly “Western”? What about Chinese opera, then? Western opera and Chinese opera showed up in different settings, the Chinese version evolving considerably earlier and indep­endently, in a more pre-modern setting, today counting over a hundred regional styles. But neither tradition could have been generated in an Animistic context.

Calling ballet “Modern” is not a matter of preference—taste always depends on the eye of the observer; one may prefer things for any number of reasons. It is simply a point about the non-arbitrary nature of history. History is structured. It’s not, to use a worn expression, just “one damned thing after another” (ODATAA). History has melodies; I would say, beautiful ones. And it has a certain direction, albeit a meandering one that easily gets interrupted.

So, if history does indeed play in discernable melodies, why not listen to them? And if it’s pointing somewhere, why not trace its path?

***

Q: Okay, so you believe there is a spirit of evolution, a force that propels the direction of history, from the Big Bang, through cosmological history, through biolo­gical evolution, and then through cultural stages of evolution, driving the universe towards a goal of unification?

HF: Actually, no.

Or rather, we can and should remain agnostic about any such force. The moment we start believing in such an entity, and that we can some­how intuitively or intellectually tap into this force and serve its purpose, we become tunnel-visioned “true believers”, fanatics set on a particular direction of history and thus blind to the multiplicity of perspectives and the richness, contradictions, and paradoxes of history. We implicitly take ourselves to be prophets, speaking the word of God, which—again—belongs to no one: An unforgivable vanity, a cardinal sin.

Rather than aligning ourselves with “the force that propels history”, we should “listen to the melodies of the future”. That can still involve listening intuitively, following our hearts. But even the subtle whispers of the heart do not grant us knowledge of where history is going.

Evolution doesn’t “look ahead” and push itself towards a goal or end or “singularity” or what the Catholic mystic Teilhard de Chardin called the “Omega Point”. The intellectual laziness of such thinking has always abhorred me.

It would be more accurate to say that evolution “stumbles forwards”; it doesn’t really see where it’s going, or why. People like ourselves can think we know where we’re going. But the universe always surprizes us, and the stumbling march of history always turns out to be orthogonal to what we imagined. It feels more likely, then, that we live in a universe that also surprises itself.

Take something like the Russian Empire—there is little if any apparent connection between the presumably Viking (or Varangian) chieftain Rurik’s establishment of Novgorod in 862, the rise and fall of the Kievan Rus, the regrouping of post-Mongol Russian power around Moscow, the purges of nobility under Ivan the Terrible, the establishment of Saint Petersburg under Peter the Great and the thousands that died in the process, and the defeat at the Crimean War, and the royal court being enthralled by the crazed faith healer Rasputin in the early 20th century—and the emergence of the Soviet Union and its role in the Cold War, as well as its collapse some 80 years later, with resulting stagnation and failed trans­itions to liberal capitalism and the invasion of Ukraine in 2022. If there has indeed been a direct­ionality and pattern to this evolution, it has certainly been one full of contra­dictions, blunders and meaningless failures and mistakes. Cath­erine the Great, a German-born ruler who corresponded with Voltaire and embra­ced the Enlightenment, later turned her back entirely on the Enlighten­ment ideals in the wake of the French Revolution. She pivo­ted—as did her evolving country.

The whole thing doesn’t “see where it’s going”. Today’s Russia stum­bled itself into existence through failures, tragedies, and paradoxes—through twists and turns of human ingenuity, vanity, tragedy, and sheer stupidity. As did all of the world’s nations. Crash, boom, bang, oops—death, decay, suffering untold. Tragedies and cruel jokes at the expense of the human spirit. Absolute absurdity. And in the midst of it all: creation—the emergence of the utterly unexpected, the stumbled-upon, which still somehow germinated through many criss-crossing patterns of hum­an agency, foresight, and intentionality.

Simply put: the existence of directionality and pattern do not presuppose a pre-given, or God-given, purpose. Historical evolution has recognizable patterns and directions, but probably no “end-goal” or “telos”. And if it has no end-goal, it has no particular “destiny”, either. I view our intentions and goals for society nihilistically; they may serve as necessary little “religions” for us, but they never turn out to be right. And thus nobody is destiny’s child or God’s prophet. Not even Beyoncé.

To the extent that we wish to shape the future with this book, we need to be sincere interpreters and analysts, but only ironic prophets.

If there is indeed a spirit of evolution that guides this story, we must conclude that it’s a rather clumsy and incompetent one. It’s all over the place, working in “mysterious ways” to say the least. And yet, with a bird’s eye view, we can also conclude that it has not stumbled entirely at random. Even the chaotic and grim history of Russia has emerged thr­ough epochs that follow certain cultural patterns: the metamemes.

***

Q: Uhm, okay. So when did these metameme periods happen then?

HF: Wrong question. You still haven’t understood it. Metamemes aren’t like Antiquity, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, and so on.

The philosopher Theodor Adorno famously argued that “modernity is a qualitative, not a chronological category”. What he meant by that is that it’s not really meaningful to try to understand at what particular time the world “became modern”—the answer to this will vary depending on the context. Much of the world still today isn’t modern in a meaningful sense. Rather, one must struggle to understand why modernity emerged, thr­ough which mechanisms, which properties delineate it from non-mod­ernity or pre-modernity. That would be the only usable explanation, be­cause that’s what has real explanatory, and, ultimately, predictive power. That’s also how the classical sociologists of the late 19th century approached the study of modern society.

And I couldn’t agree more, dear Adorno. Modernity is one of the six metamemes. None of the metamemes are “chronological categories”. They’re not periods. They’re not eras. They’re not epochs. They are something else.

They are certain patterns of history—certain qualities, certain prop­erties, certain logics, certain dynamics. They are large patterns-of-patterns; they are overarching patterns-that-connect. As such, meta­memes stretch across and through any crude periodization we may conjure up. They slip through any attempt to catch them chronologically, to freeze them in time.

Think about it; the events of world history have nothing—or very little—to do with the year numbers and epochs we ascribe to them. Sure, years give us intervals of time, but beyond that, epochs and years are completely arbitrary. They are, in that sense, unscientific—because they offer no explanatory or predictive power. They are fancies, little more.

The metamemes are qualitative categories. That is to say, you can describe how they work. What they do. What they are. Now that is truly an explanation. Saying something is “medieval” or that it happened in 1212, is not.

And for this reason, this will be a quite unconventional history of the world. I rely on sequences and years, yes, on historical time and geographical space. But that’s not the focus. I’m offering you a qual­itative understanding of the history of the world, a history of the patterns that drive and shape the cultural world; if you will, a history without time.

***

Q: Okay, Hanzi. Fair enough. So you want to try out a new way of telling the history of the world. I can see how that would excite you and make your insignificant little speck of a life seem worthwhile, perhaps even compensate for a few childhood traumas and belittlements that life has heaped on you. Good luck with that.

But I still don’t quite get how you view this “history without time”—I mean, what is history if not a series of events in time? Please answer me directly: What is history?

HF: Nice punch. Indeed, what is world history?

It’s not primarily, as Marx and Engels would have us believe, the history of classes and their struggle against each other.

Nor is it the history of kings and queens.

It’s not the history of nations, or even cycles of civilizations, their ebbs and flows, their rise, decay, and downfall.

It’s not the history of the everyday life of living, breathing human beings.

It’s not the progress of technology in itself.

It’s not a series of events, what is sometimes called “one damned thing after another” (ODTAA).

And it’s definitely not the history of human races and their struggle to the death, race against race, thank you very much.

It’s not even the history of humanity as a whole, of the species homo sapiens. What a silly world history that would be.

So called human history, the history of the world, what is commonly known as “cultural history”, is the history of memes.

This is, need I add, an informational view of history. We are answering the question: What structures and drives the elements of information? That’s what drives history; which is to say, it is what explains and connects the events. Information is the element that coordinates human actions, and it thus guides human events, including human responses to natural events.

When the Enlightenment philosopher Voltaire wrote his reflection on the tsunami that hit Lisbon in 1755, he changed the human response to it: perhaps it was not, as commonly believed, a punishment from God; perhaps it was just a meaningless natural event. In his Poème sur le dés­astre de Lisbonne, Voltaire notes:

“’If it be true,’ they said, ‘that whatever is, is right, it follows that human nature is not fallen.

If the order of things requires that everything should be as it is, then human nature has not been corrupted, and consequently has no need for a Redeemer.

[…]

if the miseries of individuals are merely the by-product of this general and necessary order, then we are nothing more than cogs which serve to keep the great machine in motion; we are no more precious in the eyes of God than the animals by which we are devoured.”

In Voltaire’s voice we can hear a new metameme—the Modern one—emerging to challenge the old, in my terms Postfaustian, one.  This changed how history was understood (blind mechanisms rather than God’s will), just as I try to change how history is understood in accordance with a metamodern perspective.

Indeed, Voltaire himself went on to write an early-modern account of world history, An Essay on Universal History, revised multiple times until his death in 1778. In this treatise, Voltaire shocked his Europ­ean contemporaries by holding that European nations are not inherently more advanced than others, praising the achievements of Indian and Chinese civilizations. He was looking for a truly general history of the world. In this book, I try to contribute to a corresponding update of our understanding of what history actually is.

So let’s focus on memes. Look at it this way:

The history of the physical world is cosmology. The history of the planet is geology. Geological properties can only emerge within a larger cosmological story. The history of life, this self-organization of complex, sentient entities, is biology. Life can only play out in some select corners of the universe, where goldilocks conditions allow it, in an interplay with geological settings. Biology carries within itself molecular patterns that we call genes—carriers of information. Biology, or natural history, is the history of genes and their evolutionary struggle.

Cultural history, what we usually just call “history”, is yet another level up of emergence and abstraction. It exists within a biological framework. You need biological creatures with malleable bodies into which memes can be encoded. Memes are patterns that are imprinted, not into the mole­cules of the creature, their DNA, but into some more readily changeable part of the body, like connections between nerve cells. Memes are memo­ries, learned skills and crafts, stories, ideas, taken-for-granted assump­tions, languages. They are transferable patterns imprinted in a more abstract layer of bodily configurations (as compared to DNA). And they transfer through communication and imitation.

The word “meme” took on a life of its own after Richard Dawkins introduced it in his book The Selfish Gene from 1976. He juxtaposed it with “gene”. It was a good move. Memes are like ghosts-of-abstraction that, as it were, possess the biological bodies of their carriers. They emerge through ongoing interactions between hum­an beings, and then take over those same human beings and control the movements of their bodies, shaping very specific patterns of move­ments of the body. Biologically, I can be a light-skinned homo sapiens with green irises and long legs. Culturally, I can be a Russian-speaking, socialist ballet dancer. Through the medium of my biological body, memes “remote-control” me and make me do pirouettes for the glory of Stalin. When I open my mouth to speak, my tongue will move in a specifically Russian manner. I’m a memetic creature as much as I’m a genetic one—just as much as I’m a physical object with a certain mass, speed, and position in space-time. I have emerged on all these levels: physical, biological, and cultural. 

Cultural history must thereby, necessarily, be the history of how all memes emerge, how they struggle, combine, and evolve, and how they steer the world. Because culture consists of memes, whereas genes can only be transferred and experimented with through new generations, through new bodies (with some leeway for epigenetic factors, i.e. how genes are turned on and off during a lifetime), memes can evolve much more quickly and according to another logic entirely. And that logic is culture, and its development is “history”. An event is “historical” because it is memetically significant. Events that do not change memes are not “historical”.

Memes are more malleable than genes. We cannot all get green eyes and red hair, but we can all learn at least some Swahili, if exposed to it. Given, of course, that we have the biological prerequisites for the meme to transfer to us (brain, ears, tongue, etc.).

Or look at it this way, from the negative: Is it possible to write a piece of history without discussing matters of class? Yes. Without describing the doings of kings and queens? Yes. Without relating to nations? Yes. But is it possible to discuss any cultural history without relating to memes? No. Because memes are the most fundamental category of history.

And metamemes are the fundamental patterns of the memes them­selves. The memes don’t emerge independently, but in relation to each other. They emerge as functions of larger, more fundamental, meta­memes.

Thus, metamemes are patterns-of-cultural-patterns. The metamemes are the hidden patterns of history.

***

Q: I’d still say that this is a history pertaining uniquely to humanity, right? Memes are about humans and the things we do. Humans have culture!

HF: Okay, so it is and it isn’t. Humans have more complexly malleable bodies (their brains, in particular) than other known creatures, and thus they happen to currently be the main carriers of cultural memes on our planet. Memes evolve prim­arily within and through humans. But hey, other animals have memes too. Researchers have shown that whales in the South Pacific have differ­ent songs that spread as fashions over time. Those are memes, too.

There is nothing special or chosen about homo sapiens per se. It might as well have been another creature that had become the main substrate of memetic evolution—and who knows, it probably will be sometime in the future. Octopuses come to mind; maybe (if bioengineering is applied) larger brains can be grown in those squishy wet things than in our rigid skulls. Maybe they can be a good seed for a superior substrate for memetic evol­ution; maybe other species will take up the baton of memetic history; maybe one day the entirety of human history will appear as trivial as whale songs traveling across the South Pacific. Our memetic descendants aren’t necessarily the same as our genetic ones.

So the main juxtaposition is not humanity versus nature, nor humans versus non-human animals. What a stupid, arbitrary, illogical division that would be! The main juxtaposition is between two different levels of emergence: genes and memes. Biology and culture. Genes come before memes. Culture is contained within the confines of biology, even as culture can operate upon and reshape biology (through selective breeding, genetic manipulation, food and lifestyles, and so on). Human biology is not, as many have claimed, “a constant”; it just evolves slower and by another logic, not least when affected by fast-evolving culture. Of course society shapes organisms, and thus biology. But memes are their own thing; they escape the limits of genetic evolution.

Memes create something beyond biology: imagined worlds of culture, religions, philosophies, paradigms, stories about the universe, grand dramas, narratives.

If we are, then, to go beyond our speciesist narcissism, and quite frankly grow the hell up, we need to start telling history like it is: not about humanity, but about memes. Humanity is only interesting because it happens to be good at carrying and thus generating memes, so that cultural evolution is sparked. What a spark, though!

If this seems a bit gloomy—if we feel a little less species-special—there is a silver lining to it. Namely, if we’re no longer “the chosen ones” we’re also off the hook in terms of species-specific guilt vis-à-vis the biosphere as a whole. It’s not that humanity is bad and nature is good. It’s that nature evolves into meme-carrying creatures, like you and me, and some memes tend to wreck their own biological substrate (just as biology has wrecked its geological substrate throughout the Earth’s history). That’s it. Memes can wreck the human body that carries them—Kamikaze pilots come to mind—or they can wreck the ecosystems they depend on. Ecological disaster can happen for a number of reasons (like comets or volcanos or systemic limits in a stage of biological development); the present crisis has emerged because memes follow another logic than ecological systems do. Our cultural evolution is shredding the basis of its own biological substrate.

