Category: Aesthetics

Some ages get cool names, such as the Iron Age or the Gilded Age. Others have less awesome names. An excellent example of the latter is the designation of our time as the Awkward Age. Since philosophers are often willing to cash in on trends, it is not surprising that there arose a philosophy of awkwardness.

Various arguments have been advanced in support of the claim that this is the Awkward Age. Not surprisingly, one was built on the existence of so many TV shows and movies centered on awkwardness. There is a certain appeal to this sort of argument and the idea that art expresses the temper, spirit, and social conditions of its age is an old one. I recall, from an art history class I took as an undergraduate, this approach to art. For example, the massive works of the ancient Egyptians are supposed to reveal their views of the afterlife as the harmony of the Greek works was supposed to reveal the soul of ancient Greece.

Wilde, in his dialogue “The New Aesthetics” considers this. Wilde takes the view that “Art never expresses anything but itself.” Naturally enough, Wilde provides an account of why people think art is about the ages. His explanation is best put by Carly Simon: “You’re so vain, I’ll bet you think this song is about you.” Less lyrically, the idea is that vanity causes people to think that the art of their time is about them. Since the people of today were not around in the way back times of old, they cannot say that past art was about them—so they claim the art of the past was about the people of the past. This does have the virtue of consistency.

While Wilde does not offer a decisive argument, it does have a certain appeal. It also is worth considering that it is problematic to draw an inference about the character of an age from what TV shows or movies happen to be in vogue with a certain circle (there are, after all, many shows and movies that are not focused on awkwardness). While it is reasonable to draw some conclusions about that specific circle, leaping beyond to the general population and the entire age would be quite a jump. There are many non-awkward shows and movies that could be presented as contenders to defining the age. It seems sensible to conclude that it is vanity on the part of the members of such a circle to regard what they like as defining the age. It could also be seen as a hasty generalization—people infer that what they regard as defining must also apply to the general population.

A second, somewhat stronger, sort of argument for this being the Awkward Age is based on claims about extensive social changes. To use an oversimplified example, consider the case of gender in the United States. The old social norms were presented in terms of two roughly defined genders and sets of rules about interaction. Or so the older folks say to the kids of today. Such rules included that the man asked the woman out on the date and paid for everything. Or so the older folk say. Now, or so the argument goes, the norms are in disarray or have been dissolved. Sticking with gender, Facebook recognized over 50 genders complicates matters. Going with the dating rules once again, it is no longer clear who is supposed to do the asking and the paying. And, of course, this strikes some as a problem that will doom civilization.

In terms of how this connects to awkwardness, the idea is that when people do not have established social norms and rules to follow, ignorance and error can easily lead to awkward moments. For example, there could be an awkward moment on a date when the check arrives as the two people try to sort out who pays: Dick might be worried that he will offend Jane if he pays and Jane might be expecting Dick to pick up the tab—or she might think that each should pay their own tab. Or perhaps Jane is a vampire and plans to kill Dick, albeit awkwardly.

To use an analogy, consider playing a new and challenging video game. When a person first plays, she will be trying to figure out how the game works, and this will usually result in many failures. By analogy, when society changes, it is like being in a new game and one does not know the rules. Just as a person can look for guides to a new game online (like YouTube videos on how to beat tough fights in video games), people can try to find guides to behavior. However, new social conditions mean that such guides are not yet available or, if they are, they might be unclear or conflict with each other. For example, a person who is new to contemporary dating might try to muddle through on her own or try to do some research—most likely finding contradictory guides to correct dating behavior. And also running into bad advice and grifters galore.

Eventually, of course, the norms and rules will be worked out—as has happened in the past. Or, as we get older, we will pretend we worked out the norms and rules. Then we will complain about the youth. This indicates a point worth considering—today is obviously not the first time that society has undergone change, thus creating opportunities for awkwardness. As Wilde noted, our vanity contributes to the erroneous belief that we are special in this regard. That said, it could be contended that people today are reacting to social change in a way that is different and awkward. That is, this is truly the Age of Awkwardness. My own view is that this is one of many times of awkwardness—what has changed is the ability and willingness to broadcast awkward events. Plus we now have AI.

My core aesthetic principle is that if I can do something, then it is not art. While this is (mostly) intended as humorous, it is well founded—I have no artistic talent. Despite this, or perhaps because of this, I taught Aesthetics for over two decades.

While teaching this class, I became very interested in two questions. The first was whether a person without any artistic talent could master the technical aspects of an art. The second was whether a person without any artistic talent could develop whatever it is that is needed to create a work of genius. Or, at a much lower level, a work of true art.

 While the usually philosophical approach would be to speculate and debate, I engaged philosophical blasphemy and undertook an empirical investigation. I would see if I could teach myself to draw. I would then see if I could teach myself to create art. I began this experiment in the August of 2012 and employed the powers of obsession that have served me so well in running. It turns out they also work for drawing—I have persisted in drawing, even when I had to scratch out sketches on scraps of paper using a broken pencil. Yes, I am like that.

While this experiment has just one subject (me), I have shown that it is possible for a person with no artistic talent to develop the technical skills of drawing. I have trained myself to become what I call a graphite technician. My skill is such that people say, “I like your drawings because I can tell who they are of.” That is, I have enough skill to create recognizable imitations. I refuse to accept any claims that I am an artist, because of the principle mentioned above. Fortunately, I also have an argument to back up this claim.

When I started my experiment, I demonstrated my lack of drawing ability to my students and asked them why my bad drawing of a capybara was not art. They pointed out the obvious—it did not look much like a capybara because it was so badly drawn. When asked if it would be art if I could draw better, they generally agreed. I then asked about just photocopying the picture I used as the basis for my capybara drawing. They pointed out the obvious—that would not be art, just a copy. This experiment began before the arrival of AI image generators, otherwise I might not have even bothered with the experiment.

One reason a photocopy would not be art is that it is a mere mechanical reproduction. When I draw a person well enough for others to recognize the subject, I am exhibiting a technical skill—I can re-create their appearance on paper using a pencil.  However, technical skill alone does not make the results art. After all, this technical skill can be exceeded by a camera or photocopier. Just as being able to scan and print a photo of a person does not make a person an artist, being able to create a reasonable facsimile of a person using a pencil and paper does not make a person an artist—just a graphite technician.

Why this is so can be shown by considering why a mechanical copy is not art: there is nothing in the copy that is not in the original (laying aside duplication defects). As such, the more exact the copy of the original, the less room there is for whatever it is that makes a work art. So, as I get better at creating drawings that look like what I am drawing, I get closer to being a human photocopier. I do not get closer to being an artist.

