Alexander Nehamas’ recent post about Plato and popular culture highlights — at some level — what I’ve been attempting to do here, here, and here.
In short, I want to argue that taking seriously the Platonic critique of the dominant poets of his day can lead us to consider the virtues and vices celebrated by our books, television shows, movies, music, and even video games.
But I think Nehamas pulls his punches, at least a little bit, when he concludes in the following manner:
And so, as often in philosophy, we end with a dilemma: If Plato was wrong about epic and tragedy, might we be wrong about television and video games? If, on the other hand, we are right, might Plato have been right about Homer and Euripides?
Why the open-ended conclusion; why does Nehamas not actually tell us if he thinks Plato is right or we are?
What I think is this:
If we wonder aloud with Plato about what it means for a society to find someone like Achilles worthy of emulation, we should probably also focus the same critical lens on our society and the role models we find in our own popular media. Plato argued that the poets ought to be censored because — for example — the portrayal of Achilles by Homer was unflattering enough to yield a bad result if young Athenians were to emulate his behavior. This doesn’t mean that Achilles is necessarily a bad role model, simply that the poets have done a poor job with their presentation. Instead, Plato seems to suggest, we might look to his own poetic presentation of Socrates as a role model. In his mentor we have a character worthy of emulation and properly presented as such.
On this reading, Plato doesn’t want to censor poetry until its effect on society is entirely nullified; instead, he wants to set himself as the poet par excellence rather than those, like Homer, who were occupying that post at the time. Like Plato, then, I want to suggest that it’s both interesting and important to pay critical attention to the popular media of our time.
But we need to comment on the fact that MTV’s “Jersey Shore” (or scripted shows like HBO’s “True Blood” or CBS’s “Two And A Half Men”) is pulling down serious ratings rather than simply noting it … because it isn’t necessarily the case that our watching means we endorse the stunning behavior of its cast. We might all be watching in horror and dismay; we might be trying to figure out where these people went so far wrong to have ended up as they have. If we’re not shocked and horrified, I argue that we ought to be.
Now, it’s less clear what we collectively think in the cases of television or film than it is with popular music. We might be watching because we’re learning what not to do, as I’ve suggested that sometimes we clearly ought to be. But when the best-selling recording artists are boy bands or pop princesses — who neither play their own instruments nor write their own songs — we can lament that something has gone terribly wrong; we can say that profits are the only thing motivating the recording industry and that putting out an interesting or creative product has been ignored. We can also argue — with Nietzsche — that most people don’t really know what it would mean to appreciate true artistry and musical talent, and that something’s popularity likely tells us we are better off leaving it to the masses.
Nehamas, then, gives us interesting questions to consider — but I want him to give us his answer. To my mind, Plato makes a compelling point about we can learn about ourselves from the popular media of the moment. But, like Plato does in his dialogues, we need to work to figure out exactly what our tastes are telling us about ourselves. At this point, we’re still just making assumptions: if I play a violent video game, I must like violence (and I will, therefore, be prone to act violently); if I watch “Jersey Shore,” I must endorse Snooki’s actions and beliefs; and if I buy Shakira’s 2009 “She-Wolf” album, I must have some sort of hearing problem.
Well, okay, that last one is spot on.
Update:
There was some question — in a comment below, written by Edna Sednitzer — about whether I ought to be singling out someone like Shakira — who writes her own songs and plays instruments — for such opprobrium, and that someone like Ke$ha might be a better choice. I could certainly have said these things about Ke$ha’s songs, to be sure, and it might very well be the case that Shakira writes songs and plays instruments … but not “She-Wolf.”
See here for information about the song’s distinctly non-Shakira origins.
Having passed along this information privately, I received the following very nice note from the original comment’s author:
I stand corrected on the She Wolf-gate! I find her music inane, don’t get me wrong, just that I heard so much of her story (try living in a country where she is about the marry the president’s son, you are bound to hear every minute detail of her life… those were my days living in Buenos Aires). By the way, I love your writing and your pop culture analysis. I’ve never watched one episode of Jersey Shore (not in Dutch TV for now, and never been tempted to download it), but I look forward to your commentary every week. I guess you can say I am perversely taking advantage of you, watching the rational representation of Jersey Shore instead of getting into the murky waters of the real thing. Plato, by way of Zizek, would probably approve.
I share the note not because it’s flattering — though it is and thank you very much — but because it’s important to note that I don’t think anyone is taking advantage of me in any way by reading my posts about MTV’s “Jersey Shore” rather than watching it (or in conjunction with watching it). Reading what I write about “Jersey Shore” is actually exactly what I’m hoping you’ll do … though I’m also hoping it will lead you to read other things I’ve written here on related or totally unrelated subjects.
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