Historians need to differentiate between the reality of war and die way in which a culture conceives of war: between the concrete and the conceptual. At die conceptual pole, the term ‘discourse’ signifies the complex of assumptions, perceptions, expectations, and values regarding conflict, violence, and armed struggle. Discourse does not necessarily assume an ideal of war, as it often encompasses elements that are far from ideal. As demonstrated by the highly conventional style of warfare practised by the classical Greeks, a discourse can exert great influence in shaping reality. Sometimes, however, the discourse does not match die contemporary weaponry and logistics, and must adjust. During die First World War, romanticized conceptions of warfare perished in the trenches of 1915. A feedback loop circulates between discourse and reality, even though the two are never identical.
A particular society and culture can produce different discourses, defined by class, gender, or profession. Thus, during the Middle Ages, the aristocracy idealized and lauded chivalric violence, the peasantry feared it because they became its unwilling victims, and the Church condemned it as sin, except on crusade. Since the rise of general staffs, military professionals have systematized their discourses in theory and doctrine. This has never been clearer than in the masterful, but culturally specific, work of Karl von Clausewitz, which has influenced military conceptions of warfare for over one hundred and sixty years. The tensions between conflicting discourses and the discord between the dominant discourse and reality make for some of the most interesting questions to be answered by military history.
If a society produces a discourse on violence, central to its value system but unable to be matched with the reality of war, it may devise a perfected reality that conforms with its ideal discourse, if only for the élites.
…When one side interprets the enemy’s actions as improper conduct of war, it may exchange its own dominant discourse for an alternative that justifies a reality stripped of constraints. This is most easily done when cultures collide in battle, as they did in the Pacific in the Second World War. Each side came to see the other as uncivilized and to be treated with unbridled brutality.
…The racist views of the Japanese held by US troops only registered at the peripheries of combat: the reluctance to take prisoners, the treatment of those taken, and the abuse of the dead. Racism determined neither US miHtary doctrine nor the US strategy that culminated in the use of the atomic weapons.
…Bodi the chosen case studies and the theory challenge the claim made by Victor Davis Hanson, John Keegan, and Geoffrey Parker that one can trace a definably Western way of war back to classical Greece. Hanson insists that an unbroken 2,500-year tradition based originally on Greek practice explains not only why Western forces have overcome great odds to defeat their adversaries but also their uncanny ability to project power well beyond the shores of Europe and America.
…Claims of continuity in the West become less tenuous as analyses of cultural discourse rather than as statements about the reality of war. Western literature kept alive stories of classical commanders and conquests and preserved some classical studies of warfare, but the memory of the classical past was used selectively, often as metaphor.
Posted inHistory, Narrative|Comments Off on Discourse, Reality, and the Culture of Combat
This paper argues that the concept of the civilian is a specific way of viewing non-combatants that can be traced to the First World War. Before the war, non-combatants were seen by the law and the prevailing culture as citizens. The citizen was potentially and probably aggressive, bound to the fate of his or her state and, therefore, granted only minimal protection by law. The war, however, brought technological changes and a propaganda effort that transformed these citizens into a civilian population. Civilians were essential to the war effort, which meant that they were a target. Yet, at the same time, they were feminized, described as vulnerable and deserving of protection. This cultural shift influenced the way in which the laws of war were understood, leading to the replacement of the traditional categories of law with a military/civilian distinction in the 1923 Hague Draft Rules of Aerial Warfare. In this way the concept of the civilian entered international law.
Civilians today attract the protection of international law and the attention of the world. Among observers of conflict the plight of civilians is arguably the foremost concern. In more theoretical circles, the inviolability of the civilian has become so obvious and crucial that it has been described as the foundation of international order. Yet the very importance of the civilian provokes the questions, what is the source of this concern and what implications does it have for its subject? Some international lawyers presume that it is a timeless principle of international law.2 Others see it as an achievement of the Lieber Code, the Hague Conventions, and/or the Geneva Conventions.3 In this article, however, I argue that the idea of the civilian is a peculiar way of conceptualizing people that evolved during the First World War. When the war began non-combatants were perceived as citizens, who were either voluntarily passive or wilfully dangerous. But after the Germans invaded Belgium Allied propaganda erased the threatening aspect of the non-combatant population and redrew them as helpless victims… Governments and population alike acknowledged the vital role of non-combatants in the modern, industrialized
war machine, while military strategists described them as a key military target. It was this paradoxical reconstruction of non-combatants as both weak and critically important, as both pitiful victims and primary targets, that constituted the new idea of the civilian population.