This sort of argument would seem to suggest that photography cannot be art—after all, the photographer is just a camera technician. One might note that an unaltered photograph merely captures an image of what is there. One counter to this is that a photographer (as opposed to a camera technician) adds something to the photograph (I do not mean digital or other manipulation). This seems to be their perspective—they select what they will capture. So, what makes the work art is not that it duplicates reality but that the photographer has added that something extra. This something extra is what makes the photograph art and distinguishes it from mere picture taking. Or so photographers tell me.

It could be countered that what I am doing is art. Going back to the time of the ancient Greeks, art was taken as a form of imitation and, in general, the better the imitation, the better the art. Of course, Plato was critical of art on this ground—he regarded it as a corrupting imitation of an imitation.

Jumping ahead to the modern era, thinkers like d’Alembert still regarded fine art as an imitation, typically an imitation of nature aimed at producing pleasure. However, his theory of art does leave an opening for a graphite technician like myself to claim the beret of the artist. d’Alembert defined “art” as “any system of knowledge reducible to positive and invariable rules independent of caprice or opinion.”  What I have done, like many before me, is learned the rules of drawing—geometry, shading, perspective and so on. As such, I can (by his definition) be said to be an artist.

Fortunately for my claim that I am not an artist, d’Alembert distinguishes between the fine arts and the mechanical arts. The mechanical arts involve rules that can be reduced to “purely mechanical operations.” In contrast, d’Alembert notes that while the “useful liberal arts have fixed rules any can transmit, but the laws of Fine Arts are almost exclusively from genius.”  What I am doing, as a graphite technician, is following rules. And, as d’Alembert claimed, “rules concerning arts are only the mechanical part…”

What I am missing, at least on d’Alembert’s theory, is genius. On my own view, I am missing the mysterious something extra. While I do not have a developed theory of “the extra”, I have a vague idea about what it is in the case of drawing. As I developed my technical skills, I got better at imitating what I saw and could cause people to recognize what I was imitating. However, an artist who draws goes beyond showing people what they can already see in the original. The artist can see in the original what others cannot and then enable them to see it in her drawing. All I can do is create drawings where people can see what they can already see. Hence, I am a graphite technician and not an artist. I do not claim this to be a proper theory of art—but it points vaguely in the direction of such a theory.

That said, the experiment continues. I intend to see if it is possible to learn how to add that something extra or if, as some claim, it is simply something a person has or does not have. As of this writing on March 19, 2026, I still lack that something extra. I am persisting in the face of AI image generators, although my own failure at creating art might provide some insight into why AI generated images are not art. AI has, however, changed one thing about my drawing. When I was good enough to create images people could recognize, I would do birthday drawings of people and post them on Facebook—the responses were generally favorable, and some people really appreciated the effort. The arrival of AI image generators changed this: people now assume images are AI generated and, of course, the drawings ceased to be valued. After all, someone can create a much better image in seconds using AI. I’ll write more about this in the future.

The drawing pictured is of my husky, Isis, whio died in 2016. This is the only drawing I have saved; I compost my drawings.

Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.

-Terence

 

Way back in the fall of 2015, a free yoga class at the University of Ottawa was suspended due to concern it might have been cultural appropriation. A Centre official, responding to the prompting complaint, noted that many cultures, including the culture from which yoga originated, “have experienced oppression, cultural genocide and diasporas due to colonialism and western supremacy … we need to be mindful of this and how we express ourselves while practicing yoga.”  To fix this, they attempted to “rebrand” the class as “mindful stretching.” Due to issues regarding a French translation, the rebranding failed and the class was suspended.

Back then, I initially assumed it was absurd satire lampooning what was then called political correctness. It was real, but still absurd. But, as absurdities sometimes do, it provided a context for discussing a serious subject—in this case cultural appropriation.

The concept of cultural appropriation is controversial, but the idea is simple. In general terms, cultural appropriation takes place when a dominant culture takes (“appropriates”) from a marginalized culture for morally problematic reasons. For example, white college students have been accused of cultural appropriation (and worse) when they have used parts of American black culture for theme parties. Some on the left (or “the woke” as they are called by their detractors) see cultural appropriation as morally wrong. Some on the right think the idea of cultural appropriation is ridiculous and that people should just get over and forget about past oppressions. For them, the important thing is to address the cruel oppression of white, straight men—such as the President, Elon Musk, various billionaires, most CEOs, and such.

While I am still no fan of what can justly be considered performative political correctness, there are moral problems arising from cultural appropriation. One common type of cultural appropriation is intended to lampoon aspects of that culture. While comedy, as Aristotle noted, is a species of the ugly, it should not enter the realm of what is hurtful. Doing so would cease to be comedic and would be insulting mockery. An excellent (or awful) example of this would be the use of blackface by people who are not black. Naturally, specific cases would need to be given due consideration—it can be aesthetically legitimate to use the shock of apparent cultural appropriation to make a point. The 2008 film Tropic Thunder does this well.

It can be objected that lampooning is exempt from moral concerns about insulting people. It could even be argued that there is nothing wrong with engaging in insults. The challenge is making a consistent case for this that would allow the same insults and mockery of one’s own culture.

Another type of cultural appropriation is misusing symbols. For example, an underwear model dancing around in a war bonnet is not intended as lampooning but is an insult to the culture that sees a war bonnet as an honor to be earned. It would be comparable to having underwear models prancing around displaying unearned honors such as the Purple Heart, a Silver Star, or the Medal of Honor. This misuse can be unintentional—people often use cultural marks of honor as “cool accessories” without any awareness of what they mean. While people should, perhaps, do some research before borrowing from other cultures, innocent ignorance is certainly forgivable.

It could be objected that such misuse is not morally problematic since there is no real harm being done when a culture is insulted by the misuse of its symbols. This, of course, would need to be held to consistently—a person making this argument to allow the misuse of the symbols of another culture would need to accept a comparable misuse of their own sacred symbols as morally tolerable. I am not addressing the legality of this matter—although cultures do often have laws protecting their own symbols, such as military medals or religious icons.

While it would be easy to run through a multitude of cases that would be considered cultural appropriation, I prefer to focus on presenting a general principle about what would be morally problematic cultural appropriation. Given the above examples and consideration of the others that can be readily found, what seems to make appropriation inappropriate is the misuse or abuse of the cultural elements. That is, there needs to be meaningful harm inflicted by the appropriation. This misuse or abuse could be intentional (which would make it morally worse) or unintentional (which might make it an innocent error).