The memes can sustain their evolution only by somehow adapting to and accounting for ecological systems. They must either include the biosphere, or perish. This clash between meme and gene, culture and biology, would have occurred even if memes evolved most rapidly through some other biological substrate, through another species. So if humanity is not special, this means we’re not “special good or bad”.

That being said, yes, we shall study human history in this book. And some biological properties that are particular to humans shape how our particular sequences of memes play out.

All said and done, welcome to this new—not modern, nor postmodern, but metamodern—view of cultural history. It’s about humanity as the essentially cultural mode of being in the universe. But the story is not inherently human-centric. It strives to link up seamlessly with “big history”, with emergence and complexity across all known phenomena. It strives to be cosmo-centric, and to reflect the values that care for all beings and the interconnectedness of all perspectives.

The next chapter, “Chapter 1, A Brief Introduction to the Metamemes Model” can be accessed here.

A webinar on the topic of world history and the six metamemes will be held this autumn, four weekends in a row November 2 – 25. More details about the course can be found here.

Hanzi Freinacht is a political philosopher, historian, and sociologist, author of ‘The Listening Society’, ‘Nordic Ideology’ and ’12 Commandments’. Much of his time is spent alone in the Swiss Alps. You can follow Hanzi on Facebook, Twitter, and Medium, and you can speed up the process of new metamodern content reaching the world by making a donation to Hanzi here.

Transforming Cultures and Selves: The Structure of Metamodern Religion IV

Guest post by the author of Octopusyarn.

I’ve speculated on the Structure of Metamodern Religion in terms of its philosophical and coordination layers. But how might all of this make a difference in your life? 

In order for Metamodern Religion to become a lived reality and actually have an impact on people’s lives, it needs to flow into culture, shared practices, and personal meaning. 

The last section of the tree explores the importance of ecologies of practice and how they manifest as personal meaning in Metamodern Spirituality. Just like Religion creates a numinous excess on the cultural level, Spirituality creates surplus coherence within a person.

Ecologies of practice

Psycho-technologies are a critical part of any religion. Religion is less about what you believe and more about what you practise. Only sustained engagement with practice over years will lead to personal transformation. And there is no silver bullet, one-size-fits-all practice. Rather, a range of practices that complement each other is a more promising approach. We can think of those as “Ecologies of practice” (Vervaeke). 

Most ecologies of practices combine personal, interpersonal, and collective practices. They also act on multiple levels, e.g. mind (attention/awareness system, relevance realisation, etc.), body (movement practices), and soul (emotional practices, ensoulment). The simple taxonomy below uses some of these distinctions to classify psycho-technologies into 9 categories. An effective ecology of practice would probably combine practices out of each of the categories. Note that each of these categories just contains a few examples, which could be further subdivided.

There are many other possible classifications that might be helpful to create a well-rounded ecology of practice. What is important is that the ecology supports the holistic development of its practitioners. That is to say, it includes practices that address different dimensions of development. Mental models are helpful in distinguishing between these dimensions and ensuring that practices for all of them are included in a given ecology of practice. Relevant models include John Vervaeke’s different kinds of knowledge (4P), Zak Stein’s Metapsychology, and the developmental model used by Hanzi

Different practices will work for different communities. Each “atomic community” will have its own ecologies of practice, as well as the institutions in which the different types of development take place. 

The role of Cosmopolitan Shamans will be to help construct and implement practices for a given community and support the development of their members, as well as exchange knowledge between communities.

Note that while the practices on the community and even interpersonal level may be institutionalised to a large degree, personal ecologies of practices may vary more, since they need to be adaptive with regard to the personality, development, and circumstances of that person.

Metamodern Spirituality

So how does all of this solve the meaning crisis? The entire structure of Metamodern Religion will manifest in different ways on a personal level. The shared elements from the overarching narratives to communal practices provide a fecund scaffolding for personal meaning to emerge. Metamodern Spirituality takes into account preferences, personal history, goals, idiosyncrasies, etc. Just like Religion integrates the strands of society into an overflowing coherence, spirituality creates “surplus coherence” on a personal level. This spirituality is always in relationship with others, the community, and the whole. So rather than an “individual”, we might use the term “dividual” to highlight the primacy of relationship and interconnectedness. 

The metamodern dividual will be deeply in relationship across different scales. We want development and harmonisation to take place at every fractal level:

  • Different parts of one’s psyche are in dialogue intra-psychically, leading to more and more harmony, acceptance, and self-knowledge.
  • Close interpersonal relationships will significantly shape the views of self, world, and purpose. Deepened by interpersonal psycho-technologies, these relationships – whether with parents, friends, lovers, or mentors – are foundational for personal meaning.
  • There will often be different-sized groups (depending on the social arrangements of a community) that provide anchor points for identity and purpose: from Squad (3-10 people) to Clan (20-50) to Tribe (150-250) and all the way up to the atomic community (thousands). Each of these will have its own missions, stories, practices, etc. that will shape its members.  
  • At last, there is also a relationship with the whole. A deep meaningfulness arises from the sense of interconnection with the planet, and from participating in the co-creation of God herself.

Across all of these scales of relationship, meaning arises because of the participatory and perspectival knowing that is cultivated through practices of different kinds and supported by appropriate narratives. Numinous excess emerges from harmonisation across the fractal. 

What specific practices will do that for a given person will depend a lot on their personality and circumstances. That is why a specific practice regime needs to be constructed for each person, ideally with the help of a local shaman. At the core of Metamodern Spirituality is the continued development of the person across different dimensions.  

Not just the practices need to be adapted on a personal level, but also the narratives and maybe even the art. From a shared grand narrative, the mycelium is winding all the way to the personal level where dividuals construct personal myths (e.g. described in Building the Cathedral). Artistic creation and even ritual engagement could help bring alive personal mythologies, similar to early experiments we are observing today (e.g. “Life Art”)

Proper participation means asking “what means “right relationship” here?”, “what is mine to do?”. Whatever talents,  predilections, and idiosyncrasies are present need to be cultivated and brought into participation. Notions of Unique Self and Ikigai come to mind. However, we don’t need to strive to create an integrated whole on a personal level, to become a fully coherent monolith. I think the goal of harmonious differentiation is more adequate for our times. A well-adjusted dividual hosts a symphony of selves. More on this here.

Alright, we are nearly at the end of our journey through the Structure of Metamodern Religion. 

It turns out, I turned the tree of life into a dense conceptual jungle, thank you for meandering with me. Here is the whole picture again:

What a treat to be thinking about how to address societies’ biggest problems with a complex system of interlocking holons that engender fractal transjective transformation to create a resilient social fabric. As ludicrously ambitious as it may seem, I think we have a real shot at solving both the meta crisis and the meaning crisis by supporting the development of Metamodern Religion.

The exciting thing is that all of these aspects mapped to the different spheres are already coming into being. Now. The galaxy brains linked throughout this text are busy tackling different aspects and are gathering communities and resources around themselves. Powerful psycho-technologies from yoga to meditation and psychedelics are entering the mainstream. More beautiful (and truthful) narratives than the old “infected monkeys on a small speck of dust lost in an infinity of empty space” are gaining hold. The AI community has realised that human alignment is the true alignment problem. Web3 is building new technologies for global coordination (when they are not busy scamming each other). We are seeing the shoots of new art forms emerge. 

Where do you want to contribute? You can pick a sphere of the structure presented here, jump around between them, or work your way up the tree. If you don’t know, the latter is probably a good place to start. See how you can rekindle meaning in your own life. Pick up some practices, or an entire ecology of them. 

You might also want to find the others: Liminal web, Metamodernism, GameB, Parallax, and TPOT are some of the venues where you might find them at the time of writing. But don’t get hung up on the names – the network of Cosmopolitan Shamans is fluid and fast-changing and the tantric spark tends to move as soon as any one of them becomes too well-known. 

I’ll wrap it with a list of further resources, all of which influenced this exploration significantly:

The author is a technology entrepreneur and investor who prefers to remain pseudonymous. 

On his blog, he expresses his long-standing interest in philosophy, psychology, and psycho-technologies. As a technologist, serious meditator, and denizen of the liminal web, he likes writing at the intersections of different fields.

Cosmo-local Coordination: The Structure of Metamodern Religion III

Guest post by the author of Octopusyarn.

Global problems from climate change to arms races need global, or better yet, planetary solutions. Religion may be able to defeat Moloch, where all international treaties have failed before. If it is to address the crises outlined in the previous part, Metamodern religion needs to enable Cosmo-local coordination. 

However, attempting to enforce a monolithic religion on a planetary level would likely lead to dystopian outcomes. Different cultures and ways of life need to be preserved, potentially even traditional religions like Christianity, with a few tweaks. The weaving of the social fabric happens on a local level. Cosmo-local coordination seems like the way forward: A minimal planetary layer that allows for a variety of local cultures.

The middle section of the tree contains both principles for global coherence and ways that they can manifest in a plurality of contexts.

Omni-consideration

At the core of a shared moral framework should be something like Omni-consideration, a term used by Daniel Schmachtenberger. 

What is the most fundamental lived reality of conscious experience? Suffering is bad, pleasure is good. This seems like an experiential axiom, whether we have a formalised theory of consciousness or not (Mike Johnson, the grey eminence of qualia structuralism, suspects valence might be the “Rosetta Stone” of consciousness). If this can’t be our shared basis for coordination, nothing can. 

Omni-consideration derives directly from this axiom of emotional valence: We should attempt to maximise pleasure and minimise suffering (over the long run). The concept of Human Rights is a subset of this way of thinking, but Omni-consideration goes much further: it implies care not only for all humans but all conscious beings (and the environment as a result). 

Omni-consideration implies the practice of considering the impacts of one’s actions and decisions on all stakeholders, including but not limited to oneself, other people, other species, future generations, and the environment. It also prohibits externalising harm somewhere else for the benefit of a narrowly defined group or outcome. To truly live this, decision-making would need to take into account the interconnectedness of living systems and n-th-order consequences. As elaborated by complexity science with its understanding of non-linear dynamics, we need profound humility when judging what effects any action may have. In terms of moral reasoning, this humility implies a parallax between utilitarianism, virtue ethics, and deontology. 

Planetary governance

We won’t get around sharing the same planet. Actions with a global effect (e.g. environmental damage) concern all of us. 

Planetary governance is the most important piece for solving the external Meta Crisis, and might only become possible through the spread of Metamodern Religion. Specifically, through the principle of Omni-consideration being taken seriously, supported by the structure of feeling within Integrative pluralism.

There are straightforward implications of Omni-consideration, such as a principle of non-violence and a notion of fundamental rights. In addition, More indirectly, it implies mitigating existential risks of all kinds – from rogue AGI to climate change. Uses of technology that endanger large swaths of the population or even the possibility of life on the planet altogether need to be strictly controlled. We need to learn how to live within planetary boundaries.

While a likely starting point is a social contract, eventually, there would need to be a planetary governance process (potentially combined with a monopoly of violence) around these issues in order to effectively enforce such rules. We already have bodies like the UN that try to guarantee and promote global peace and human rights with mixed results today. The current failure modes of the UN (e.g. stalemate in its security council, fossilised power relations from past wars, institutional bloat, etc.) would need to be addressed. 

As you surely notice, we’re entering geopolitical LaLa Land. 

How could we ever get everybody to agree on shared rules? Even less plausibly, how could we exit the arms races we are currently engaged in and get the powers that be to hand over their toys? How could a global monopoly of violence possibly not degenerate into a totalitarian one-world government because of unchecked power? Good questions, no easy answers. However, it seems inevitable that we will need some form of planetary governance because of the global nature of these issues. That fact that the largest collective bodies currently are nation states arguably exacerbates these issues through the competitive dynamics between countries. 

What does this have to do with religion? 

The only cases where coordination failures have been solved are to be found in religions. An example is Shabbat in Judaism, the day when it is prohibited to do any work at all. This rule is enforced to this day with strong social norms and deterrence by a large punishment. Religious law has successfully bound an arms race (on time spent working in this case) within Judaism (as Schmachtenberger explains), resulting in more social coherence.  In addition, Planetary governance is necessary as a political scaffolding that allows for the sefirot below to function. For example, universal freedom of movement between the different cultures and states is needed for Atomic communities to function.

Before any kind of planetary governance will become possible, there will need to be significant shifts in culture. Jeremy Johnson describes going planetary as moving beyond anthropocentrism and starting to relate to the Earth as a living system (see the Gaia hypothesis). It also entails a structure of feeling that makes global interconnectedness palpable on an everyday emotional level. As it turns out, a new aesthetic sensibility is not just required as a precedent for enabling planetary governance, but the keystone of the entire structure of Metamodern Religion. 

Integrative pluralism

At the very heart of this proposed structure for Metamodern Religion is Integrative Pluralism: the recognition that there are always multiple valid ways of understanding a situation and that by bringing these perspectives together, a more holistic and complete understanding can be achieved. Moving through Wilber’s quadrants, we can see the same issue from completely different points of view, subjectively, culturally, scientifically, and systematically. There is a fractal pattern opening up by zooming into each quadrant and applying the framework again, as demonstrated by Hanzi’s exploration of ethics.

“The task is to see reality as it is, the method is to look through millions of eyes”
—Nietzsche

We could therefore expect that the core task of Metamodern Religion will be to weave together these different perspectives, such as culture, science, and spirituality, with the human experience of our times. It should accommodate the integration and coherence between the different ontological categories and vantage points within them. Like a prism, Integrative pluralism crystallises all of the abstract sefirot above and emanates specific manifestations of them in the more concrete spheres below. 

The Glass Bead Game of harmonisation

This integration happens primarily through art. While it may seem daunting, this would not be the first time humans engage in sweeping religious integration: We can think of the great religious art of the past, from the Bible to Dante’s Divine Comedy, from the great Gothic cathedrals to Michelangelo’s frescoes as predecessors.

Before Metamodern Religion can emerge, we need an artistic renaissance. Entirely new art forms and practices are what will produce the symbols, myths, and collective experiences at the core of a new Cosmo-local religion. This process of harmonisation and integration reminds of Hesse’s Glass Bead Game, a fictional play that synthesises all arts and sciences. 

We need our own Glass Bead Games. Whether it’s interactive media, AI-powered experiences, VR/AR, or blockchain (or all of them), I expect technology to play a vital role too. I’d also expect the art to be much more participative and created by collectives rather than individual artists. 