…The civilian has achieved such ascendancy in international law that it is hard to imagine a code of warfare or a world without civilians. Indeed, it is often written that the civilian has long existed as a protected subject of international law.5 Yet both the term ‘civilian’ and the group it describes are relatively new.
…Citizens of an enemy state are enemies too. But if they are not combatants then they are passive enemies… If, however, placing pressure on the general population can
bring the war to a speedy conclusion then it will be allowed as a necessity of war.
…During the war, in the ‘theatre of operations’, they could expect little relief. Their property could be destroyed and, if they were besieged, they could be killed by bombardment or starvation.22 There was no obligation to allow ‘useless mouths’ to leave a besieged town.23
…As Captain Liddell Hart argued in Paris, or the Future of War, the old strategy of destroying the enemy’s armed forces was misguided and outdated. Rather, the purpose of war was to destroy the enemy’s will to resist – the moral objective. This objective should be pursued in the easiest and most cost-effective way possible. And now the aeroplane
had exposed the easiest target, the Achilles heel of civilization – the civilian.
* Liddell Hart’s expectation that civilians would be the primary target in the next war was generally shared.96 This military consensus also held that it would be useless to try to defend civilians. In the influential Air Warfare, Sherman explains that using aircraft for defence was a misallocation of resources that would ultimately lead to defeat. Anti-aircraft guns, according to Douhet – the accepted authority on air strategy – were also a useless waste of energy and resources.97 In this situation, Douhet asks, ‘How can we defend ourselves against them? To this I have always answered, “by attacking”.’98 The threatened state must send their bombers against the enemy. War would no longer be a battle between soldiers but a contest to see which population would crack first. ‘To put it vulgarly’, as Colonel Fuller wrote, ‘in the next great war [the civilian] is going to be “in the soup”, and what kind of soup will it be? A pretty hot one!’99 Most military writers accepted this development and some actively embraced it.
…Faced with the destructive potential of the aeroplane, states might hesitate to go to war. When they did start a war, it would be sharper and shorter and, therefore, more humane.101 Instead of the appalling slaughter of millions of soldiers as in the last war, Fuller suggested that an air campaign could end a war with only a few thousand of the enemy’s men, women, and children killed.102 He also thought that technical developments might allow non-lethal gases to be used in air raids.103 At any rate, both he and Liddell Hart felt that everyone would attempt to limit the destruction in the hope of future friendly relations between the warring states.104
…Yet even if there were greater civilian casualties than they forecast, these writers agreed that it would still be no more immoral than traditional forms of warfare. Killing civilians in an air raid, they argued, was no worse than the cannon-fodder wars of the past, sinking ships, or starving people.105 Moreover, there was no reason why civilians should be immune from war. When a nation went to war the entire population was involved and the solidarity and capacity of the fighting forces depended on the people at home.106 Indeed, as Fuller suggests, the civil population is responsible for its government and must bear the consequences of its decisions…
…This acceptance of civilians as targets was even shared by some international lawyers. The postwar editions of Oppenheim’s International Law suggested that the development of aerial warfare, the idea of the nation-in-arms, and the spread of democracy had threatened any distinction between the armed forces and civilians. Meanwhile Royse argued that there had never been an effective norm that protected non-combatants and that aerial bombardment directed at civilians was legal.108
…It was not until the 1949 Geneva Convention IV that any protection for civilians was codified, and not until the 1977 Additional Protocols that the principle of distinction was ratified.
Posted inHuman Rights|Comments Off on The Genesis of the Civilian
PodNotes generated this AI summary: I want to discuss masculinity and its measure: providing for your family. It’s simple—being a man means supporting your wife and kids legally and ethically. If you’re proud of your work, it likely means you’re doing it right.
I’ve learned from personal experience that making money has an uplifting effect on men. After recovering from chronic fatigue syndrome in 1993 with the help of medication, my psychiatrist Daniel Golwyn in Orlando encouraged me to show how much money I could make. Instead, I chased dreams like writing a book and blogging until realizing around 2015 the importance of serious earning.
Making money forces men to engage with the world positively—it demands cooperation, respect for others’ rights, and meeting their needs. This focus pulls men away from selfishness towards service.
Consider this: if you have 100 men where half prioritize religion over earnings while the other half focuses on financial success—I’m more impressed by those who value earning highly. For example, in orthodox Judaism living costs are high; thus prioritizing earning is necessary.
Masculinity also requires male spaces which are increasingly rare due to egalitarian ideals pushing inclusion at all costs. However, distinctions are crucial for civilization—and masculine spaces foster healthiness among men.
In Genesis after Eden’s fall God highlighted our essences—women bear children through pain; men earn bread through sweat.