It could be contended that any appropriation of culture is harmful by using an analogy to trademark, patent, and copyright law. A culture could be regarded as holding the moral “trademark”, “patent” or “copyright” (as appropriate) on its cultural items and thus people who are not part of that culture would be inflicting harm by appropriating these items. This would be analogous to another company appropriating, for example, Disney’s trademarks, violating the copyrights held by Random House or the patents held by Google. Culture could be thus regarded as a property owned by members of that culture and passed down as a matter of inheritance. This would seem to make any appropriation of culture by outsiders morally problematic—although a culture could give permission for such use by intentionally sharing the culture. Those who are fond of property rights should find this argument appealing.

One way to counter the ownership argument is to note that humans are born into culture by chance and any human could be raised in any culture. As such, it could be claimed that humans have an ownership stake in all human cultures and thus are entitled to adopt culture as they see fit. The culture should, of course, be shown proper respect. This would be a form of cultural communism—which those who like strict property rights might find unappealing.

A response to this is to note that humans are also born by chance to families and any human could be designated the heir of a family, yet there are strict rules governing the inheritance of property. As such, cultural inheritance could work the same way—only the true heirs can give permission to others to use the culture. This should appeal to those who favor strict protections for inherited property.

My own inclination is that humans are the inheritors of all human culture and thus we all have a right to the cultural wealth our species has produced.  Naturally, individual ownership of specific works should be properly respected. However, as with any such great gift, it must be treated with respect and used appropriately—rather than misused through appropriation. So, cancelling the yoga class was absurd. But condemning misuse through appropriation is correct.

Chaosium’s Call of Cthulhu roleplaying game was my gateway drug to H.P. Lovecraft’s fiction. His works shaped my concept of horror and put me on the Mi-Go haunted path of writing adventures and monographs for Chaosium. I am proud that one of my creations is now included among the Great Old Ones. I even co-authored a paper on Lovecraft with physicist Paul Halpern. While Lovecraft is well known for the horrors of his Cthulhu Mythos, he is also now well known for another sort of horror, racism.

When I was a kid, I was blind to the prejudices expressed in Lovecraft’s writings—I focused on the strange vistas, sanity blasting beings, and the warping of space and time. As I grew older, I became aware of the casual prejudices expressed towards minorities and his special horror of “mongrel races.” However, I was unsure whether he was truly a racist or merely expressing a common world view of his (and our) time. Which can also be seen as racist. As I like Lovecraft’s writings, I was disturbed as revelations about his racism piled up.

For forty years the World Fantasy Convention had awards in the form of a bust of Lovecraft. Nnedi Okorafor won a WFA in 2011 and was disturbed when they learned Lovecraft had written a racist poem. While not as surprising as the revelation that Dr. Seuss  drew racist cartoons,  such evidence of blatant racism altered my view of Lovecraft as a person.

As should be expected, some have tried to defend Lovecraft. A notable defender was S.T. Joshi, a leading authority on the author. The defense of Lovecraft follows a well-worn approach to address the issue of whether and artists’ personal qualities or actions are relevant to the merit of their art. I turn now to considering some of these stock arguments.

One stock response is the “product of the times” defense: although Lovecraft was racist, it is claimed that most people were racist, so this is not a special flaw of the artist. This defense has some merit as it is reasonable to consider the social and moral setting in which an artist lived. After all, artists have no special immunity to social influences. To use an analogy, consider feminist arguments about the harmful influence of the patriarchal culture, sexist imagery, sexist language and unrealistic body images on young women. The argument is that young woman are shaped by these forces and develop low self-esteem, become more likely to have eating disorders, and develop unrealistic images of how they should look and behave. If these cultural influences can have such a devastating impact on young women, it is easy enough to imagine the damaging impact of a culture awash in racism upon the young Lovecraft. Just as a young woman inundated by photoshopped and AI images of supermodels can develop a distorted view of reality, a young person exposed to racism can develop a distorted view of reality. And, just as one would not hold the young woman responsible for her distorted self-image, one should not hold the young racist accountable for his distorted images of other people.

It can be countered that the analogy fails. While young women can be mentally shaped by the patriarchal influences of the culture and are not morally accountable for this, people are responsible for accepting racism even in a culture flooded with racism, such as the United States in the 1900s (and today). As such, Lovecraft can be blamed for his racist views, and his condemnation is thus justified. The challenge is to work out how some cultural factors can shape people in ways that excuse them of responsibility and others leave people morally accountable. This does point towards a general problem of moral accountability and the issue of the extent to which we are responsible for our beliefs. One can certainly argued that Lovecraft should have been aware of the arguments against racism (which date back to the invention of racism) and should have been able to overcome the racism of his time. After all, other people did so.

Another reply is that this argument is a version of the appeal to common practice fallacy—a fallacy that occurs when a practice is defended on the grounds that it is (or was) commonly done. Obviously, the mere fact that a practice is common does not justify it. So, although racism was common in Lovecraft’s day, this does not serve as a defense of his views or an excuse for his racism.

A second standard defense of artists is to argue they have other traits that offset the negative qualities. In the case of Lovecraft, the defense is that he was intelligent, generous and produced works of considerable influence and merit. This defense has some appeal—after all, everyone has negative traits and a person should be assessed by the totality of her being, not her worst quality taken in isolation.

While this is a reasonable reply, it only works to the degree that a person’s good qualities offset the negative qualities. After all, there are awful people who are kind to their own pets or treat the few people they love well. As such, consideration of this defense would require weighing the evil of Lovecraft with the good. One factor worth considering is that although Lovecraft wrote racist things and thought racist thoughts, there is the question of whether his racism led him to harm anyone. While it might be claimed that racism is harm enough, it does seem to matter whether he acted on this racism to the detriment of others. This, of course, ties into the broader philosophical issue of the moral importance of thoughts versus the moral importance of actions.

Another concern with this defense is that even if a person’s positive traits outweigh their negative, this does not erase the negative traits. So even if Lovecraft was a smart and generous racist, he was still a racist. And this would be grounds for condemnation. 

A third, and especially intriguing defense against a specific moral flaw is to argue that the flaw is subsumed in a greater flaw. In the case of Lovecraft, it could be argued that his specific racism is subsumed into his general misanthropic view of humanity. While there is some debate about the extent of his (alleged) misanthropy, this has some appeal. After all, if Lovecraft disliked humans in general, his racism against specific ethnic groups would be part of that overall view and not racism in the usual sense. Many of Lovecraft’s stories (such as in “the Picture in the House”, “The Shadow Over Innsmouth”, ‘the Rats in the Walls”, and “the Dunwich Horror”) feature the degeneracy and villainy of those of European stock. The descriptions of the degenerated whites are every bit as condemning and harsh as his descriptions of people of other ethnicities. As such, one could argue that Lovecraft cannot be accused of being a racist—unless his racism is towards all humans.