The work of Olafur Eliasson is a prime example of art centred around multiperspectivalism, creating an aesthetic that works across cultural backgrounds and levels of development. Yayoi Kusama’s art re-enchants modernity with bright colours and opens up the sublime dimensions of the mundane. Early examples that lean into co-creation include experiences like Nora Bateson’s warm data lab, David Chapman’s hyperlinked books (e.g. Vividness) written in public, or genre-breaking experiments like Meaningwave or In Shadow. Laurence Currie-Clark has brought a version of the Glass Bead Game to life as a collective inquiry practice and is now expanding it into an experimental social media platform. Plantoids are an example of how the use of technology in art can engender co-creative spaces and ecological thinking.

The texture of numinous excess

This integration of different strands of a culture at any time is what generates the binding energy of religion. Layman Pascal describes it as the core of religion as a process: the “surplus coherence” achieved by this integration generates the “numinous excess”, the religious feeling of awe and wonder. Tiferet, the sefira at the very heart of the tree, where I placed “Integrative Pluralism”, is often titled “Beauty”. We will know our Glass Bead Games are working if they produce this sense of numinous excess in participants from diverse backgrounds. The task here is nothing short of building the cathedrals of our age. We need a return to beauty while still folding in the critical deconstruction that has been prevalent in contemporary art. 

The feeling structure of metamodern art is still in the process of unfolding. Some potential elements are the following: 

  • Metaxis. Holding sincerity and irony in superposition results in an in-between quality: neither entirely serious nor ironic, but both at once. From leaning into the apparent contradiction, a new kind of beauty emerges, like a moiré pattern. Irony adds dimensionality to the sincerity, while sincerity adds depth to the irony. Contemporary metamodern art is diffusing this sensibility to wider and wider audiences. 
  • Planetary Communitas: Communitas is the interpersonal connection our ancestors may have felt in their religious rituals. A blending between individuals into a felt sense of group-consciousness. We want a similar sensibility but with a wider circle of concern, including all of humanity, to other species, and to the planet itself. Not just understanding the interconnection of the ecosystem intellectually but viscerally feeling ourselves as part of its wholeness. 
  • Aperspectival hyper-textuality: I expect art forms enabled by technological capabilities (VR/AR/AI) that will be more interactive and informationally dense. This may induce a new sense of time created by the hyper-textuality of technological augmentation: Moving from linear time to what Gebser calls “aperspectival”, where the spectator/participant can zoom in or out, co-creating the art as different vantage points are activated. This may be a way to perceive Timothy Morton’s Hyperobjects

The jargon above is pointing at different potentially relevant elements and not to be mistaken for a complete description. 

Atomic communitarianism 

What do traditional religions and countercultures from hippies to reactionaries all have in common? They share the mistaken assumption of universalism: that their specific solution to social organisation is the best possible way of organising society everywhere, at all times. It seems obvious that there are certain trade-offs in cultural space and that for different people and circumstances, different solutions will better support their thriving: 

  • Different social norms may be required for different circumstances (e.g. variations on family structures vs. more tribal arrangements, monogamy vs. polyamory, more or less fluid roles in society, diet, etc.).
  • Different political and economical frameworks, and different relations to technology: from liquid democracy to a constitutional monarchy of philosopher kings, from neo-Luddism to fully-automated luxury communism.
  • Different variations of the overarching narratives, different shared rituals, and different archetypal myths, all coloured by the idiosyncrasies of place and culture. 

There is no universal answer for social organisation. Is it possible to rejoice in our differences instead of incessantly trying to convince each other that our way of life is “right”? A healthy social pluralism seems possible as long as we can agree on some minimal common ground to avoid diverging into factions so different they can’t communicate any longer. The principles of Omni-consideration and (minimal) Planetary governance are plausible directions. As long as anybody can freely move between communities, multiple solutions can be explored in parallel. 

In order for communities to function within Metamodern Religion, there will likely be some commonalities, including: 

  • A new localism and connection to the ecosphere, communities caring for their bioregions. 
  • A developmental approach, helping its members grow in different dimensions, supported by an ecology of practice. 

The general idea of this sefira is described in Scott Alexander’s Archipelago and Atomic Communitarianism. There is also an alignment on this point in the Game-B community, where so-called “Proto-Bs” could propose local solutions radically different in social architecture towards the same global aims of a thriving, non-violent, and sustainable culture. 

Cosmopolitan Shamanism

This is all quite complex. How could such a convoluted structure possibly scale to a global religion? 

The answer is that not everybody has to fully understand every part of it, participating is enough. I can type these words without knowing how my laptop works. It is much easier to function within a given system than work on the systemic level itself. Only a small part of the population will be called to do the latter and both help midwife Metamodern Religion and then improve and maintain it. These “shamanoid” personalities (as Bard calls them) would need to understand the functioning of the structure as a whole and likely undergo significant training to take up their role as stewards or “priests” of Metamodern Religion. I call them “Cosmopolitan Shamans” since they are needed across the different Atomic Communities all over the world, and at least some of them would also travel between them. 

Cosmopolitan Shamans have a number of critical functions across the structure of Metamodern Religion, both between and within Atomic communities: 

Between communities: 

  • Maintain and update the Structure of Metamodern Religion as situations change, e.g. its overarching narratives and shared standards.
  • Interconnect the different atomic communities to ensure alignment with the overall structure and transfer knowledge between them. 

Within communities:

  • Develop art, culture, and practices within atomic communities.
  • Steward the different atomic communities, ensuring sustainable bioregions, a healthy social commons, and the continued development of its members. 

Likely, different specialised roles would emerge to fulfil these different functions, i.e. staying in place to steward a specific community or travelling between them to facilitate knowledge exchange. Shamans may also be called to work on philosophical frameworks, narratives, or practices respectively, or to create art. There would need to be a globally connected network of Cosmopolitan Shamans that allows for their recruitment and training, as well as an exchange of knowledge and experience. The mycelium of Metamodern Religion. 

Since there is a significant degree of responsibility and power in this function, the membrane of who may take up the training needs to be clearly defined: Likely, self-selection, peer-verification, and mutual training would all be involved. Before being able to take up a specific role, aspiring shamans should demonstrate an understanding of core narratives and the underlying philosophy. They would also need to master a wide range of practices and show a strong ethical commitment. 

The shamanic network would need to be able to work with whatever power structure is at play (from technologists to political leaders) while maintaining independence from it. We can imagine a number of techniques from camouflage to an internal “immune system” for this shamanic network to maintain its independence. The network would also need to avoid institutional inertia and maintain its fluidity. While it may share elements with religious secret societies of the past, from the Freemasons to tantric Kaula, there will also be key differences: Since Cosmopolitan Shamans need to both be able to recognize each other and be recognized by all members of their communities, a paradigm of “self-secrecy” or “open conspiracy” seems more likely.

— 

Next: Bringing it home, into your life

From setting the context in the first part, to the philosophical musings in the second part, you’ve followed me through meandering and dense speculations of how a new religion could facilitate global coordination while remaining pluralist. The final part of the series will bring all of this home. Home into our own lives. We’ll look into how ecologies of practice can connect to these larger structures and lead to personal meaning and fulfilment. Metamodern Spirituality is doing the same work of integration and harmonisation that religion does culturally on a personal level. As above, so below. Stay tuned.

The author is a technology entrepreneur and investor who prefers to remain pseudonymous. 

On his blog, he expresses his long-standing interest in philosophy, psychology, and psycho-technologies. As a technologist, serious meditator, and denizen of the liminal web, he likes writing at the intersections of different fields.

A Headless God: The Structure of Metamodern Religion II

Guest post by the author of Octopusyarn.

In the previous part of this series, I have presented a broad definition of religion as the social fabric that orients culture through integration. I also made the case that in order to solve the Metacrisis and the Meaning Crisis, we will need to replace our deficient Western religion (a blend of consumerism, scientism, and humanism) with the emerging Metamodern Religion.   

This part focuses on the first of three sections of the tree, describing the philosophical framework for Metamodern Religion: bringing together science and post-structuralist insights while remaining flexible enough to hold multiple cultural interpretations, including traditional and indigenous ones.


  • The Ineffable, at the crown of the tree, at once enables and relativises the 2 following sefirot. 
  • A Post-Metaphysical God serves as a placeholder for the best possible integration of ultimate value and scientific understanding at any given time. 
  • Self-aware Narrativity allows this God to become antifragile through continuous deconstruction and hopefully prevents dogmatism and fundamentalism. 
  • Meta-rationality is the intellectual stance that can overcome relativist nihilism. It at once affirms rationality while acknowledging its limits, and aims to navigate between different modes of thinking. 

(?X?)

“The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao.“

Akin to the original kabbalistic scheme, we start with the ineffable i.e. REALITY beyond description. It seems like this fountain of mystery is shared by most of the world’s traditional religions. Just like the Tao can’t be named, God in the Abrahamic traditions cannot be pictured. Similarly in Hinduism: Brahman, the ultimate reality that underlies all of existence, is said to be beyond all name, form, or attributes – “neti neti” – not this, nor that. Also the (Mahayana) Buddhist concept of emptiness, Shunyata, points at an ultimate reality that lies behind the appearance of things, which don’t have inherent existence but arise dependent on one another. 

As perennialism asserts, this sort of non-dual mysticism seems shared by major religions. Any of the theistic traditions could insert their favourite term for God here as long as they concede that ultimate reality (God) can’t really be described and their name is as good as any other. Even though we may never hope to describe reality in its totality, we should not give into the temptation to cover up anything vaguely spiritual or complex with the veil of ineffability. We can become more precise in describing different states, stages, and aspects of reality, as argued by Layman

A key consequence of placing ineffable mystery at the crown sefira is that it allows for ingress of novelty into the system: as major breakthroughs are achieved, whether scientific, cultural, or spiritual, they come in from the top and percolate down to update the system appropriately. Just like in the original kabbalistic tree of life, the entire model below emanates from this point. The ineffable couples the system with reality, making sure the map never ceases to represent the territory accurately, and acting as a reminder not to mistake the former for the latter.  

Post-metaphysical God

What would religion be without a concept of God? Even though it’s arguable the term may carry too much historical baggage, it seems like an equivalent pointer of ultimate value is critical for the overall function of the system. Also for reasons of backwards-compatibility and inclusivity, it makes sense to call a spade a spade – and a God a God. 

However, it should be clear that we are not talking about an all-powerful personal God with agency, intentions, etc. The type of post-metaphysical God envisioned should be fully compatible with a rationalist/scientific worldview. Functionally, it provides a focal point for shared values as well as a container for the most parsimonious ontologies and cosmogony.

The values imbued should be maximally inclusive and universal. A plausible example are the “4L”, as described by Gregg Henriques:

  • Life – the living ecosystem and its continued increase in complexity
  • Love – the relational force between all of the parts; right relationship
  • Light – consciousness and the value of internal experience 
  • Logos – the patterning or order of the Cosmos, the ground of intelligibility 

It bears repeating that any post-metaphysical conception of God always grows from the unspeakable mystery (and can be shredded back into it). Any Metamodern God is always a God of the “in-between” – Deus Metaxy. God emerges from an ever-evolving, interconnected net of relations. In some instances, “God” as a concept may also be used to ground any axioms used, for example, fundamental physical forces or fields, time-space (or the place before/beyond it), or even consciousness. 

The post-metaphysical trinity   

In many religious systems of the past (e.g. Christianity or Hinduism) as well as more recent attempts from Wilber’s Religion of Tomorrow (which was influenced by Whitehead) and Bard’s Syntheism, God is split up in at least a triad of different aspects. It seems critical for a post-metaphysical God to be multi-dimensional to accommodate a spectrum of values and to ground different axioms. 

Forrest Landry’s Immanent Metaphysics is made for mapping abstract triples, so using its triplicate modular isomorphism to classify different ideas of holy trinities seems opportune. The table below includes the core values above, scientific axioms, Christian, Hindu, and Buddhist concepts, as well as relevant post-metaphysical conceptions of God by Bard and Wilber.

The examples above (and even the triplicate structure itself) are merely placeholders. A metamodern theology could be imagined as the continuous deconstruction and reconstruction of the post-metaphysical God. In order to truly reflect the best scaffolding possible at any time, this would require an ongoing interdisciplinary dialogue of scientists, mystics, and philosophers.

 

Grand narratives return in a mycelial form  

In addition to the God concept, we also need compelling and accurate stories about topics generally addressed naively by religions or unintelligibly by philosophers: 

  • The origin and teleology of the Cosmos, and our role in it as a species. 
  • The nature of the sacred, the good life, and their ethical implications. 
  • Kant’s 4 questions: “What can I know? What ought I to do? What may I hope for? What is man?” 

Importantly, we’re not looking for a single theory of everything, but a mycelial structure of coherent yet branching stories. We’d expect Bard’s categories of logical, mythical, and pathic narrative (as described in this short piece) to be present in many permutations: These stories need to resonate in different cultural environments and potentially even tie into previous religious traditions. We want stories so good that they’ll be declared as a lost Gospel or a new buddhist Terma by traditional religions.  

Traditionally religious speculations have already been coming back as hypotheses wrapped in “science-y” language for the past decades already (see the demarcation problem). The simulation hypothesis is just tech bro gnosticism. The Omega point and the singularity are Silicon Valley eschatology. Cosmological inflation, complexification, quantum entanglement, many worlds. Many words. And all of them have religious implications and offer competing grand narratives, whether their pundits admit it or not. Many of them tie in with great religious traditions and philosophers alike (Hegel, Whitehead, Bergson, de Chardin). A re-integration therefore does not seem out of reach, and we will continue to see more convincing attempts. The prototypical example is Wilber’s Integralism, and more recently, Metamodernism. Interesting attempts that focus even more on the narrative aspects continue to show up, e.g. Dempsy’s “Emergentism” or Azarian’s “The Romance of Reality”. 

While the vanguard of science is still undecided on major questions (e.g. interpretations of quantum mechanics or the nature of consciousness) and different narrative strands will end up with quite different interpretations, some common elements seem clear. First and foremost, a development through time with distinct phase changes of emergence with increasing complexity seems like a common denominator.

Gregg Henriques’ Tree of Knowledge system pictured above is a recent version of this general pattern. Humanity is at the cusp of this development toward higher complexity. We are the universe waking up to itself, or something like that.

Self-aware narrativity

Now that we’ve created God, it’s time to kill her again. We do that by realising that all concepts and stories are ultimately constructed and empty of inherent meaning, grounded in the principle of the ineffability of reality. The sefira of self-aware narrativity balances the creation of a post-metaphysical God with its deconstruction. However, this negation of Ultimate Truth does not mean that we are forever condemned to a relativistic nihilism of ever-fragmenting, incompatible narratives. Ihab Hassan intuits a via negativa opening up through the void of deconstruction. We will get back to “truth”, “trust”, and “spirit” through nihilism – “For only through nihilism is nihilism overcome.” (read Brendan Graham Dempsey’s analysis of Hassan’s essay here). 