Lastly regarding Trump—he appeals strongly to certain types of masculinity emphasizing dominance which resonates with many voters despite criticism about performative traits or aggressive posturing as traditional masculinity faces societal scrutiny.
Traditional male roles as family providers are challenged today by economic and social changes, including civil rights movements. Men find it harder to be the sole breadwinner, owning a home and supporting a family. Women adapt well to law-abiding roles in our tech-driven economy.
In right-wing culture, there’s a belief that the left dislikes masculinity. Mainstream religions like Judaism and Christianity no longer reserve rituals for men only, leading to men leaving these faiths. Growing religious groups do offer male-only spaces which appeal to those seeking traditional masculine values.
Figures like Tate, Jordan Peterson, and Joe Rogan claim they’re standing up for men against an anti-masculine worldview. School curriculums don’t cater much to typical male interests like competition or strategy games; instead, they downplay such desires.
There’s also an educational divide where males of European heritage often study out of pure interest rather than grades compared to their Asian counterparts who focus on test outcomes.
Political shifts show young Black and Latino men moving rightward due partly to perceptions of party representation regarding gender issues. Trump’s pre-political celebrity status as a wealthy businessman still influences his political image among evangelicals despite his moral shortcomings because he embodies power and traditional masculinity—a trait admired even if flawed according to some evangelical interpretations of biblical leaders.
The label “evangelical” is becoming more about cultural identity than religious belief among White Americans supportive of Trump—it signifies alignment with conservative Christian values without necessarily involving active religious practice or beliefs.
Finally, this shift towards identifying with Christianity has less theological meaning but more so represents belonging within certain ethnic or national identities in both America and Europe—where being labeled as Christian can equate with not being part of other minority groups.
Political scientists and sociologists measure our party preferences by how much we like our own party versus the opposing one. This measure reveals that white Americans who strongly affirm Christian Nationalism tend to favor Republicans and dislike Democrats, while this effect is not seen in Black Americans.
Chad suggests masculinity involves taking responsibility for others, such as family and community. Political leanings also influence views on individual rights versus group obligations; those on the right emphasize traditional life obligations more than those on the left.
Research shows that when accounting for Christian Nationalism, religious commitment predicts less xenophobia and support for border walls among Christians. Conversely, stronger affirmation of Christian Nationalism correlates with xenophobic attitudes and opposition to gun control measures.
Christian Nationalist rhetoric often evokes a sense of heritage and identity tied to whiteness. It can mask feelings of marginalization among white males who may feel sidelined culturally or socially, leading some towards movements advocating violence or authoritarian control.
Elites benefit from a divided America because it allows them to maintain power through strategic alliances with marginalized groups. Populist movements threaten elite power by uniting citizens against these divisions.
The book “Let Them Eat Tweets” discusses conservatives’ challenge in gaining popular support while protecting elite interests—a dilemma faced in garnering votes without alienating powerful constituents.
Finally, White Christian Nationalism’s narrative overlooks its complicity in historical racial injustices while glorifying an idealized past rooted in biblical principles. Strong group identities often ignore their negative impacts but focusing solely on positive aspects can perpetuate ignorance about systemic issues both historically and currently.
The text discusses the complexities of political and cultural identities, emphasizing that different systems work for different societies at various times. It touches on the adaptability required in response to perceived threats and how this can lead to polarization or unity depending on circumstances. The author references Jonathan Haidt’s work on polarization and his metaphor of an asteroid threatening Earth, suggesting that crises like COVID-19 should bring people together but often do not.
The discussion shifts to American politics, particularly White Christian Nationalism, which is seen as a threat by some due to its influence over institutions like academia, the military, and corporations. There are concerns about authoritarian tendencies being accepted when they align with one’s own views during emergencies.
The concept of niche construction is introduced as a natural phenomenon where organisms modify their environments for better survival prospects. This idea is paralleled with Christian Nationalists’ efforts to shape American society according to their values through legislation and cultural influence.
In conclusion, the text argues that just as animals build habitats for themselves, groups like Christian Nationalists aim to create a societal niche that benefits them while potentially disadvantaging others.
He argued that niche construction and ecological inheritance are key evolutionary processes, a concept also seen in American Christian nationalism. However, I avoid labeling individuals as ‘Christian nationalists’ because such terms aren’t constructive.
Niche construction refers to how organisms alter their environments to benefit themselves through natural selection. Take lactose intolerance: most people globally can’t digest milk after infancy due to the lack of lactase enzyme production. Yet, in areas like Northern Europe where milk was vital for survival during famines, a mutation allowing adults to digest milk offered an advantage and thus spread. Consequently, these regions have lower rates of lactose intolerance compared to places like North Africa and Asia.