One counter to this defense is to point out that being awful in general is not a defense of being awful in a particular way. Another counter is that while Lovecraft did include degenerate white people, he also wrote in very positive ways about some white characters—something he did not seem to do for other ethnicities. This, it could be argued, does support the claim that Lovecraft was racist.

A final standard defense is to argue that the merits of an artist’s works are independent of the personal qualities of the artist. What matters, it can be argued, is the quality of the work itself in terms of such factors as aesthetic value and contributions to the field. One way to argue for this is to use an analogy from my own past.

Years ago, when I was a young cross-country runner, there was a very good runner at another college. This fellow regularly placed in and even won races. He was one of the best runners in the conference. However, he was almost universally despised by other runners and some joked that the only reason no one punched him in the face was because they could not catch him. Despite his being hated, his fellow runners had to acknowledge he was a good runner and merited all his victories. The same would seem to apply in the case of an artist like Lovecraft: his works should be assessed on their own merits and not on his personal traits.

This sort of reasoning can be enhanced by noting that an artist’s non-artistic qualities do not seem to make their art better. A person might be exceptionally kind and generous, but this does not mean that her guitar playing skill will be exceptional. A person might be kind to animals and devoted to the well-being of others, but this does not mean that his verses will flow like magical wine. So, if the positive traits of an artist do not improve an aesthetic work, it should follow that negative traits do not make the work worse.

This then leads to the reasonable concern that an artist’s negative qualities might corrupt a work. To go back to the running analogy, if the despised runner was despised because he cheated at the races, then the personality traits that made him the object of dislike would be relevant to assessing the merit of his performances. Likewise, if the racism of a racist author infects his works, then this could be regarded as reducing their merit because they are infected with racism. This leads to the issue of whether such racism detracts from the aesthetic merit of a work, which is a lengthy issue for another time.

I think that Lovecraft’s racism made him a worse person. However, the fact that he was a racist does not impact the merit of his works—except to the degree that the racist elements in the stories damage their artistic merit (which is an issue worth considering). As such, Lovecraft should be condemned for his racism but given due praise for the value of his work and his contribution to modern horror.

Although I like science fiction, it took me a long time to get around to seeing Interstellar—although time is a subjective sort of thing. One reason I decided to see it is because some claimed the movie should be shown in science classes. Because of this, I expected to see a science fiction movie. Since I write science fiction, horror and fantasy stuff, it should not be surprising that I get a bit obsessive about genre classifications. Since I am a professor, it should also not be surprising that I have an interest in teaching methods. As such, I will be considering Interstellar in regard to both genre classifications and its education value in the context of science. There will be spoilers—so if you have not seen it, you might wish to hold off reading this essay.

While there have been many attempts to distinguish between science and fantasy, Roger Zelazny presents one of the most brilliant and concise accounts in a dialogue between Yama and Tak in Lord of Light. Tak asks Yama about whether a creature, a Rakshasa, he has seen is a demon or not. Yama responds by saying, “If by ‘demon’ you mean a malefic, supernatural creature, possessed of great powers, life span and the ability to temporarily assume any shape — then the answer is no.  This is the generally accepted definition, but it is untrue in one respect. … It is not a supernatural creature.”

Tak, not surprisingly, does not see the importance of this single untruth in the definition. Yama replies with “Ah, but it makes a great deal of difference, you see.  It is the difference between the unknown and the unknowable, between science and fantasy — it is a matter of essence.  The four points of the compass be logic, knowledge, wisdom, and the unknown.  Some do bow in that final direction.  Others advance upon it.  To bow before the one is to lose sight of the three.  I may submit to the unknown, but never to the unknowable”

In Lord of Light, the Rakshasa play the role of demons, but they are the original inhabitants of a world conquered by human colonists. As such, they are natural creatures and fall under the domain of science. While I do not completely agree with Zelazny’s distinction, I find it appealing and reasonable enough to use as the foundation for the following discussion of the movie.

Interstellar initially stays within the realm of science-fiction by staying within the sphere of scientific speculation about hypersleep, wormholes and black holes. While the script does take some liberties with science, this is fine for the obvious reason that this is science fiction and not a science lecture. Interstellar also has the interesting bonus of having contributed to real science about the appearance of black holes. That aspect would provide some justification for showing it in a science class.

Another part of the movie that would be suitable for a science class are the scenes in which Murph thinks that her room might be haunted by a ghost. Cooper, her father, urges her to apply the scientific method to the phenomenon. Of course, it might be considered bad parenting for a parent to urge his child to study what might be a dangerous phenomenon in her room. Cooper also instantly dismisses the ghost hypothesis—which can be seen as being very scientific (since there has been no evidence of ghosts) to not very scientific (since this might be evidence of ghosts).

The story does include the point that the local school is denying that the moon-landings really occurred and the official textbooks support this view. Murph is punished at school for arguing that the moon landings did occur and is rewarded by Cooper. This does make a point about science denial and could thus be of use in the classroom. At least until the state decrees that the moon landings never happened.

Ironically, the story presents its own conspiracies and casts two of the main scientists (Brand and Mann) as liars. Brand lies about his failed equation for “good” reasons—to keep people working on a project that has a chance and to keep morale up. Mann lies about the habitability of his world because, despite being built up in the story as the best of the scientists, he cannot take the strain of being alone. As such, the movie sends a mixed message about conspiracies and lying scientists. While learning that some people are liars has value, this does not add to the movie’s value as a science class film. Now, to get back to science.

The science core of the movie, however, focuses on holes: the wormhole and the black hole. As noted above, the movie does stick within the realm of speculative science about the wormhole and the black hole—at least until near the end of the movie.

It turns out that all that is needed to fix Brand’s equation is data from inside a black hole. Conveniently, one is present. Also conveniently, Cooper and the cool robot TARS end up piloting their ships into the black hole as part of the plan to save Brand. It is at this point that the movie moves from science to fantasy.

Cooper and TARS manage to survive being dragged into the black hole, which might be scientifically fine. However, they are then rescued by the mysterious “they” (whoever created the wormhole and sent messages to NASA).

Cooper is transported into a tesseract or something. The way it works in the movie is that Cooper is floating “in” what seems to be a massive structure. In “reality” it is nifty blend of time and space—he can see and interact with all the temporal slices that occurred in Murph’s room. Crudely put, it allows him to move in time as if it were space. While it is also sort of still space. While this is rather weird, it is still within the realm of speculative science fiction.

