Caleb Anderson: What's really at stake in this election?

One of the preeminent features of humanity is its capacity for contemplation. Interesting things happen when that contemplation reaches the boundaries of the known (or certain).

There is a very real sense in which postmodernism operates like a cult. It has a breathtaking propensity for making claims that are neither rational nor scientific—claims that openly affront reason and common sense.

Postmodernism, much like communism and socialism, represents a flight from reason into the realm of the semi-religious (or mystical). Because its foundational assumptions are inherently flawed, it is characteristically prone to endless redefinition, internal contradiction, division, and ultimate atomisation.

The historical damage left in the wake of such ideologies is invariably vast.

In its substitute quest for enlightenment, postmodernism has done immense damage wherever it has sunk its roots. Its impact on the West is palpable. We see it in the decline of educational standards, the stoking of endless social division, the denigration of the past, the undermining of productive capacities, the erosion of objective morality, and the systematic displacement of respectful, productive public discourse.

And, by negation, we see an assault on truth itself!

Perhaps most of all, postmodernism grants its adherents unlimited licence to point the finger outward. It is never me; it is always them. I don’t need to tidy my own backyard because the blame lies elsewhere. It is always someone else standing in the way. It becomes entirely about the past over the present, about others over self, and about flights of fancy over reasoned contemplation.

Every concession to this outward projection of blame entrenches an ideology of denial—an ideology that takes no prisoners and operates completely outside the traditional guardrails that keep a society safe and sane.

It was Carl Jung who noted that man’s greatest danger is man himself.

Postmodernism, and its endless modern iterations, have the potential to destroy everything decent and productive, displacing it with a tyranny of both thought and action.

Any clinical psychiatrist knows the transformative value of hard questions: Where are you stuck? Who is this impacting? What are you doing that makes things worse? What could you do to make things better? Where do you hide? Who are you truly? Where can you take responsibility?

This capacity for deep self-examination is the true Western legacy. Yet, in our retreat to tribalism, and collectivism in its myriad iterations, these are the exact questions we have stopped asking ourselves.

The absence of these questions—and our refusal to answer them—is precisely why the West sits in such a precarious position today. No ideology retreats of its own accord; most fight bitterly to the end, regardless of the cost.

The cultural damage is already severe, and the antidote remains highly unpalatable to the wider body politic—especially, but not exclusively, to the political left.

This is the real, unspoken problem this election. This is what our politicians are so keen to avoid. This is their secret denial ... and the rest, their ego defence.

Who can we actually trust to say "enough," and then have the fortitude to stand their ground?

Caleb Anderson, a graduate history, economics, psychotherapy and theology, has been an educator for over thirty years, twenty as a school principal.