Recognizing that all language games are constructed and result in different topologies of meaning and power protects against the pitfalls of dogmatism and universalism. However, just because we can never articulate the Ultimate Truth doesn’t mean we need to remain silent. We can move ever closer to the shifting of reality with more refined, coherent, and parsimonious narratives. Once we accept that, the task becomes affirming our shared humanity in the best story we can come up with at the time.

An anti-fragile God and made-up prophets

Being self-aware of its constructedness, a metamodern God needs to be able to sustain critique. Daniel Görtz describes this concept of a headless God as follows: “It is a God whose altar can be pissed upon, (who) is insulted again and again, yet remains sacred, and is resurrected. (…)” A metamodern God is “always on his way to the guillotine.” 

This dynamic creates antifragility: Whatever belief structures are left standing after repeated ferocious critique can be believed in with much more conviction. Critique also acts as a pruning function to get rid of structures no longer needed. There should be no hesitation in tearing down any narratives that are disproven by our scientific advances in order to reconstruct ones that better reflect reality. 

If we can acknowledge that our God is ultimately fictional, we can also extend that principle to our prophets. We don’t need historically accurate or even living mouthpieces of God, fictional prophets will do just as well. Arguably, made-up prophets are even better: It absolves any popularisers of Metamodern Religion from the need to live up to people’s expectations. Any human will invariably disappoint when perfection is projected on her. On the other hand, a fictional character can effortlessly fill the most heroic shoes. With fictional prophets, we neither have to wait for our saviour nor be devastated about the inevitable fall from grace of our priesthood. 

By shifting the focal point of imitation to fictional characters, we are also protecting against  gurus who soak up projections to become psychopaths drunk on power. It also invites others into co-creation: Since there is no need for historic accuracy or priestly authority, anyone can add to the mythos of our made-up prophets. The invitation even extends to putting on the mask of the prophet themselves, without ever identifying with it. In this way, the prophet stops being a person and becomes a mode of being.   

The great Hanzi Freinacht is a prime example: The persona of the Nietzschean philosopher with captivating jawbones and imposing beard allows the authors to enter a prophetic mode they might otherwise be too modest for, without taking themselves too seriously. 

Stealing the Culture

This ain’t no fun as a single-player game; Metamodern Religion only comes to life with a collective of believers. We need to “steal the culture”, as Vervaeke says. Metamodern Religion has structural advantages in the memetic landscape and could convert increasing numbers from both the “spiritual but not religious” crowd as well as traditional religions.    

The dialectic between the creation of a Post-metaphysical God and the deconstruction of Self-aware narrativity could produce ever more compelling narratives. As time progresses, the petrified dogmas of traditional religions will appear more and more inconsistent. All the while, the population on average develops further and Metamodern Religion will exert an inexorable pull on adherents of traditional religions. 

At the same time, more scientific minded people would notice that the stories are in agreement with their worldview but provide much more personal and collective meaningfulness, so they too would be tempted to join in. Filling the God-shaped hole in their hearts in a way that doesn’t compromise on rationality could seem like a no-brainer.  

Metamodern religion will only feel intersubjectively real once a critical mass of “believers” subscribe to it. Just because we know that it’s just a story we made up doesn’t make it feel any less real. To the contrary, many metamodernists will only believe a story because they know they made it up. There is a certain bootstrapping principle at play here that reminds the concept of Hyperstition. Like a collective placebo effect, we might be surprised how real our headless God will feel once enough of us have agreed on a version we could believe in. 

Meta-rationality: Crossing the abyss

Camus juxtaposed the seemingly inherent need for meaning with the “unreasonable silence of nature”, a condition he titled the Absurd. If all truth is socially constructed, and it’s all really just power games deep down, why do anything at all? This feeling of absurdity, and the relativistic nihilism implied by the postmodern metameme is the abyss we need to cross. 

Meta-rationality, as described by David Chapman, is the stance that can overcome this nihilistic attitude without losing any insights of the postmodern critique. It affirms that rational systems and truth seeking makes sense to a certain extent and in certain contexts. By distinguishing between different methods of rationality and explaining their applicability and limitations, we can have our cake and eat it too. Yes, there are real patterns out there. We can reason about them, and we can be closer or further away to describing them accurately. And no, most of reality can’t be formalised well enough to apply strictly rational methods to. A lot of things we care about are socially constructed and too nebulous and interactive to capture in formal systems. Sometimes we can still reason about them, but only with fuzzy logic, or as Layman Pascal suggests, using the operators “somewhat”, “kind of”, and “almost”. 

In the context of Metamodern Religion, Meta-rationality allows us to distinguish between areas where we can formally strive for a better solution (e.g. the degree to which narratives map onto scientific theory, the game theory involved in global governance, or the empirical effectiveness of psycho-technologies), and areas where multiple solutions are called for.  This meta-rational understanding allows us to hold both relativism/narrativity and the aspiration towards truth in parallax. What David Chapman calls the “complete stance” or the “fluid mode” is also in line with the Metamodern principle of sincere irony: We are ironic because we know it’s all just language games on some level and sincere because we also know that there are better or worse games we could play, and because there is profound value at stake. 

So we indeed each need to shape our personal meanings (as we’ll see in the final sefira), but those should connect to a larger narrative that affords social cohesion around shared values (getting us out of the Meaning Crisis). This collective narrative should also *almost* map to real patterns in “objective” reality.

The author is a technology entrepreneur and investor who prefers to remain pseudonymous. 

On his blog, he expresses his long-standing interest in philosophy, psychology, and psycho-technologies. As a technologist, serious meditator, and denizen of the liminal web, he likes writing at the intersections of different fields.

 

Deus ex Mycelio: The Structure of Metamodern Religion I

Guest post by the author of Octopusyarn.

I’m bored by both relativistic nihilism and naive magical thinking. I refuse to stop trying to deeply connect with others and nature, without believing in New Age fantasies. And it seems like I’m not alone. Over the last few years, I have found many others on the same journey, as well as a number of deep thinkers. I felt an irresistible pull from the work of Ken Wilber, John Vervaeke, Alexander Bard, Gregg Henriques, Daniel Schmachtenberger, Layman Pascal, and of course, the great Hanzi Freinacht. 

Over time, it became increasingly clear how their theories fit together in the same hyperobject: the religion of the future. I am convinced that religion is the solution to the crises of our times and that a new Metamodern Religion is already emerging. In this series, I summarise what I have found to be the most critical ingredients and suggest a structure of Metamodern Religion. This is a reworked version of what I’ve previously published on my blog Octopusyarn

The Structure of Metamodern Religion is a four-part series, laced with hyperlinks and hyperboles, synthesis and syncretism. On the other side of it, you will come out with a new understanding of what religion is, how Metamodern Religion could look like, and why it could literally save the world. 

Re-weaving the crumbling social fabric 

The etymology of religion is the Latin “Religio”, which means “to bind together”. 

It’s easy to discard “religion” altogether when it is understood merely as superstitious adherence to conventions of a designated holy book, as the “new atheists” have shown. Yes, an all-powerful, all-benevolent creator reigning from the heavens does seem like a childish projection of a father figure. Shitting on Sky Daddy may be fun and allow detached analytical types to feel superior, but it’s cheap to dunk on a strawman.

“God” likely wasn’t considered “supernatural” in most cultures, rather as the very essence of nature, the creative process or any natural force that much exceeds the power of humans. Concepts such as “money”, “nation”, and “individual” may seem just as superstitious and silly to future generations. In other words, most modern people use the term religion only to refer to others’ collective beliefs, not our own. 

In this exploration, we define religion as the fabric that ties society together. And what tied traditional societies of a distant past together won’t be able to take on that role today. This broader view of religion also includes our stories about technology, art, nation states, etc. The anthropologist Clifford Geertz defines religion as a “system of symbols which acts to establish pervasive and long-lasting moods and motivations in society”. 

Any widely shared beliefs, stories, and practices could be conceived of as religious in this broader definition that we are considering here. From trust in the institution of science to the story of progress through globalisation to the ritual of accepting printed paper for goods – it’s all religious in this broader framing. 

If most people think of traditional religions like Christianity or Hinduism when they hear “religion”, why use the term at all? Or why not relativize it with a workaround like “the religion that is not a religion”? Admitting that we need religion puts us on equal footing with those who came before us and helps dispel the apparent dichotomy between science and religion. 

Weaving this shared social fabric of religion may be the only way to organise society past the Dunbar number. And that social fabric is crumbling. 

We are enjoying higher living standards than ever globally (e.g. as chief establishment optimist Steven Pinker argues). Yet there are increasing reports of chronic anxiety and depression, isolation, and meaninglessness. It seems clear that material comfort is not enough, many are yearning for more. A point in case is the huge upsurge in interest in online philosophers, from the “Peterson-mania” to Vervaeke’s “awakening from the meaning crisis”. 

Religion provides this “moreness”, this numinous excess. Layman Pascal proposes that religion is fundamentally about the harmonisation and integration of culture, technology, politics, at a given time and place. If this religious integration is successful, it results in an excess of meaning that binds communities together. From this point of view, religion stops seeming like an antiquated mode of superstition. Rather, the prospect of the emergence of a religion that can create the needed coherence for our times suddenly seems like an urgent priority. 

Note that I used the word “emergence”, not “creation”. The religion of tomorrow will emerge and evolve bottom up, not be dictated top-down. Religion seems to be very much like language, and we’ve seen plenty of failed top-down invented “better” languages as well as religions, from Esperanto to the Cult of the Supreme Being

Globalist religion: Human, Science, and Capital

Old Friedrich declared the death of God more than 140 years ago. And the damn corpse has been rotting for so long that we can no longer ignore the stench. As social animals that relate to the world and each other through justifications, it seems like we need a narrative that gives purpose to our lives. Yet more and more find it impossible to believe in the dogmas of traditional religion, or to participate in their dead rituals. 

Alexander Bard asserts that we are inherently religious and that our reaching for a unifying mythos is non-negotiable, even automatic. Even if God is dead, we can’t help but create a new one, even unconsciously. Modern society was never atheist, it just pushed its pantheon into the unconscious. 

Some might argue that Capital has become our new God – Mammon, a delicious throwback to the biblical golden calf. Or that in Napoleonic arrogance, we have crowned ourselves in the advent of humanism. Many have remarked how the popular understanding of science has become ironically religious, scientism. 

Anthropos on the throne, Scientia to her right, and Mammon to his left. 

This trifecta of the dominant modernist religion seems fitting, since humans are now literally the force shaping our planet (Anthropocene, etc.). Homo Deus wields weapons many orders of magnitude more powerful than what the Gods of old could dream of. Little Boy makes Thor’s hammer and Zeus’ lightning look like Nerf guns. Armageddon is just an autocrat with a big red button away. 

As Daniel Schmachtenberger diagnosed astutely, a civilization with godly power but lacking in wisdom will self-terminate inexorably. And even if we don’t blow ourselves up, we will eventually degrade the very substrate we depend on in our mindless striving for (economic) growth and progress, as mandated by the archangels of consumerist humanism.  

Our unconscious global religion not only fails to put us in right relationship with each other and the planet, but it also can’t answer our call for meaning. In this sense, it doesn’t adequately function as a religion. The social cohesion it provides is fragile at best. We are left trapped in a state of the Absurd – feeling atomized, alienated, and nihilistic.

A more adequate religion could at once provide the mythos needed for civilization not to self-destruct and at the same time answer our yearning for personal and collective meaning.

The crisis of our times

We are currently accelerating in a multi-dimensional, ontology-crossing, mega pickle of a crisis. The tricky part about this crisis is that it plays out both in the world out there (from climate change to nuclear risk) and in our subjective experience (atomization, lack of meaning). Even though they are interconnected, it makes sense to look at each distinctly to help make the issues more tractable. The Meta Crisis (external) and the Meaning Crisis (internal).

The Meta Crisis: Dystopias or catastrophes  

Climate change, inequality, nuclear risk, and other pressing issues share the same root causes. Schmachtenberger’s core insight is that there is a common generator function behind all of these seemingly distinct crises: coordination failure in multipolar traps. Overuse of the commons, arms races, and the failure of international agreements all share the same basic game theory. 

Technology is oil on the fire of this already precarious situation: Our current social media makes us more distracted, divided, and confused, reducing our ability to act wisely. The degradation of the information sphere is upstream of any solution to any of the other crises. At the same time, every new exponential technology that comes online adds another potential catastrophic failure into the mix (see Bostrom’s vulnerable world hypothesis). 

A strong attractor of reigning in technological risk and dealing with our inability for collective sensemaking is authoritarianism powered with ubiquitous AI surveillance (China seems to be heading in that direction). The other large attractor basin is catastrophe: Just one of the growing existential risks needs to blow up to get us there. 

We are looking for a third attractor that isn’t catastrophe or dystopia. I’m arguing that Metamodern religion is what could get us there. 

The religion of tomorrow needs to resolve these existential risks and address their root cause of coordination failures. Since all of these issues are global in nature, we need a religion of global scope. As ludicrous as this may sound, I believe this may be our only hope to return humanity to its proper place as the nervous system of Gaia, instead of a cancer eating away at the very substrate that sustains it. 

The meaning crisis: why life doesn’t make sense anymore

In addition to these “objective” crises, we are facing a “subjective” crisis of meaning. From Marx to Byung-Chul Han, the persistent alienation and atomization of “modern man” has been diagnosed to death without being able to shift us out of the predicament. Whether we call it “left brain chauvinism” (McGilchrist) or the “tyranny of the propositional” (Vervaeke), there seems to be something off at the very core of our culture. 

Vervaeke’s work provides critical pieces of a solution: The process of relevance realisation, if liberated from parasitic processing, can return us to a multi-modal connectedness to the world around us and one another. Ecologies of practices can afford an “optimal grip” on reality characterised by flow and insight cascades. 

Traditional religions hold cues to what other aspects are needed: shared myths, symbols, and rituals. We need social connectivity at that middle layer of the fractal between persons and the state: Strong families, collectives, and communities. 

Towards Metamodern Religion

That more adequate religion could be described in many ways: the “religion of tomorrow” or “post-metaphysical religion”. I will use “Metamodern Religion” because of the connotations that come with the term: a cultural shift that integrates prior modes and a superposition of sincerity and irony.

Metamodern Religion faces the Herculean task of resolving both the Meta Crisis and the Meaning Crisis, addressing our most pressing issues both internally and externally. 

In summary, we note the following requirements for Metamodern Religion: 

  • Provide a sense of personal and shared meaning by integrating culture, science, and art. 
  • Provide a unifying narrative and ecologies of practice that allow for different ways of living without losing coherence and fragmenting into competing sects. 
  • Address the generator function of existential risk, resolving coordination failures.
  • Last but not least, it should prevent the failure modes of previous religions, including weaponization for controlling the population and petrification into outdated dogma. 