Cooper is somehow able to interact with the room using weird movie plot rules—he can knock books off the shelves in a Morse code pattern, he can precisely change local gravity to provide the location of the NASA base in binary, and finally he can manipulate the hand of the watch he gave his daughter to convey the data needed to complete the equation. Weirdly, he cannot just manipulate a pen or pencil to write things out. But movies got to movie. While a bit absurd, this is still science fiction.

The main problem lies with the way Cooper solves the problem of locating Murph at the right time. While at this point, I would have bought the idea that he figured out the time scale of the room and could rapidly check it, the story has Cooper navigate through the vast time room using love as a “force” that can transcend time. While it is possible that Cooper is wrong about what he is really doing, the movie certainly presents it as if this love force is what serves as his temporal positioning system.

While love is a great thing, there are not even remotely scientific theories that provide a foundation for love having the qualities needed to enable such temporal navigation. There is, of course, scientific research into love and other emotions. The best of current love science indicates that love is a “mechanical” phenomena (in the philosophical sense) and there is nothing to even suggest that it provides what amounts to supernatural abilities.

It would, of course, be fine to have Cooper keep on trying because he loves his children—love does that. But making love into some sort of trans-dimensional force is clearly supernatural fantasy rather than science and certainly not suitable for a science lesson (well, other than to show what is not science).

One last concern I have with using the movie in a science class is the use of super beings. While the audience learns little of the beings, the movie indicates they can manipulate time and space. They create the wormhole, they pull Cooper and TARS from a black hole, they send Cooper back in time and enable him to communicate in stupid ways, and so on. The movie also tells the audience the beings are probably future humans (or what humanity becomes) and that they can “see” all of time. While the movie does not mention this, this is how St. Augustine saw God: He is outside of time. They are also benign and demonstrate they care about some individuals but not others. While they save Cooper and TARS, they also let many people die.

Given these qualities, it is easy to see these beings (or being) as playing the role of God or even being gods: super powerful, sometimes benign beings, that have incredible power over time and space. Yet they are fine with letting lots of people die needlessly while miraculously saving a person or two. For reasons.

Given the wormhole, it is easy to compare this movie to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. This show had a wormhole populated by powerful beings that existed outside of our normal dimensions. To the people of Bajor, these beings were divine and supernatural Prophets. To Star Fleet, they were the wormhole aliens. While Star Trek is supposed to be science fiction, some episodes involving the prophets did blur the lines into fantasy, perhaps intentionally.

Getting back to Interstellar, it could be argued that the mysterious “they” are like the Rakshasa of Lord of Light: in that they (or whatever) have many of the attributes of God or gods but are not supernatural beings. Being fiction, this could be set by fiat, but this does raise the boundary question. To be specific, does saying that something that has what appear to be the usual supernatural powers is not supernatural make it science-fiction rather than fantasy? Answering this requires working out a proper theory of the boundary, which goes beyond the scope of this essay. However, I will note that having the day saved by the intervention of mysterious and almost divinely powerful beings does not seem to make the movie suitable for a science class. Rather, it makes it seem to be more of a fantasy story masquerading as science fiction.

My overall view is that showing parts of Interstellar, specifically the science parts, could be fine for a science class. However, the movie is more fantasy than science fiction.  

In the United States, freedom of expression is a legally protected right. Mostly. More importantly, from a philosophical perspective, it is also a well-supported moral right. As such, an appeal to freedom of expression can be a useful way to argue ethics. While appeals to freedom of expression are usually used against curtailing expression, they are also employed against compelled expression. For example, the Religious Freedom Restoration Act was alleged to be aimed at protecting people from certain types of alleged compelled expression.

In the case of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, the argument from freedom of expression would not justify genera discrimination in regards to providing goods and services. For example, the owner of a pizzeria would be hard pressed to claim that not being allowed to forbid gay people from buying his pizza violates his freedom of expression. However, an appeal to freedom of expression might be applicable in certain cases.

While freedom of expression is typically presented as a right against being silenced, it also provides the right not to be compelled to express views (specifically views that one does not hold or that one opposes). The right to not be compelled in one’s expression would thus seem to give a person a moral right to refuse certain services.

This line of reasoning is appealing. For example, I operate a writing business. I write books I sell through Amazon and DriveThruRPG and I do freelance work. My writing is an act of expression. As such, my freedom of expression grants me a moral right to refuse to write a tract endorsing Nazism or one advocating hatred of Christians. I also design book covers and do some graphic work (graphic as in visual, not as in adult content). Since these are expressions, I have the moral right to refuse to make a book cover for book expressing ideas I regard as morally wrong, such as eliminating religious freedom in favor of enforced atheism. This is because the creation of such work entails a clear endorsement and expression of the ideas. If I write a tract in favor of white supremacy, I am unambiguously expressing my support of the idea. If I knowingly create a cover for a book on white supremacy, then it would be reasonable to infer I agreed with the ideas. In such cases, an appeal to freedom of expression would seem quite relevant and reasonable.

Obviously, an author or cover designer who believes that her religion condemns same-sex marriage would also be protected by the freedom of expression from being required to express support for it. If a LGBT group approached her and offered her a fat stack of cash to pen a piece in favor of gay marriage, she would have the moral right to reject their offer. After all, they have no moral right to expect her to express views she does not hold, even for fat stacks of cash. The writer would, of course, have every right to sell out for cash, although that does raise another moral issue.

In contrast, I could not use freedom of expression as a reason to not sell one of my books or works to a person. For example, freedom of expression does not grant me the right to forbid Amazon from selling my books to Nazis, racists, intolerant atheists, or non-runners. After all, selling a book to a person is not an endorsement of that person’s ideas. I do not endorse intolerant atheism just because an intolerant atheist can buy my book.

Likewise, the author who believes her religion condemns same-sex marriage as wickedness could not use freedom of expression to demand that Amazon not sell her books to homosexuals. While buying a book might suggest agreement with the author (but it obviously does not entail it—I have many philosophy books whose contents I disagree with), it does not suggest that the author is endorsing the purchaser. So, if a gay person buys the author’s anti-same-sex marriage book, it does not mean that the author is endorsing same-sex marriage.

Not surprisingly, no one has claimed that religious freedom acts are needed to protect Christian writers from being forced to write pro-gay works. However, it has been argued that such laws are needed to protect the freedom of expression for people such as caterers, bakers, and photographers.

The argument is that catering a wedding, baking a wedding cake, doing a wedding or engagement photo shoot and similar things are expressions and are thus covered by the right to freedom of expression.

Obviously enough, if these activities are expressions analogous to the paradigm cases of speech and writing, then the freedom of expression does protect them. As such, the key question is whether such actions are acts of expression such that engaging in them in relation to a same-sex wedding would express an endorsement of same-sex marriage.

To get the obvious out of the way, refusing to cater, photograph or bake a cake for a wedding because the people involved were Jewish, black, Christian, white, or Canadian would clearly be discrimination. If the person refusing to do so said that baking a cake for a Jew endorsed Judaism, that catering a black wedding endorsed blackness, or that photographing Canadians being married was an endorsement of Canada, she would be dismissed as either joking or crazy.  But perhaps a case could be made that catering, baking and photographing are expressions of agreement or endorsement.

On the face of it, catering food for a wedding would not seem to be expressing approval or agreement with the wedding, regardless of what sort of wedding it might be. Selling someone food seems like selling them a book as their buying it says nothing about what I endorse or believe. When the pizza delivery person arrives with a pizza when I am playing D&D, I do not say “aha, Hungry Howie’s endorses role-playing games!” After all, they are just selling me pizza.

In the case of the wedding cake, it could be argued that it is a specific sort of cake and creating one is an endorsement. By this reasoning, a birthday cake would entail an endorsement of the person’s birth and continued existence, a congratulations cake would entail an endorsement of that person’s achievement and so on for all the various cakes.  This, obviously enough, seems implausible. Making a birthday cake for me does not show that Publix endorses my birth or continued existence. They are just selling me a cake. Likewise, selling a person a wedding cake does not entail approval of the wedding. Obviously enough, if a baker sells a wedding cake to a person who has committed adultery, this does not entail her approval of adultery.

It could be argued that bakers have the right to refuse a specific design or message on the cake. For example, a Jewish baker could claim that he has the right to refuse to create a Nazi cake with swastikas and Nazi slogans. This seems reasonable. A baker, like a writer, should not be compelled to create content she does not wish to express. Given this principle, a baker could refuse to bake a sexually explicit wedding cake or one festooned with gay pride slogans and condemnations of us straight folks. However, creating a basic wedding cake is not an expression of ideas and would be on par with selling a person a book rather than being forced to write specific content. By analogy, I cannot refuse to sell a book to a person because he is an intolerant atheist, but I can refuse the contract to write in support of that view.

Since photography is a form of art (at least in some cases), it is reasonable to see it as a form of artistic expression. On this ground it is reasonable to accept that photography is protected by the freedom of expression. The key issue here is whether taking pictures commercially is like writing words, that photographing something is an endorsement of the activity or if it is like selling a book, which is merely selling a product and not an endorsement.

On the face of it, commercial photography would seem to be like selling a book. A person who is paid to cover a war or a disaster is not taken as endorsing the war or the disaster. One would not say that because a person took a photo of a soldier shooting a civilian that he endorses that activity. Likewise, a person photographing a wedding is not endorsing the wedding, she is merely recording the event. For money.

It might be countered that a wedding photographer is different from other commercial photographers as she is involved in the process and her involvement is an expression of approval. But, of course, commercial photographers who take photos at sports events, political events, protests and such are also involved in the process as they are there, taking pictures. However, a photographer hired to take pictures of Hilary Clinton does not thus express her support for Hilary. She is just taking pictures.  Fox News, after all, has lots of videos and photos of Hilary Clinton, but they do not thereby endorse Hilary. As such, the freedom of expression would not seem to grant a commercial photographer the right to refuse to photograph a same-sex wedding based on an appeal to freedom of expression since taking photos does not involve endorsing the subject.

That said, another approach would be to argue that while taking a photo of an event does not entail endorsement of the event, an artist cannot be compelled to create a work of art that she does not wish to create. Since a photograph is art, a wedding photographer cannot be compelled to create an image of a same-sex wedding, just as a writer cannot be justly compelled to write a certain sort of book. This is appealing. After all, a photographer has every right to refuse to take photos of a wedding orgy or even of a tastefully nude wedding based on the content.

Of course, this would also allow commercial wedding photographers to refuse to take photos of blacks, Christians, Jews, or anyone they dislike on the grounds that she does not want to create, for example, a photographic work including crosses or black people. So, consistency would to require that if wedding photographers can refuse to serve gay clients based on artistic content, then a wedding photographer could refuse anyone on the same grounds. Thus, wedding photographers should be permitted to have “whites only”, “straights only”, “atheists only”, “No MAGA” or “gays only” signs on their business. For artistic reasons, of course. But that does seem a bit problematic.

While my adopted state of Florida has many interesting tales, perhaps the most famous is the story of Juan Ponce de León’s quest to find the fountain of youth. As the name suggests, this enchanted fountain was supposed to grant eternal life to those who partook of its waters.

While the fountain of youth is regarded as a myth, it turns out that the story about Juan Ponce de León’s quest is also a fiction. And not just fiction, it is slander.

In 1511, or so the history goes, Ponce was forced to resign his post as governor of Puerto Rico. King Ferdinand offered Ponce an opportunity: if he could find Bimini, it would be his. That, and not the fountain of youth, was the object of his quest. In support of this, J. Michael Francis of the University of South Florida, claims that the documents of the time make no mention of a fountain of youth. According to Francis, a fellow named Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo y Valdés disliked Ponce, most likely because of the political struggle in Puerto Rico.  Oviedo wrote a tale in his Historia general y natural de las Indias claiming that Ponce was tricked by the natives into searching for the fountain of youth.

This fictional “history” stuck (rather like the arrow that killed Ponce) and has become a world-wide legend. Not surprisingly, my adopted state is happy to cash in on this tale. There is even a well at St. Augustine’s Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park that is popular with tourists. There is irony in the fact that a tale intended to slander Ponce as a fool has given him lasting fame is. Given the success of the story, this is a case where fiction is better than the truth. While this is but one example, it does raise a general philosophical matter regarding truth and fiction.

From a moral and historical standpoint, the easy and obvious answer to the general question of whether a good fiction is better than a truth is “no.”  After all, a fiction of this sort is a lie and there are the usual moral arguments why lying is generally wrong. In this specific case, there is also the fact (if the story is true) that Oviedo slandered Ponce from malice and this seems morally wrong.

 In the case of history, the proper end is the truth. As Aristotle said, it is the function of the historian to relate what happened. In contrast, it is the function of the poet to relate what may happen. As such, for the moral philosopher and the honest historian, no fiction is better than the truth. But, of course, these are not the only legitimate perspectives on the matter.