Good luck with that, right? 

I’m not mad enough to propose a new global religion (looking at you, Syntheists). This is an exercise of connecting the dots that are emerging already and imagining a fully functioning structure. 

In the forthcoming three parts of this series, I synthesise the work of many eclectic geniuses who have inspired me. I’m proposing a structure that puts the different spheres they have been developing into dialogue and allows them to reinforce one another.

The structure follows that of the kabbalistic tree of life. The 10 spheres (“sefirot”) both allow for flexibility while providing useful constraints. I imagine the living body of Metamodern Religion from the Ineffable to Metamodern Spirituality.

 

Each of the 10 sefira is a critical limb of Metamodern Religion, working in unison with the others. From top to bottom, they move from more abstract/philosophical into concrete, lived realities. We’ll start our walk through the Structure at the top in the next part.

The author is a technology entrepreneur and investor who prefers to remain pseudonymous. 

On his blog, he expresses his long-standing interest in philosophy, psychology, and psycho-technologies. As a technologist, serious meditator, and denizen of the liminal web, he likes writing at the intersections of different fields.

Neuroatypicality Is the Shamanism of Late Modernity

Neuroatypical people often have a mixture of very strong and very weak sides compared to the average. This puts them in a strange category besides the conventional hierarchies of society.

Why are so many metamodernists neuroatypical?

As an author on the topic of metamodernism I have not been able not to notice the extreme over-representation among metamodernists of some form of neuroatypicality and otherwise far-from average nervous systems:

  • from ADHD in its different variants (which alone may account for as much as fifty percent of the community) including what was formerly known as ADD, to high-functioning autism, to dyslexia, to highly sensitive persons, to unusual propensities for having spiritual experiences, to chronic fatigue syndrome, to lucid dreamers, to bipolar disorders, to non-cis genders and sexualities, to of course strong currents of psychedelic culture and experience.

As I have argued, metamodernism is the social current at the crux of the Triple-H population: Hackers, Hippies, Hipsters. Or Quadruple-H population, if you count Hermetics — people interested in sincerely-ironically reviving the occult.

Metamodernism is the current that comes after “postmodernism”. Metamodernism takes “a left turn” on modern progress, exploring other directions of its possible development than “more tech, bigger markets, the spread of liberalism”. This can include such things as a renewed interest in spiritual and psychological development, an experimental sociology that tries out and evaluates new forms of living and working together, and of course arts and culture that express the structures of feeling and mind that draw beyond the confines of modernity’s long arc.

It’s a self-selection pattern

One of the most overlooked forces in structural analysis (race, gender, class, privilege, reproduction of norms) is self-selection.

For instance, a more nuanced perspective on gender than what passes for the liberal mainstream’s feminism is to see how gender discrimination (which indeed exists and explains a lot) interfaces with self-selection pressures. As such, you can see that people in highly gender-equal countries like Sweden, the genders actually select more different professions (tech vs. medicine/care), because people can choose more freely.

Likewise, we may hypothesize with good reason that social movements and currents are subject to extreme self-selection patterns. Nazis will very likely have lower-than-average agreeability (on the Big 5 personality scale), for instance. People with this profile are much more likely to select themselves for a really tough ideology and social setting. Charity workers will on average have high agreeability.

Metamodernism is a very complex pattern and category. It straddles tech, culture, politics, spirituality/religion, philosophy, psychology, and much else… and as such it gathers people with very different profiles. But what all of those profiles have in common is that they are far-from-average-in-multiple-ways.

Far-from-average-in-multiple-ways in terms of capacities and personality means that a) there are some things that are very easy to most people that are very hard for you, and b) there are some things that most people could not do but you for some reason have a talent for.

This means that everything around you — the education system, job market, norms of daily interaction, even clothing and furniture — is maladapted to your needs and potential. In turn, this means that you need a wider and more complex and sensitive social pattern than modernity to make use of your unique strengths and balance your weaknesses. You need more complex expectation management: more room for ups and downs, for the dramatic, the shifts between the tremendous and the utterly pathetic. Modern life cuts you off. It’s a straightjacket for you.

And so, metamodernists self-select because they have unusual minds. And so they begin to try to weave a social fabric that can withstand such vast differences in human expression. For my part, my mentors in life have included an OCD-mega-reductionist math-professor who loves cars, and a super-sexualized-mega-spiritual-not-so-intellectual lady who could blow up the EEG brainwave meter by putting herself in a trance at will in seconds (but both had in common that they really liked to talk about themselves in quite positive terms). What’s the structure of mind and feeling that includes such extremes, that can make the best of them, that can meet their respective needs?

Trans-hierarchicality: the shaman returns

So what happens to people who are far-from-average-in-multiple-ways is that they gain some pretty unique insight into the frailty and arbitrariness of social hierarchies: every now and then people notice your strong sides, and assume you’re walking around in God mode, and every so often they notice your weak side and write you off as far, far below them.

It’s confusing for everyone involved, not at least for the neurodivergent person herself. It usually takes years and years to settle on a path in life and set nuanced and reasonable expectations upon life, as one gets so wildly conflicting messages and feedback about one’s capacities.

And it’s confusing for other people. The folks who wrote off the neuroatypical person as slow, incompetent, socially awkward, weird, or whatever it may be, aren’t exactly thrilled to find out that same person hangs out with people far above themselves in social hierarchy and the neurodivergent one is apparently respected by these.

Now, it’s unfortunate but it’s true, that it has been experimentally shown again and again (behavioral biologist Robert Sapolsky goes through the studies in his magnum opus, Behave) that ambiguous social hierarchies cause profound anxiety. And why wouldn’t they? Think about it: we’re social beings living in a social universe where all of our expectations upon life hinge on how we perceive and reconstruct social hierarchies. If there is unclarity around this, we never know if we might suddenly wake up tomorrow and be the beggar, the laughing stock, or just the bland loser nobody respects. We all want some kind of certainty to hold on to, to know what to expect, what to prepare ourselves for, to strive for.

Many of the neuroatypical people somehow fall between the cracks of the social hierarchies of everyday life: like Diogenes, they can live on the street but have Alexander the Great come visiting, so to speak. They can be famous but poor. Rich but lonely. Awkward but admired. They can oscillate between unemployment and top-tier jobs.

Are they competent or incompetent? Lazy or hard-working? Popular or lame? Who the hell knows. It’s confusing.

And it can be frustrating, enormously so. Sometimes it can trigger extremely negative reactions — witch hunts in some societies obviously; in late modernity usually just the more “normal” people reacting against “the arrogance” of the neurodivergent ones, against the sense that they must somehow have cheated. They must have! Come on, how could this loser who cannot tie his shoes and hold a normal conversation suddenly be making thrice my salary? It doesn’t make sense. How come a person who cannot stand up two rounds in normal cantine banter can have wider and more high-tier networks than I do?

And so, there’s hate. There’s envy and jealousy. There are conspiracy theories and shit-talk about the neurodivergents. It is what it is. It’s human. It comes from the social hierarchies getting blurred in genuinely painful ways.

But the truth is that very neurodivergent people are besides the hierarchies of mainstream society. Sure, they can end up top, bottom, or anywhere in between. You can have ADHD and become homeless, sure. Speaking in Darwinian evolutionary terms, ADHD or the like are high-risk strategies. It’s far from equilibrium, so to speak. Anything can happen. Suicide is also over-represented, as are family histories involving schizophrenia.

However, quite often it just means that you end up here and there across the normal hierarchies: and this tendency is strengthened so much in the days of the Internet, where you can try out so many more social contexts so much easier.

So neuroatypicality strongly correlates with trans-hierarchality. You’re not immune to hierarchies. You’re not above and beyond them. But, once you’ve found your feet in life with some extreme weaknesses and strengths, you begin to land in a confusing mix of high and low places in the social hierarchies.

You land in a strange place beside the social hierarchies, where you have a side-view of them, where they become see-through to you.

And this trans-hierarchality is exactly the position of the shaman. In animist societies you literally have shamans prancing about and acting outside of the roles normally assigned in the tribe: spirits and ancestors come and go according to their own logic. For late modernity, you have something new but similar:

  • Whereas the shaman can spellbind the animist “normies” with magic, invoked spirits, and by breaking taboos, today’s counterpart does very little magic in the realm of natural science, but instead seems to break the laws of social science: “The world doesn’t work like that. You’re not supposed to be able to do that. Or at least not somebody like you.”

It’s a version of performing little miracles, of walking on water. How on earth is my bum buddy an advisor to the minister? And why did he get the advice from a person now deceased from suicide? What’s going on?

The fringe at the center of it all

And so, this late-modern shamanism interconnects the classes of society. It interconnects the most divergent personalities. It includes people who frequent the psychiatric ward, the people who work there as doctors and therapists, and the theorists who in turn inspire those. It struggles through its apparent social magic to weave a pattern that holds across all of these settings— one that would include and care for not just the average human, but for humanity in all of her split-up and divergent glory.

There is thus, for all of its particularity — nay, because of its extreme particularity — an exceedingly universalist striving that animates this entire movement: metamodernism. And social theorists have for a long time held that emancipation, i.e. the processes that may increase human freedom and spiritual or existential progress, is that which breaks out of the confines of particular interests and asserts the universal.

The truly interesting part is that today, in the Internet age, it is the first time that shamans can work together at scale. Up until now they have always been outnumbered by their social surroundings. And as these begin to — well, I’m not sure “organize” is the right word — let’s say do their thing in concerted manners, they thereby interconnect the world’s social fringes with its center, its destitute and powerless with its rich and powerful, its cultural elites with its bible belts.

At a collective level the neuroatypical people — when these create a side-view culture, metamodernism — become a global shaman: doing their social magic, they transform the directions that society’s development can take and open our doors of perception towards the universal.

Neuroatyicality is the shamanism of late modernity.

Don’t believe me? What do you think Greta Thunberg and Elon Musk have in common?

Hanzi Freinacht is a political philosopher, historian, and sociologist, author of ‘The Listening Society’, ‘Nordic Ideology’ and ’12 Commandments’ and the upcoming books ‘The 6 Hidden Patterns of History’ and ‘Outcompeting Capitalism’. Much of his time is spent alone in the Swiss Alps. You can follow Hanzi on Facebook, Twitter, and Medium, and you can speed up the process of new metamodern content reaching the world by making a donation to Hanzi here.

An Open Invitation to a Metamodern Sociology

—An ironically sincere invitation to future scholars—

This article was first published as an independent chapter in the book Dispatches from a Time Between Worlds: Crisis and emergence in metamodernity, from 2021, an anthology edited by  Jonathan Rowson and Layman Pascal. The following text has been slightly edited to fit the format of an online article.

 

Illustration: Vanitas of Metamodern exhibition by François Réau, Corine Borgnet and Ekaterina Panikanova, Antwerp Art Weekend 2021.

 

Before we begin, it is important to mention that “Metamodern sociology” can mean two quite different things, viewed from opposite but mirroring positions:

  • First meaning: The descriptive sociology of metamodern society – its emergence, social logic, structures, causes, consequences, dynamics, central processes, culture and lived experience. This line of inquiry expands into sociological descriptions of “metamodernity” as a certain societal condition, and into “metamodernism” as a social, political, cultural and academic movement. In other words: This is sociology applied to metamodernism; sociology in any qualitative or quantitative form with metamodernity and/or metamodernism as its object of study, “the sociology of metamodernism”, if you like. As such, it can be categorized alongside other “hyphen sociologies” like the sociology of poverty, the sociology of religion, the sociology of death – and so forth.
  • Second meaning: The discipline of sociology itself, as understood, practiced and developed from sensibilities pertaining to the culture and philosophy of metamodernism. This guides us towards the question: What does society look like from a metamodern lens? How does a metamodern sensibility (in terms of ethics, ontology, spirituality, aesthetics, epistemology and political goals) shape the discipline of sociology, if, indeed, such a disciplinary delineation is still deemed appropriate to the metamodern observer? Such questions can be answered only through developments of sociology proper, i.e. the proposition and argumentation for novel theory, meta-theory, methods, methodology, and the topics and rationales for research questions within sociology.

The two meanings are, unsurprisingly, intertwined. Hence, they should also be discussed together, reflecting upon each other. Yet, they must be clearly distinguished as separate issues, and only then be carefully braided as two streams.

In the following, the focus will primarily be upon the latter of the two – sociology as viewed from a metamodern understanding – but it ends with briefly revisiting the topic of how metamodern society can be studied, a few suggestions primarily for aspiring scholars of this uncharted field.

Against periodization

A guiding light in both angles of approach, however, is that there is indeed something that can meaningfully be called metamodern (a descriptive), metamodernity (a state of affairs in society, a certain configuration) and metamodernism (a certain sensibility, movement or project). This is and remains the working hypothesis of metamodern sociology.

At the heart of it all is a simple developmental model: the idea that societal development occurs through a number of profound, qualitative shifts: from modern society, to a postmodern deconstructive critique of the latter, to a metamodern synthesis of these two, the later taking deliberate steps to reshape modern society and its prevailing social logic, drawing upon, but not limiting itself to, the postmodern critique. After the postmodern deconstruction, follows the metamodern reconstruction. Or, rather, reconstruction is the endpoint of deconstruction; the former follows from the latter.

That is, ultimately, what metamodernism is about; it takes modern society itself as its object, picks it apart with a postmodern sensibility, and then begins to put the parts together in new ways, into new relations, human and posthuman (including other fundamental categories such as technology, the biosphere and non-human animals). Modernity flows from the dynamics of pre-modern society (traditional, or what I have termed postfaustian, which in turn builds upon earlier stages[i]); postmodernism can only emerge from the backdrop of modern society; metamodernity (or: metamodern society) emerges as people can conceptually and socially step outside of the “modern world” and view it as an object that can be reshaped from the inside-out, in synthesis with the multiple anti-theses produced by postmodern critique.

A few words about this progression, from the modern, to the postmodern, to the metamodern, would be in order. There is, in my mind, a widespread misunderstanding of how this is to be approached – the fallacy of periodization, a description of historical epochs that are taken to have certain properties: a modern period, a postmodern period, and a metamodern period.