Since the story of Ponce and the fountain of youth is fiction, it is not unreasonable to also consider it in the context of aesthetics in terms of its value as a story. While Oviedo intended for his story to be taken as true, he can be considered an artist. Looked at as a work of fiction, the story does relate to what could happen. After all, a person can quest for something that does not exist. To use an example from the same time, Orellana and Pizarro went searching for the legendary city of El Dorado (unless, of course, this is just another fiction).

While it might seem odd to take a lie as art, the connection between the untrue and art is well-established. In the Poetics, Aristotle notes how “Homer has chiefly taught other poets the art of telling lies skillfully” and he regards such skillful lies as a legitimate part of art. Oscar Wilde, in his “New Aesthetics” presents as his fourth doctrine that “Lying, the telling of beautiful untrue things is the proper aim of Art.” A little reflection shows they are correct, at least in the case of fiction. After all, fiction is untrue by definition, yet is a form of art. When an actor plays Hamlet and says the lines, he pours forth lie after lie. The Chronicles of Narnia are also untrue as there is no Narnia and no Aslan. Likewise for even mundane fiction, such as Moby Dick. As such, being untrue or even a lie in the strict sense of the term does not disqualify a work from being art.

Looked at as a work of art, the story of the fountain of youth seems better than the truth. While the true story of Ponce is certainly not a bad tale (a journey of exploration ending in death from a wound suffered in battle), the story of a quest for the fountain of youth has proven the better tale. This is not to say that the truth of the matter should be ignored, just that the fiction is acceptable as a beautiful, untrue thing.

A Philosopher’s Blog 2025 brings together a year of sharp, accessible, and often provocative reflections on the moral, political, cultural, and technological challenges of contemporary life. Written by philosopher Michael LaBossiere, these essays move fluidly from the ethics of AI to the culture wars, from conspiracy theories to Dungeons & Dragons, from public policy to personal agency — always with clarity, humor, and a commitment to critical thinking.

Across hundreds of entries, LaBossiere examines the issues shaping our world:

  • AI, technology, and the future of humanity — from mind‑uploading to exoskeletons, deepfakes, and the fate of higher education
  • Politics, power, and public life — including voting rights, inequality, propaganda, and the shifting landscape of American democracy
  • Ethics in everyday life — guns, healthcare, charity, masculinity, inheritance, and the moral puzzles hidden in ordinary choices
  • Culture, identity, and conflict — racism, gender, religion, free speech, and the strange logic of modern outrage
  • Philosophy in unexpected places — video games, D&D, superheroes, time travel, and the metaphysics of fictional worlds

Whether he is dissecting the rhetoric of conspiracy theories, exploring the ethics of space mining, or reflecting on the death of a beloved dog, LaBossiere invites readers into a conversation that is rigorous without being rigid, principled without being preachy, and always grounded in the belief that philosophy is for everyone.

This collection is for readers who want more than hot takes — who want to understand how arguments work, why beliefs matter, and how to think more clearly in a world that rewards confusion.

Thoughtful, wide‑ranging, and often darkly funny, A Philosopher’s Blog 2025 is a companion for anyone trying to make sense of the twenty‑first century.

 

Available for $2.99 on Amazon

 

 

 

While there is an established history of superhero characters having their ethnicity or gender changed, each change often creates a small uproar (and not just among the fans). For example, while the original Nick Fury is white, the character is black in some worlds. And Samuel Jackson played the character in the MCU movies and shows). As another example, a woman took on the role of Thor. I will be using “ethnicity” here rather than “race” because in most comic book worlds humans are one race, just as Kryptonians and Kree are races.

Some complaints about these changes are based in racism and sexism. While interesting from the standpoint of psychological analysis and ethical evaluation, these complaints are not worthy of serious aesthetics consideration. Instead, I will focus on legitimate concerns about such change.

A good place to begin is to address reasonable concerns about continuity and adherence to the original source material. Just as, for example, having Batman with Superman’s powers would break continuity, making him an Hispanic woman would also seem to break it. Just as Batman normally has no superpowers, he is also a white guy.

One obvious reply is that characters change over time. To use an obvious example, when Superman first appeared he was faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap tall buildings. However, he did not fly and did not have heat vision. Over the years writers added abilities and increased his powers until he became the Superman of today. Character background and origin stories are also frequently modified. If these sorts of changes are acceptable, then this opens the door to changes to the character’s ethnicity or gender.

One easy way to justify any change is to use alternative realities. When D.C. was faced with the problem of “explaining” the first versions of Flash (who wore a Mercury style helmet), Batman, Green Lantern (whose power was magic and whose vulnerability was wood) and Superman they came up with the idea of having Earth 1 and Earth 2. This soon became a standard device for creating more comics to sell, although it did have the effect of creating a bit of a mess for fans trying to keep track of things. An infinite number of earths is a lot to keep track of, which led to a crisis.  Marvel also has its famous “What If” series which allow for changes with an in-world (or across world) justification.

While the use of parallel and possible worlds provides an easy out, there is still the matter of changing the gender or ethnicity of the “real” character (as opposed to just having an alternative version). One option is to not have any “real” character as every version (whether on TV, in the movies or in comics) is just as “real” and “official” as any other. While this solves the problem by fiat, there still seems to be a legitimate question about whether all these variations should be considered the same character. That is, whether a Hispanic female Flash would really be the Flash.

In some cases, the matter is easy to handle. Some superheroes occupy roles, hold “super jobs” or have gear or an item that makes them super. For example, anyone can be a Green Lantern (provided the person qualifies for the ring). While the original Green Lantern was a white guy, a Hispanic woman could join the corps and thus be a Green Lantern. Just as almost, anyone can be a police officer or soldier.

As another example, being Iron Man could be seen as just a matter of wearing the armor. So, an Asian woman could wear Iron Man armor and be Iron Woman. As a final example, being Robin seems to be a role. As different white boys have occupied that role, there seems to be no real issue with having a female Robin (which has been done) or a Robin who is not white.

In many cases a gender change would be pointless because female versions of the character already exist. For example, a female Superman would just be another Supergirl or Power Girl. As another example, a female Batman would just be Batwoman or Batgirl, superheroes who already exist. So, what remains are cases that are not so easy to handle.

While every character has an “original” gender and ethnicity (for example, Captain America started as a white male), it is not always the case that the original’s gender and ethnicity are essential to the character. That is, the character would still make sense, and it would still be reasonable to regard the character as the same (only with a different ethnicity or gender).  This, of course, raises metaphysical concerns about essential qualities and identity. Put very simply, an essential quality is one that if an entity loses that quality, it ceases to be what it is. For example, having three sides is an essential quality for a triangle: if it ceases to be three sided, it ceases to be a triangle. Color and size are not the essential qualities of triangles. A red triangle that is painted blue does not cease to be a triangle.