Adorno famously wrote that “Modernity is a qualitative, not a chronological, category”.[ii] This comment incisively captures the crux of the matter: Viewed from a sociological vantage point, there is little meaning in historical periods and years. Historiography, in the words of Wilhelm Windelband, is ideally an entirely ideographic enterprise, i.e. it describes chains of events qua events, and it focuses on the particularity of facts and emergences located specifically within space, time and sequence. Sociology is located within the social sciences, and as such it always strives towards at least some generalizability, i.e. it is ultimately what Windelband would have called a nomothetic endeavor, a study of regularities of the social universe. Periodization can never be truly ideographic nor nomothetic. Obviously, modernity did not “occur” during certain year, nor did it end and postmodernity begin at another year. As the 19th century classical sociologists struggled to grasp it, modernity is a certain pattern of widely interconnected phenomena, certain abstracted qualities that seem to describe deep-rooted properties of a society in its entirety; the explanatory relations between said properties.

Much confusion has come from this fallacy, and, as a result, the exploration of the modern, postmodern and metamodern quickly reaches an analytical impasse in many, or even most, of its students. Vermeulen and van der Akker have suggested that metamodernism is a period shaped by certain events, but they cannot provide any full description or explanation for as to which pattern connects these events.[iii] Correspondingly, contemporary sociologists have been reluctant to describe the present period as “postmodern” and have suggested terms such as “late modern” (Giddens)[iv], “liquid modernity” (Bauman), “second modernity” (Beck) and so on – perhaps, a wise caution. In my view, these sociologists notice the fact that, yes, there are indeed new trends and social logics cropping up in society, but that the prevailing social logic is fundamentally still guided by what may be described as modernity.

The simple reason for this confusion, I believe, is that the question is incorrectly posed. The answer to the question of “when is modernity/postmodernity/metamodernity?” always depends upon the more fundamental question of what each of these is. The answer to that question, in turn, depends less upon certain historical events, and more upon how these three categories are defined; firstly, as different sequences of unfolding logics or dialectics, the latter following from the dynamics of the former; secondly, as different aspects or dimensions of each (I will describe six such different aspects shortly).

The idea of “the metamodern” is thus a heuristic tool; it does not presuppose exactly what “metamodern” is or means, but it stipulates that such a phenomenon can be explored and that the concept’s predictive value can increase as the descriptive, deductive, analytical and interpretive concepts are developed and refined.

In accordance with metamodern sensibilities, the concept of metamodernism can itself be viewed as being held with “sincere irony” – a synthesis between the sincere belief in progress (of developmental psychology, stage models of perspectives upon the world, dialectical dynamics that seem to stabilize around certain equilibria), and the ironic distance to any such models and sense of direction, an admission that our models and paradigms are always limited and, ultimately, partly mistaken. But even “the synthesis” can be taken as too literal, too monolithic and uncritically held as a belief. Hence, the metamodern sociologist’s belief in metamodernism is rather a proto-synthesis; a proposed, ironically held heuristic of descriptive and prescriptive models of society and reality.

Metamodernism in six dimensions

With this pragmatically self-depreciating view in mind, the complex we call metamodern-metamodernity-metamodernism can be viewed in six distinct but deeply interrelated ways:

  • as a cultural phase that comes after and redeems the cynicism and irony of postmodernism with a “new sincerity” which coexists peacefully with postmodern irony (such as in the work of Vermeulen and van der Akker, comparable to the work of cultural theorists on post-postmodernism, digimidernism, transmodernism, performativism, postconstructivism, enactivism – describing trends within culture at large, pop culture, visual arts, theatre, architecture, literature, music, film and so forth);
  • as a developmental stage of society and its institutions, one that emerges and stabilizes after modern society (such as my own work, comparable to Ken Wilber’s integral theory, Jürgen Habermas’s and Günther Dux’s developmental sociologies, ideas about new Kondratiev waves of economic life, like Paul Mason’s “postcapitalism”, economic stage theories like Klaus Schwab’s “fourth industrial revolution”, Manuel Castell’s “network society” and, more indirectly, the holistic sociologies of Roy Bhaskar and Edgar Morin);
  • as a meta-meme, i.e. a deep-lying pattern-of-patterns within the realm of meaning-making and symbols, with its own social, economic and technological dynamics, that are likely to emerge together in a coherent, non-arbitrary manner in historical sequence, where the different parts resonate with one another and mutually reinforce each other, particularly around the emergence of a digitized internet society (this is explored in my own upcoming work, The 6 Hidden Patterns of History and it has a precedent in e.g. the work of Jean Gebser);
  • as a relatively late and rare stage of personal development – cognitive, emotional, existential and relational (as studied in adult development psychology, where later stages of a more self-transforming mind are studied in different ways by such theorists and researchers as Robert Kegan, Susanne Cook-Greuter, Michael L. Commons, Michael Basseches, Kurt Fischer, Theo Dawson, Terri O’Fallon, Clare Graves, Gerald Young and others, myself included with my work on the “effective value meme” of a person);
  • as a certain paradigm, with its own philosophy with accompanying theologies (which includes a family of ideas concerning ontology, epistemology, aesthetics and ethics – such as Karen Barad’s agential realism and onto-epistemology, Quentin Meillassoux’s speculative realism, perspective-participatory views of reality and “entanglement”, belief in potential rather than actuality as the ground of reality, developmental views of emergence, chaos, complexity and cybernetics, multi-perspectivalism, the revisiting of process philosophy in Whitehead and Peirce, critiques of anthropocentrism and humanism, holistic views that put spirituality and studies 1st person phenomenological or experiential perspectives at the center, developmental semiotics and cyber-semiotics, syntheistic theologies, transdisciplinary studies and meta-theories which map out non-arbitrary relations between different injunctions into reality, fractal perspectives of reality and phenomenological experience in which for instance the relation between natural and social sciences are viewed as contained within one another in fractal patterns, relationality as an ontological basis, deconstructive critiques of the naïve experience of the self as a discrete object, transpersonal perspectives that try to go beyond ideas of “the individual” and “the collective”, critiques of linear statistical inference in favor of the study of emergent patterns, a holistic view of information theory, and an embrace of both-and thinking and self-critical embrace of paradox and the brokenness of reality’s self-organization; these abstractly interrelated strands represent different versions of neo-Hegelianism and post-Kantianism, tending towards “non-dual” spirituality and a distancing from Cartesian dualism in its various forms). Obviously, the interconnecting links between all of these philosophical projects are far from evident; rather, I hold, there is a profound structure to the metamodern mind, the contours of which can thus far only be vaguely sketched, and much work remains to be done in terms of formulating the key principles underlying the metamodern philosophy proper, as well as within the sociology of knowledge concerning from which social contexts such ideas emerge;
  • as a certain movement or project, emerging primarily in relatively “progressive” countries and segments of “developed” societies, largely from postmodern strata of the population (animated by sentiments of oscillation, superposition (in the quantum sense), or both-and thinking, where you hold two polarities in mind at the same time: such as sincere irony, informed naiveté, magical realism, relative utopia, the crossroads of fact and fiction. This movement – with its intermeshed strands of cultural, aesthetic, political, psychotherapeutic and organizational efforts – is driven by ideals of creating open participatory processes, collective intelligence, inner work and “embodiment”, co-development, and an experimental view of rituals as well as attempts to “re-construct” everyday life and social reality, as well as attempts to bridge and synthesize perspectives of the Left and Right and the different sides of the culture wars, e.g. between traditionalists and progressives. Metamodernists tend to emphasize inner development as a political and sociological issue, deliberation, process and perspective taking as political tools, and focus on the intersection of inner depth and outwards complexity. The demographics of this movement is primarily drawn from what I have termed the Quadruple-H population (Hipsters, Hackers, Hippies and Hermetics – more on these below)).

As the reader may have noticed, periodization is not one of these six categories. Metamodernism is not a period, not an epoch. It is what Sean-Ebjörn Hargens has termed a “multiple ontological object”[v]; it is many realities at once, and no single aspect or angle-of-attack captures it fully or even very meaningfully and usefully. Metamodernism is thus both a cultural phase, and a developmental stage of society, and an abstracted meta-meme, and a stage of personal development (with different complexly intertwined sub-categories thereof), and a philosophical paradigm, and a movement with a certain project for culture and society.

I would like to be direct here: Until scholars, students and other agents of metamodernism learn to distinguish between these six meanings of “metamodern”, there can be very little progress made – analytical or political – towards metamodern understanding and goals in society. Attempts at periodization will remain arbitrary, bordering on nonsensical, unless one specifies which aspect of the metamodern one studies.

Clearing the analytical fog

Let us consider a few examples of analytical difficulties of this complex, multidimensional landscape:

  • There can be metamodern elements in singular works of arts and culture long before today’s wave of metamodern arts (Salvador Dalí, for instance, is generally termed to be a “modernist” in art history text books, but a quick analysis of his paintings reveals a strong postmodern current with significant metamodern elements);
  • there can be minorities of people with metamodern personalities and values in a society that is dominated by modern values and institutions but in which there are also large minorities with pre-modern and postmodern values and corresponding stages of personal development;
  • there can be philosophers who work from an underlying metamodern paradigm but fail to see and name that same paradigm (or choose not to, for various reasons);
  • there can be metamodernist movements manned and driven by people who do not embody corresponding stages of personal development;
  • there can be agents who tap into the social logics pertaining to the metamodern meta-meme, but who do not themselves think and act in accordance with metamodern cultural sensibilities;
  • there can be leaders who enact the cultural logic of the metamodern phase in their communication and agency, but who are themselves by no means metamodernists and do not lead metamodern movements (Seth Abramson has made this case for Donald Trump);
  • there can be artists who partake in exploring metamodernism as a movement and cultural phase, but whose work is largely devoid of metamodern elements;
  • there can be entire societies affected by the social logic of the metamodern meta-meme, but the institutions of which are still modern or even pre-modern…

… and so forth. Hopefully, then, the analytical fog can clear.

Different methods and analytical tools are required to study, understand and enact each of these six dimensions. Metamodern sociology must be one that non-arbitrarily traverses this landscape of six dimensions, selecting and coordinating appropriate theories and methods to understand the different dimensions and their interrelations. For instance, an understanding of the metamodern stage of personal development cannot be understood through further developments of cultural theory; it requires a solid foundation in developmental psychology and adult development. Likewise, developmental psychology alone cannot guide the understanding of how metamodern institutions can be created in society for it to self-organize at a transnational, global level, tackling wicked issues such as climate change and technological disruption. All six paths must be mastered, not by one single person (that is all but impossible), but by the community of students of metamodernism. These students must, in turn, be capable of communicating across these six dimensions and be able to grant recognition and fair, critical appraisal of one another’s work from different angles.

As for periodization, this can only become meaningful retrospectively, once the dimensions of study are specified. If one argues, for instance, that we live today in a cultural phase of metamodernism, and finds examples thereof in arts and popular culture – which are distinct from postmodern sensibilities of critique, irony and deconstruction – then one misses the obvious fact that we do not today live in a society organized around metamodern institutions, i.e. institutions created against the backdrop of a metamodern philosophical paradigm and governed by populations at metamodern stages of personal development. In other words: This one-dimensional analysis misconstrues a late modern society, with postmodern elements, as being “metamodern” and thus cuts the impetus for a truly metamodern movement short.

Likewise, naturally, modernity can be periodized either as a 20th century phenomenon, as stretching back to the beginnings of industrialism, as rooted in the Enlightenment, as emerging during the Scientific Revolution of the 1600s, as appearing in the arts and culture of the Renaissance when perspective entered into painting and the modern Western musical scale was completed in the 1400s, to precocious late medieval thinkers of science and progress like Roger Bacon – or even to forms of proto-modernity in antiquity and the state formation of Qin China. Modernity is a qualitative, not a chronological, category.

The same can be said about postmodernism, the earliest signs of which harken back to the Enlightenment (with Rousseau), clear forms begin to emerge during the 19th century, dominant forms take hold in what is conventionally called “modern” art in the first half of the 20th century, and clearly formulated philosophies of postmodernism (often tied to poststructuralism) which stretch back to at least the 1960s – and then becoming a dominant social logic or phase in the 1990s’ popular culture.

I would like to stop for one more caveat. A distinction should be made between students of metamodernism who stop at the descriptive stage of inquiry, and those (like myself) who combine a descriptive and prescriptive approach. I believe that, if one sees and understands metamodernism in this richer and more multi-dimensional sense, one cannot remain entirely neutral to the developmental path of society; one is morally compelled to act to bring about a metamodern society, reorganizing the limits to the systemic dynamics and life-worlds of modernity. Just as medieval society appears crude, irrational and immoral to the modern mind, so does modern society appear needlessly grim and “un-enlightened” to the metamodern observer. Hence, I should like to underscore that the metamodern sociology of which I propose an outline in this article can and will have a prescriptive and normative element: with sincere irony, with informed naivety, with pragmatic romanticism, it is a moral imperative for metamodern sociology to study society in ways that can offer self-critically held proto-syntheses; visions and plans for a qualitatively different and ethically desirable future society.

It should further be underscored that this moral impetus does not come from a posited “direction of history”, from the idea that metamodernism is a later or future period or epoch; if “progress” is tied to time and arbitrarily delineated epochs rather than to analytical distinctions and categories, one is promptly returned to the teleological fallacy, i.e. in believing that time itself progresses history along a certain pregiven axis of linear development. The moral impetus emerges, instead, from the ethics and sensibilities of the metamodern mind and from an understanding of the advantages, in terms of human and non-human animal thriving and reduced quantities of suffering, conferred by the emergence of metamodern society and its societal properties. Metamodern psychology emerges from modern psychology, transcending and including it; the same is true of a metamodern philosophy and ethics; and the same is true of a metamodern society. Metamodern society is not a utopian vision[vi]; it is simply another social logic that flows developmentally from modernity, taken to its own endpoint, which is postmodernism, taken to its own endpoint, which is metamodernism.

Sociology in an evolutionary context

Let us now revisit sociology as an academic discipline evolving in rhythm with society, so that it may be considered from a distinctly metamodern perspective. In this view, there is modern sociology (but not quite a pre-modern one; it begins there), a postmodern sociology, and then the potential for a revamped form of the discipline – a metamodern sociology.

Since its programmatic formulation in the 19th century, despite eager and repeated efforts from the onset, sociology has never fully managed to establish itself as a “science” in the sense that its basic theories and tenets can be agreed upon by all practitioners and be taught in textbooks. The textbooks of sociology to this day still all present an array of different and partly competing, partly overlapping, perspectives, methodologies and models. Whereas the natural sciences also depend upon the society of the people who ask the questions and perform the research, they allow for a certain distance to the shared and experienced life-worlds of everyday life. Inquires of social science, in contrast, have a considerably closer tie to the issues and questions pertaining to a certain society in a certain time – to everyday life. Mechanisms for alleviating poverty are only studied in a society in which people feel that this is a realistic and meaningful endeavor; ethnographic studies of honor killings can only crop up in a society in which a significant group views such practices as alien, harmful and immoral; questions of the nature of the relation between states, markets and civil society can only emerge in a context where these categories are viewed as defined objects in the first place – and so forth.

Hence, sociology has largely reflected and partaken in the dominant strands of thought and understanding of society at large – from a distinctly modern sociology, geminating in the 18th century with Montesquieu and Tocqueville, originating in the middle 19th century with Comte, peaking with its programmatic formulation in the “classics” (Marx, Spencer, Weber, Durkheim, Tönnies, Dubois, Martineau – with premonitions of later developments in rogue thinkers like Gabriel Tarde and Georg Simmel), maturing, aging and decaying in the mid-20th century with Talcott Parson’s structural functionalism, and surviving to this day in the form of conventional, quantitative studies of social phenomena – to a distinctly postmodern turn, beginning in the 1960s with social constructionism, “French theory” and poststructuralism, taking over the bastions of conventional academia within social science and humanities in the 1980s and 1990s with various strands of critical theory, discourse analysis, the linguistic turn, radical constructivism (rather than “constructionism”), feminist scholarship, queer theory, postcolonialism and intersectionality.

Between these two bodies of intellectual and social pursuit – modern and postmodern sociology – one can place certain figures and strands that served as portals between the two realms of thought and research; ideas that were proto-postmodern and in that sense “before their time”: Mannheim’s sociology of knowledge, Levi-Strauss’ structuralist anthropology (harkening back to Saussure’s linguistic structuralism of the 1920s, and later radicalized into full-fledged postmodern poststructuralism in the hands of Foucault and other French theorists), the symbolic interactionism that grew from Goffman’s situationist sociology of everyday life and its rituals, Garfinkel’s ethnomethodology (the study of how people in practice implicate a larger social order underlying each everyday interaction) – and, of course, the Frankfurt School and other strands of humanist socialism and psychoanalysis. All of these started bonfires in the project of modern sociology, particularly against the backdrop of the socialist and humanist campus radicalism of 1968 and the 1970s; fires that spread and eventually reached the heart of the discipline, reshaping it in its entirety.

Modern sociology is driven, in some way or form, by a will to understand society “as an object” by means of the scientific method, and thus ultimately to reshape it in accordance with a “rational” will of the observer. This holds true whether it is Marx’s view of stages of economic and societal development, Durkheim’s (pre-)statistical study of “social facts” (such as the suicide rates that reproduce themselves with frightening regularity in different segments of a given society from year to year), or Weber’s attempt to use a qualitative analysis of ideas, values and religion as driving forces and his study of the emergence of a distinctly “modern” state bureaucracy, market and civil society.

All of these observers try to somehow understand what modern society is by using, in some sense, “scientific” approaches. When Comte coined the term “sociology” in 1838 (although it has recently been shown that this was not a first), he imagined it as an entirely positivist science, one that would study society as a natural object like any other, and eventually serve to bring full rationality to all human relations, including the organization of the other (natural) sciences. He thus imagined a developmental model of society in which a scientific modern society was the final stage, and here sociology would take its place as the governing principle, establishing itself as “the queen of the sciences”.

Whereas the other classical modern theorists were not as direct and grandiose in their understanding of sociology (except, perhaps Marx who didn’t directly subscribe to the term “sociology”, but claimed to have discovered the science of how society develops), they were all somehow part of this underlying project. It is true that Weber departed from positivism in favor of a more interpretative sociology, but he still described modern society as rational and driven by a goal-rational order. Durkheim described rites and rituals in religions, and held that even modern people are in some sense religious, and tribal religions in some sense rational (even “irrational” beliefs can be shown to have “rational” underpinnings and functions from a societal perspective) – but Durkheim did subscribe to the “pregiven” ontological reality of social facts that can be studied “objectively” by means of empirical research. In other words, modern sociology was a child of modernity and its roots in the Enlightenment.

Postmodern sociology revolted against the modern project itself. The underlying supposition that a precise and correct understanding of society could bring about societal progress was put into serious question. The French philosopher Derrida’s sophisticated “deconstruction” became a north star of this cultural and academic sentiment: the issue is not to “objectively describe” the social world, but to look to its cracks, its exceptions, its loopholes, its paradoxes, its self-contradictions and underlying meanings. As long as the observer takes the presuppositions of society, which are layered in language itself, for granted, she can never truly study society from “from the outside”, since she will always be caught within the conceptual structures of that same society.

The postmodern mind notes that, yes, the truth may set you free, it may well emancipate individuals and groups in society, but the truth is never a straightforward matter of facts and method. The question is always, and always remains, “whose truth?”. The critical, postmodern, sociologist feels that there is not one path to the truth. The truth is always context dependent, and never free from issues of preconception, the cognitive schemata of the observer. These, in turn, are always dependent upon society itself and its organization, which is always infinitely larger than one’s own perspective thereof. Society and “the social” constitute a stronger and more pervasive force than modern sociology could have believed. Behind every truth claim there is a corresponding claim to power and authority, and truth-seeking and ideas of progress can never be entirely divorced from power relations in society, from specific interests and worldviews. Hence, all of science and all of the applications of social science are dependent upon the social position and perspective of the observer. There is never, in Thomas Nagel’s words, “a view from nowhere”. This echoes, of course, the philosophy of Nietzsche and his notion of “the death of God”, a clear premonition of postmodern philosophy. The proposition that “God is dead” should hence not be understood theologically, but epistemically; as soon as one takes a particular, situated, perspective to be universal and independent of the observer, one has implicitly introduced a “God” into the equation, i.e. a belief in an ultimately umpire of truth claims. But this umpire is, in reality, always out of reach.

I would argue, thus, that postmodernism represents a form of higher secularization vis-à-vis modernity. Modernity makes short notice of the traditional God above the clouds, the God of private revelations of singular prophets. The modern mind commits itself to public revelation by means of a scientific community, verifying or falsifying the factual and explanatory claims of each researcher. It is based upon objectivity-through-mutuality. Postmodernism points out that these verifications and falsifications will always be dependent upon the shared taken-for-granted worldviews, values and interests of the scientific community, which itself is always located within a society that defines the rules and limits of any inquiry. Most questions, of all possible ones, are simply never asked; most interpretations never considered. As such, postmodernism finishes what modernism started; it kills off not only the literal (theological) God but also the implicit (epistemological) God-behind-the-scenes.

Such limits to the scope of inquiry are never arbitrary; they are themselves structured in recognizable manners, usually revealing a power structure of some kind. A simple example from today’s world: Scientific inquiry has long shown a close connection between humanity and the animal realm; yet, serious inquiries into the ethical consequences of this indisputable fact remain a fringe issue in the sciences and in society at large. Animal rights is viewed as a non-respectable and quite secondary issue, despite its enormous consequences in terms of real, ongoing suffering. This is not due to some methodological fault on behalf of science and research, but rather to the weak position that non-human animals have within our society. Unable to organize and to voice their perspective, the questions of animals, a simple “why?” in the face of imprisonment, slavery and industrial violence, are simply almost never raised, and when raised, seldom taken seriously.

Truth, then, is a slave to power. How, then, can the truth break free? The postmodern mind employs critical theory and a deconstructive sociology, to somehow grasp the surrounding culture, the construction of meaning, morality and norms. This is an excavation of the underlying power structures that shape us so fundamentally that it precedes even our ability to ask a question, to make a certain kind of truth claim, even our direct perceptions. And this is revealed by systematically examining the self-contradictions and paradoxes of modern society, its language and meaning-making.

For this reason, the postmodern mind eschews all “grand narratives”, in the words of Lyotard. It is incredulous towards the overarching “liberal” world, and even to its Marxist-Leninist alternative. The direction of development is not pregiven, not ordained; time is not an arrow pointing towards progress. If you believe in one given “background space” within which you place society and your sociological inquiry, then you will always end up reproducing the claim to power inherent in that pregiven background space. There is, rather, a multiplicity of perspectives, each with their respective underlying power claims – and it is by breaking such perspectives against one another, in a “parallax view” (Zizek), that the inconsistencies of each single one is revealed. No one has the truth, not even the physicists. There is no “ground of reality” and no high priest who knows what it is.

Where does this, then, leave the postmodern mind? In a perpetual questioning, an infinity of intellectual and cultural resistance; in ever new variations of critique. Foucault is the emblematic example of this position. He and other intellectuals take on a role corresponding to the priesthood in traditional societies; they chastise us and question us with the fervor that stems from seeing a more ethical and fairer world, one that is always, in practice, impossible.

By no means is the postmodern questioning of the modern world complete. It has produced many cultural victories, from feminism, to anti-racism, to anti-postcolonialism, to revealing the hidden injuries of class – all of which have fueled movements and emancipations. But to this day, animal rights, to name one issue, has remained peripheral and animal slavery largely unquestioned.

And yet it is not a stretch to claim that the postmodern critique has reached an impasse as an academic project. The postmodern intellectuals have retreated into the ivory towers of academia, refining the code and critical methodologies, but decoupling themselves from leadership and creative reorganizations of society’s institutions that are direly needed. A widespread resistance to postmodernism has taken hold in politics, in internet rogue intellectuals, and in the sentiments of society at large. Different forms of neo-reactionary, conservative and identitarian or “alt-right” movements have stolen the momentum and the imagination of a generation of young. These have tired of the cynicism and self-critique of postmodernism and its corresponding sociology, longing for a less bewildering and more self-assertive stance towards life, society and existence. The postmodern stance of perpetual questioning simply does not allow for hope, sincerity and belief, as these are always taken to be new forms of oppression in disguise.

And this is where metamodern sociology enters the picture. It begins from a similar move, one of further secularization. If postmodern sociology always posits that there are power structures controlling our behaviors and knowledge claims, metamodern sociology eschews even this belief. Rather, metamodern sociology begins from the proposition that power structures are only truly surface phenomena, shadows of a deeper and impersonal reality: the reality of complex emergences that crisscross one another. There are hence, ultimately, no power structures to “question” or even simply “remove”. Instead, there are processes that guide the emergence of the perspectives in the world, and this in turn guides behaviors and results.

Because we cannot relate to society without taking a position based upon our perspective, the metamodern mind argues, we should own up to the perspective that we take, and the developmental direction implied by that view. We should then deliberately employ the sociological methods to shape society, its culture, institutions and economy, in this desired direction. This sense of direction is held, again, with sincere irony. We may know full well that our perspectives are limited and our visions partly imaginary, but we choose to take the risk, with informed naivety.

Postmodernism can only ever be a critique of the existing modern society, affecting some patterns here and there. Metamodernism, as a movement and sentiment, seeks to suggest new paths for society altogether: a new overarching equilibrium. This has long been taboo in the social sciences. But it is time that the taboo is broken, and that creative minds use the sociological imagination to suggest concrete futures and make visible new potentials.

In this sense, metamodern sociology marries the progressive impetus of modern sociology and its will to take modernity “as an object” that can be shaped and directed, to the multi-perspectival, deconstructive and “ironic” stance of postmodern sociology. This can, admittedly, be done in more or less fruitful manners. At worst, it is a shotgun wedding, where the worst of both worlds are combined – for instance, an undermining of scientific rigor in the name of relativism and unrealistic suggestions about a future utopia. At best, it is a nimble bifurcation between critique and progress, where new suggestions are carefully scrutinized and evolved. Or better yet, borrowing a term from quantum physics: metamodernism holds the modern idea of progress and the postmodern critique in superposition to one another – depending upon the participant perspective of the observer, each new inquiry can lead either to critique and resistance, or towards a path to deep progress.

If modern sociology is about “reality”, the societal facts of the matter, and postmodern sociology is about “perspective”, the differing views of the facts of the matter, then metamodern sociology is about “potentials”, i.e. the larger realm of all possibilities contained within the multiplicity of mutually interacting perspectives. Metamodern sociology thus seeks to reorganize the generative conditions of how all of these perspectives emerge, evolve and interact.

Modern sociology asks: What is society?

Postmodern sociology asks: How is society viewed, by whom, and why?

Metamodern sociology asks: How do these views of society emerge, and how can they be made to emerge in ways that are beneficial from a multiplicity of weighted and compared views?

The generative conditions of perspective in its necessary multiplicity. This is the ultimate object of study for a metamodern sociology. Metamodern sociology thus takes up the task of cataloging, understanding, comparing, and non-arbitrarily evaluating the many perspectives of society, self, and reality. The evaluation of perspectives is, of course, only something that can be done by having some over-arching meta-theory or larger conceptual space within which the perspectives can be placed in relation to one another. Hence, the metamodern divorce from the postmodern is completed: the postmodern mind would not have allowed for the formulation of an over-arching meta-theory, a narrative of narratives, a perspective of perspectives. And yet, this is what each metamodern sociologist must work on: a suggested map of meaning, one that can always evolve and be scrutinized by others – or “co-developed”.

This map-making is, naturally, an enormous task that can never be concluded. But it is only through such a work that one can hope to suggest pathways for society which, for all future, will consist of many competing and contradicting perspectives. Deconstructing and critiquing perspectives of others, or even of oneself, cannot be enough. One must, sooner or later, reveal from which meta-theory one is working, and from there on say how and why the great multiplicity of perspectives can be evolved. This is a synthesis of modern and postmodern sociology; but as the metamodern mind also builds upon and attempts to transcend and include the postmodern perspective, it must always remain a proto-synthesis – i.e. not a synthesis held to describe the actual development of what Hegel called the world-soul, but a “good enough for now, safe enough to try” attempt to act in good faith.

Hence, beyond its intellectual underpinnings, metamodern sociology is also an act of faith – of ironic piety – or even, if you will, of enlightened madness.

Describing metamodern sociology

Let us then examine some properties of metamodern sociology in its current embryonic form. To reveal my own (hopefully) enlightened madness, I would like to stress that these tenets are my own postulates, and that they can and should be challenged and developed.

Developmentalism of perspectives. It is a tenet of metamodern sociology that perspectives are not arbitrarily ordered, but that they emerge in recognizable patterns. A poststructuralist critique of literature has never emerged in a tribal society with no writing; quantum theory has never emerged in a traditional, pre-modern, society. Even if strands of thought can be linked backwards in history (process philosophy back to Heraclitus and so forth), there are indeed specific ideas that build upon one another: multiplication builds upon addition. And these sequences are, in turn, always dependent upon social and material – ultimately, even biological – conditions, with which they interact. Postmodernism did not emerge before modernism, nor could it have. For this reason, metamodern sociology always looks for meaningful and explanatory developmental sequences, putting them into relation to one another on some kind of developmental scale. This developmentalism thus accepts at least some minimal form of stage theories; and these stage theories are not mere phases (childhood, maturity, old age) but indeed stages (addition, multiplication, power functions). Each stage must be, in clearly definable terms, either more complex than the former, or, at a minimum, be derived from the former and qualitatively distinct. For instance, one may study how people, such as police officers, think about an issue like “race and ethnicity”; some will reflect upon these matters in simpler terms, “black people commit more crimes”, others in more nuanced and complex terms “some groups in society are underprivileged and are thus driven into crime more easily”, and some in yet more complex terms “through my work and perspective, I have a role in recreating the crime statistics that keep up the over-policing of some ethnic groups, which breeds exclusion and resentment in these groups”. In the minds of different observers with distinct perspectives, the same phenomenon appears differently, with different conclusions. These three suggested perspectives are not merely outcomes of different personalities, but they build upon one another: there is a developmental sequence – and if more police officers are supported to independently being able to think in accordance with the more complex perspective, this is likely to be more aligned with their dealings with the complexities of society and criminal justice. To eschew all developmental sequences of such perspectives is to flatten the view, as it were, projecting a three-dimensional object on a two-dimensional surface. This is what the metamodern sociologist calls “developmental blindness”. Unfortunately, postmodern sociology is more or less developmentally blind, which explains a large part of its impotence to create workable pathways for culture and society to take.