In the case of superheroes, the key question here is one about which qualities are essential to being that hero and which ones can be changed while maintaining the identity of the character. One way to approach this is in terms of personal identity and to use models that philosophers use for real people. Another approach is to go with an approach that is more about aesthetics than metaphysics. That is, to base the essential qualities on aesthetic essentials, qualities relevant to being the right sort of fictional character.

One plausible approach here is to consider whether a character’s ethnicity and gender are essential to the character. That is, for example, whether Captain America would still be Captain America if he were black or a woman. Or a Colonel.

One key aspect of it would be how these qualities would fit the origin story in terms of plausibility. Going with the Captain America example, Steve Rogers could have been black. Black Americans served in WWII and it would be plausible that the super soldier experiment would be done on African-Americans (because they did experiments in the real world). Making Captain America into a woman would be implausible in a WWII world like our own. The sexism of the time would have ensured that a woman would not have been used in such an experiment and American women were not allowed to enlist in the combat infantry. But, of course, the creation could be an accident. As another example, the Flash could easily be cast as a woman or as having any ethnicity. Tere is nothing about the Flash’s origin that requires that the Flash be a white guy.

Some characters, however, have origin stories that would make it implausible for the character to have a different ethnicity or gender. For example, Wonder Woman would not work as a man, given the nature of the Amazons. She could, however, be cast as any ethnicity (since she is, in the original story, created from a statue).

Another key aspect would be the role of the character in terms of what he or she represents or stands for. For example, Black Panther’s origin story would seem to preclude him from being any ethnicity other than black. His role would also seem to preclude that, as well as a white Black Panther would, it would seem, simply not fit the role. Black Panther could, perhaps, be a woman especially since being the Black Panther is a role. So, to answer the title question, Black Panther could not be white. Or, more accurately, should not be white. 

As a closing point, it could be argued that all that really matters is whether the story is a good one or not. So, if a good story can be told casting Spider-Man as a black woman then that is all the justification needed for the change.

Once and future presidential candidate Mike Huckabee once expressed his concern about the profanity flowing from the mouths of New York Fox News ladies: “In Iowa, you would not have people who would just throw the f-bomb and use gratuitous profanity in a professional setting. In New York, not only do the men do it, but the women do it! This would be considered totally inappropriate to say these things in front of a woman. For a woman to say them in a professional setting that’s just trashy!”

In response, Erin Gloria Ryan posted a piece on Jezebel.com. As might be suspected, the piece utilized the language that Mike dislikes and she started off with “listen up, cunts: folksy as balls probable 2016 Presidential candidate Mike Huckabee has some goddamn opinions about what sort of language women should use. And guess the fuck what? You bitches need to stop with this swearing shit.” While the short article did not set a record for OD (Obscenity Density), the author did make a good go at it.

I am not much for swearing. In fact, I used to say, “swearing is for people who don’t how to use words well.” That said, I do recognize there are proper uses for swearing.

While I generally do not favor swearing, there are exceptions in which it is not only permissible, but necessary. For example, when I was running college cross country, one of the other runners was looking super rough after a run. The coach asked him how he felt, and he said, “I feel like shit coach.” The coach corrected him by saying “no, you feel like crap.” He replied, “No, coach, I feel like shit.” And he was completely right. Inspired by the memory of this exchange, I will endeavor to discuss proper swearing. I am, of course, not developing a full theory of swearing.

I do agree with some of what Huckabee said, namely the criticism of swearing in a professional context. However, my professional context is academics, and I am doing my professional thing in front of students and other faculty. Not exactly a place where gratuitous f-bombing would be appropriate or even useful. It would also make me appear sloppy and stupid, as if I could not express ideas or keep the attention of the class or colleagues without the cheap shock theatrics of swearing.

I am open to the idea that such swearing could be appropriate in certain professional contexts. That is, that the vocabulary of swearing would be necessary to describe professional matters accurately and doing so would not make a person seem sloppy, disrespectful or stupid. Perhaps Fox News and Jezebel.com are such places.

While I was raised with certain patriarchal views, I have shed most of them but must confess I retain a psychological residue. Hearing a woman feels worse than hearing a man swear, but I know this just confirms I am an old man. If it is appropriate for a man to swear, the same right of swearing applies to a woman equally. I’m gender neutral about swearing, at least in principle.

Outside of the professional setting, I have a general opposition to casual and repetitive swearing. The main reason is that I look at words and phrases as tools. As with any tool, they have suitable and proper uses. While a screwdriver could be used to pound in nails, that is a poor use.  While a shotgun could be used to kill a fly, that is excessive and will cause needless collateral damage. Likewise, swear words have specific functions and using them poorly can show not only a lack of manners and respect, but a lack of artistry.

In general, the function of swear words is to serve as dramatic tools. They are supposed to shock and to convey something strong, such as great anger. To use them casually and constantly is like using a scalpel to cut everything from paper to salami. While it will work, the blade will grow dull from repeated use and will no longer function well when needed for its proper task. So, I reserve my swear words not because I am prudish, but because if I wear them out, they will not serve me when I really need them most. For example, if I were to say “we are fucked” all the time for any minor problem, then when a situation in which we are well and truly fucked arrives, I will not be able to use that phrase effectively. But, if I save it for when the fuck really hits the fan, then people who know me will know that it has gotten truly serious for I will have broken out the “it is serious” words.

As another example, swear words should be saved for when a powerful insult or judgment is needed. If I were to constantly call normal people “fuckers” or describe not-so-bad things as being “shit”, then I would have little means of describing very bad people and very bad things. While I generally avoid swearing, I do need those words from time to time, such as when someone really is a fucker or something truly is shit. Which is often the case these days.

Of course, swear words can be used for humorous purposes. This is not really my sort of thing, but their shock value can serve well to make a strong point or shock. However, if the words are too worn by constant use, then they can no longer serve their purpose. And, of course, it can be all too easy and inartistic to get a laugh simply by being crude. True artistry involves being able to get laughs using the same language one would use in front of grandpa in church. Of course, there is also artistry to swearing, but that is more than just doing it all the time.

I would not dream of imposing on others. Folks who wish to communicate using an abundance of swear words have every right to do so, just as someone is free to pound nails with a screwdriver or whittle with a scalpel. However, it does bother me a bit that these words are being dulled and weakened by excessive use. If this keeps up, we will need to make new words and phrases to replace them.