Meta-theory and map-making. It is another unfortunate limitation to contemporary sociology that students are not taught comprehensive maps of the theoretical landscape of sociological theories, so that choice of theory and perspective can be selected non-arbitrarily, with well-argued motivations. There is a severe lack of meta-theory. Rather, the choice of theory, and indeed, the entirety of academic careers, are based upon which theories happen to “speak to” the individual scholar, often being defined by earlier work on the particular topic of study. Sociologists become “interactionists”, “constructivist feminists”, “Marxists”, “middle-range theory institutionalists” and so forth, depending upon whim and chance, often unable to communicate meaningfully across these sub-disciplinary boundaries. This is an enormous waste of potential, as the meta-theoretical space is sub-optimized. To be fair, prominent sociologists like Jeffrey Alexander and Georg Ritzer have indeed presented meta-theoretical maps of the territory, but these have not taken a central place in the education of sociologists, and a researcher is generally not expected to give convincing reasons for his or her position within a larger meta-theoretical map. Neither do a few courses on the “philosophy of social science” grant students a comprehensive map, as these also simply enumerate a host of competing positions. Metamodern sociology is different: It begins and ends in meta-theory, always naming the underlying meta-theory, one’s own theoretical position within it, and always returning to the meta-theoretical map once the theoretical and empirical dive is concluded, feeding something back to this fundamental “ground-level” of social science. A good place to start is Ken Wilber’s comprehensive work on “integral theory”, which includes several important meta-theoretical maps – but it is a telling sign that one must look to relatively esoteric writers beyond the discipline, like Wilber, to find good material for such mappings. In short, the emergence of the many perspectives in sociology and its large body of theories is not arbitrary; it covers different aspects of injunctions into the nature of society. If there is any one thing that particularly prevents sociology as an academic discipline from becoming a proper “science”, it is this lack of meta-theoretical maps – all the perspectives and injunctions end up beings “smashed together” in a grand, confusing hotchpotch. By going to the source, to the map-making of the sociological territory, one can begin to restore order to this cosmos, and thus specify which truth claims are relevant as basic tenets of each form of injunction, ridding the landscape of redundant and contradictory theories. Metamodern sociology must thus work from a more highly abstracted and complex level, zooming in on different phenomena from different theoretical perspectives, all the time explicating why and how each zoom is made. Naturally, one’s meta-theoretical map – if you will, one’s underlying paradigm made explicit – will also shape one’s view of what society is and how it functions.

Fractal methodology. In a corresponding manner, choice of research methods and methodological considerations must be based upon which injunction into reality is being made, i.e. it must be non-arbitrarily selected against the backdrop of a meta-theoretical map, and how the studied phenomenon is located on the meta-theoretical map. The crux here is to avoid that research is steered primarily by the “sunk costs” of the time and effort it takes to master each research method, qualitative or quantitative, a division that today divides the discipline. It is not realistic that all researchers should be able to master all methods of research, but the methodological development of each scholar should be strategized in relation to their position on the meta-theoretical map and the sociological community as a whole should optimize its distribution of research skills, while investing time and effort in learning a shared language that facilitates bridges between different methodologies and research programs.

Holistic. Bearing in mind that “holistic” already has a meaning within sociology, and that the term is used as a catchphrase in many context, often meaning an acceptance and inclusion of “spiritual” aspects of life, it should still be underscored that metamodern sociology is a holistic endeavor, albeit of another kind. Holism, in this context, should be contrasted with “reductionism”, and it flows from the above point about meta-theory. Much sociological ink has been spilled considering the relation between material (economic, technological conditions) and the culture of society. Reductionism, in its different guises, holds that either a) the economic system, or b) the overarching culture and its inherent meaning-making and implicit power relations, or c) the interactions and rituals of everyday life, or d) the social-psychological process of how humans are socialized and their personalities are formed, constitutes the “most fundamental” aspect of society, to which its other dimensions can ultimately be reduced (hence, “reductionism”, note that this includes cultural reductionism). The metamodern sociologist uses a meta-theoretical map to study how, at a minimum, these four dimensions emerge together; how they interact and define each other. Hence, one cannot arbitrarily seek to explain societal phenomena from any one of these fundamental fields of emergence. Depending on how elaborate one’s meta-theoretical map is (others are possible, not just these four fields), one is obliged to always explain the phenomenon as holistically as possible, not leaving out any dimension, or at least explaining why and how one limits one’s inquiry. In an expanded sense, this holistic perspective should reach into the body, both as a biological-medical entity, and as a lived and felt embodiment of social experience – as well as into the biosphere and ecology.

Transpersonal perspective. This one flows, in turn, from the above tenet. The transpersonal perspective holds that society consists neither of atomized or interacting individuals, nor of societal systems and cultural structures and collectives, nor even of networks of people. Rather, lending from disciplines such as depth psychology and deconstructive critiques of the “individual self” in cognitive science, the metamodern sociologist views humans as multi-layered, open, interacting processes that emerge together – one’s agency cannot clearly be delineated from another, nor from the society within which it unfolds. For instance, you can use a marketing strategy (an artefact found in a book, a societal condition) to affect my purchasing behaviors without my knowledge thereof; where, then, does my agency originate? Neither in the individual nor the collective, neither in you nor in me. This approaches, of course, what Gilles Deleuze called “the dividual”. The transpersonal perspective views behavior, and perspectives, as emergent through and beyond the individual. In this sense, human happiness and suffering are also emergent at the transpersonal level, at the level of depth psychology shaped by society, but also, on higher layers of the conscious mind, actively acting upon that same society. This leads us, clearly, to questions about how our “self” emerges in society and how it evolves over the life-span, inexorably linking metamodern sociology to developmental psychology and the stages of adult development – hence to issues of healing, trauma, and the human body. For instance: How much does unhealed trauma steer the political behavior of members of society?

Complexity and emergence. Norbert Wiener famously wrote an article about complexity; the evolution from mechanics (linear, predictable causation) to chemistry (aggregates of many processes, each of which is unpredictable, but that statistically add up to a predicable whole) to complexity (highly unlikely events, that emerge against all apparent odds through complex interactions, such as the emergence of biological life). Sociology has, naturally, followed a similar path: from Comte’s focus on “forces”, lending from the mechanics of his time, to a statistical science with quantitative method, apparent already in Durkheim but flourishing after the breakthroughs in mathematical statistics in the 1920s, to a search for ways to describe complex emergences in many contemporary sociologists. Metamodern sociology may well employ mechanical and statistical thinking and methods, but its home base must remain firmly based within complexity. A distinction can here be made between “lateral complexity”, which looks at how patterns emerge through the interactions of many smaller units (championed by e.g. the Santa Fe Institute and the MIT Center for Collective Intelligence and cybernetics of different brands), and “hierarchical complexity”, which studies how more complex phenomena, including behavioral and cognitive patterns, emerge from less complex ones (championed by Michael Lamport Commons). This holds an important key in the divorce from the postmodern focus on “power structures”; the metamodern sociologist generally views pathologies in society as not one monolithic structure, but as an emergent pattern of many smaller, often counter-intuitively trivial, occurrences. Further, limitations to extensions of solidarity and oppressive factors in people’s lives, are viewed as pertaining to limitations to hierarchical complexity, i.e. that complex phenomena are somehow treated with a flattened, too simple, perspective. This is a less moralistic and more dispassionately descriptive intuition to build from.

Self-development and participation. Last but not least, the metamodern sociologist must understand that her own inquiry into any matter is an act of participation, which always affects the questions asked, the interpretations made, the findings presented. For this reason, the metamodern inquirer must always return to looking inwards, and to support her own healing and development in terms of theory/perspective, paradigm, stage of cognitive complexity, emotional foundation and motivations for inquiry, and relation to the field of study and society at large. Freud famously suggested that Napoleon conquered Europe to get back at his big brother. Correspondingly, the sociologist can easily spend a lifetime studying male oppression to address the trauma of a poor father and some disappointing boyfriends. More often than we like to believe, each of us is driven by simpler and cruder logics, interests and emotions than we would like to admit – and this will naturally shape any inquiry we undertake in society. Hence, the question becomes how one’s sociological inquiry is embodied within oneself. Naturally, emotions and reactions against perceived faults injustices in society constitute a legitimate source of motivation for sociological inquiry, but it is the task of the critically minded sociologist to scrutinize even one’s own moral outrage – or, for that matter, one’s indifference and boredom – towards societal issues. From a holistic, meta-theoretical and transpersonal view, work must be done where it is due, and sociological analysis does not exempt any observer from issues pertaining to the deeply personal and psychological realm. This leads us, again, to issues of depth psychology, even to forms of self-development and self-exploration that include contemplations, meditation and in some cases responsible use of psychedelics. This is because our sensing and wounded selves always participate in our sociological endeavors.

Key questions about metamodernism and society

Let us turn again to the second meaning of a “metamodern sociology”, namely the sociology about metamodernism. There are, of course, countless imaginable topics of such a field, but some few currently stand out in terms of their obviousness and pertinence.

  • Developmental demographics – how are different populations in different societies distributed across the stages of adult development (and in which kinds of adult development?), and how does this affect said societies and their interactions? Which demographics begin to display metamodern values, and which roles do these play in society?
  • How do developmental differences of perspective play out in society, and how can arising conflicts be mitigated, narratives translated and mutuality or solidarity across different perspectives be improved? How can metamodern perspective be situated and employed to serve such mediating purposes?
  • How do the institutions and culture of society affect and generate different distributions of developmental demographics? How can inner development be supported throughout society – empirically speaking? What problems or obstacles complicate and/or prevent such measures?
  • Which different pathways, social settings and cultural practices lead people to partake in metamodern movements and sentiments – and how do these interact? My own suggestion here has been that certain segments of the creative class should be studied: Hipsters, Hackers and Hippies (Triple-H). The first segment constitutes those who work with inner dimensions and subjective states, the second segment with symbols, arts, culture and narratives, the third with technology and information. These three cross-pollinate to create metamodern culture. I have later suggested the addition of a fourth segment (hence, a Quadruple-H population): the Hermetics. This last group work with meaning-creation, inventing symbols and rituals that try to grasp cultural realities that are yet only intuited. They are called Hermetics after the occult Renaissance movement, corresponding to the seeking for larger meaning patterns (believed at the time to be found in an original source identified as Hermes Trismegistus). Each of these groups have their own brands of excesses and pathologies (suggestions – Hippies: new age cults; Hipsters: cultural snobbery and ivory towers; Hackers: techno-utopian tunnel-vision of the Silicon Valley style; Hermetics: slides into anti-scientific occultism and complex flirtations with the far right) – and they have different lines of convergence and conflict. Metamodern movements must become proficient at including and mediating between these strands, while being able to discern pathological and excessive elements. This, I believe is a rich field of study!
  • The economy of cultural and informational capital – including the battle for human time and attention. This playing field of the internet economy, and its networked logic, is where metamodernism emerges, thrives and goes awry.
  • The mapping out of different utopias (and eutopias, “the good place”), their interrelations and how they connect to the metamodern, and their cultural dynamics in society, and how they relate to attractor points in the development of society, i.e. to new balances and social logics that are likely to grow and manifest in society given its current dynamics.

There are, clearly, central issues about metamodernism of which we still today know very little – and where the work of prescient researchers can make all the difference. Only one such topic is enough to fill the career of a talented social scientist. Seeing that metamodernism is not per se a “good” phenomenon, but a descriptive of certain elements that can be argued to be fruitful or harmful from different perspectives, few things are more important than exploring “the metamodern” from the perspective of rigorous research.

I hope this article can inspire fellow scholars to engage in metamodern sociology and begin the important work of describing the metamodern.

To conclude, sociology and metamodernism both share a key concern: to take modern society “as an object” that can be described, interpreted, related to, and ultimately reshaped; both entities work to see through and go beyond the modern. Hence, the argument can be made, that metamodernism belongs at the heart of the future of the sociological discipline, i.e. a sociology true to its own promises must become metamodern in its perspective – and, conversely, that sociology belongs at the heart of metamodernism. When metamodernism attempts to assert itself as a new self-organizing principle of society, it must be able to “see” modernity as the substrate upon which it operates. This follows, as the reader may have noticed, the pattern of subject-object theory: that with which one was earlier identified and took for granted, one’s “subject”, becomes an “object of awareness” from the new and higher vantage point — higher, of course, according to one’s developmentally informed meta-theory.

Hanzi Freinacht is a political philosopher, historian, and sociologist, author of ‘The Listening Society’, ‘Nordic Ideology’ and ’12 Commandments’ and the upcoming books ‘The 6 Hidden Patterns of History’ and ‘Outcompeting Capitalism’. Much of his time is spent alone in the Swiss Alps. You can follow Hanzi on Facebook, Twitter, and Medium, and you can speed up the process of new metamodern content reaching the world by making a donation to Hanzi here.

[i] Freinacht, Hanzi, 2017: The Listening Society: A Metamodern Guide to Politics, Book One. Wroclaw: Metamoderna.

[ii] “Modernity is a Qualitative, Not a Chronological, Category”, is taken from Theodor

Adorno, Minima Moralia: Reflections from Damaged Life, trans. E.F.N. Jephcott, London

1978, p. 218.

[iii] Vermeulen, Timothy and van der Akker, “Periodising in Metamodernism: Historicity, Affect, and Depth after Postmodernism (Radical Cultural Studies),

[iv] Giddens, A., 1990, in “Classical modernity and late modernity”, p. 38.

[v] Hargens, Sean-Esbjörn, 2010. An Ontology of Climate Change. Journal of Integral Theory and Practice, 5(1), pp. 143–174.

[vi] Freinacht, Hanzi, 2019: Nordic Ideology: A Metamodern Guide to Politics, Book Two. Wroclaw: Metamoderna.