Our actions influence our own evolution; what we do today shapes our DNA tomorrow. Despite enthusiasm for revolutionary changes in evolutionary biology, niche construction fits within established theory without causing upheaval.
Evolutionary biology often feels beyond personal control since we can’t change our DNA as easily as improving our bodies or minds through exercise or education. We’re drawn to ideas suggesting we can affect our genetics despite this limitation.
I’ll discuss niche construction further another time—signing off for Shavuot.
Posted inAmerica|Comments Off on Decoding Masculinity (6-11-24)
“Problematic” is a favorite word among academics but they feel insulted and retreat into silence when you ask them to describe their hero system that renders so much of reality “problematic.” According to the Merriam_Webster dictionary, the third meaning of “problematic” is “having or showing attitudes (such as racial prejudice) or ideas (such as falsehoods) that are offensive, disturbing, or harmful.”
The Google NGram viewer shows that books didn’t use “problematic” much until the 1960s.
Similarly, the Google NGram viewer shows that books didn’t use “racist” much until the 1960s.
Racism is a made up moral category that had no currency until the 1960s. Somehow all the great moral thinkers throughout history prior to the 20th Century had no concern about this great evil.
If academics had the strength of their convictions and weren’t afraid of owning up to having a subjective partisan hero system just like everyone else, they’d just say “bad.” But talking about good and bad sounds Christian, so academics pretend to have transcended partisan hero systems, which is impossible.
When academics won’t admit distress because their subjective hero system has been violated, what do they do? As human beings, they must lash out at an offense, but they won’t fight back in a way that is true, raw and vulnerable (a la how American conservatives do when somebody desecrates their nation’s flag), so instead they subjugate their impulses to reference good and evil, and instead employ the careful language of the courtier cocooned in his buffered identity.
* Rosenzweig’s goal is extremely problematic because it is based on a series of essentialisms that emerge from a particularist rhetoric…
* …the juxtaposition of “Judaism” and “philosophy” is highly problematic, used as it is to serve potentially ideological or political ends.
* …Rosenzweig’s woefully inaccurate understanding and representation of Islam is based on his need to have a foil for his equally problematic and racially charged reading of Judaism.
* Rosenzweig’s essentialist characterization of Judaism and the Jewish people inscribes both with a set of highly problematic traits grounded in racial and nationalistic
politics.
* …Maimonides and Rosenzweig—now seen as symbols for medieval and modern Jewish philosophy, respectively— succeed in creating authoritarian Judaisms based on a self-constructed rhetoric of authenticity and what amounts to a rather problematic reification of Jewish peoplehood.
* I suggest that such responses are not “authentic” precisely because authenticity is such a problematic term, one that is always just out of reach and is always constructed. Yet, problematically, Jewish philosophy—throughout its long and winding history—has been and continues to be invested in manufacturing such an authentically Jewish response.
If Professor Hughes sees the problems cited above, why doesn’t he just state the exact nature of the problem instead of resorting to euphemism? I emailed him about his love of the word “problematic”, but I didn’t get a response.
Why is the word “problematic” so commonly used by those on the political left?
It’s a strange word that I don’t really understand. It’s it’s always felt like a bit of a weasel word to me. I feel like there is always a more assertive and clear way to rephrase the statement.
I’ve spent about half my life in rural America and the other half in NYC and have many friends and family in both places. But I’ve never heard someone from the right describe something as “problematic”. I feel like it’s a word that has only come into use in the past decade or so and I’ve always cringed when I hear it used.
When I hear someone call a persons behavior “problematic”, it feels passive aggressive and vague. It’s like something a risk averse middle manager in a giant corporation would say.
* Because it’s more nuanced than good or bad. Let’s say someone says something mildly insensitive to you about a race, gender, or ability. You don’t want to ignore the comment. You could say “that’s bigoted” but that has a way of turning it onto a confrontation and makes the other person feels stupid and therefore disengage. Explaining that it’s problematic though let’s them know you don’t like why they said without judging them as a person and opens up for more dialog or clarification.
* The whole point of that word that it focuses on a behavior without framing the entire thing/person as a problem. It’s particularly applicable when describing things for which sensibilities have changed. For example, I was talking to a friend about Looney Toones cartoons from the 60s the other day. I was raised on those and I think they’re funny. But there is some insensitive shit in those old cartoons that was cool then, but not cool now. You could say, “those old cartoons are racist”, or you could say, “elements of them are problematic.”
* It’s used by people who understand that these humans and their behavior are complex and people and things aren’t one thing. It facilitates the conversation to have it in a way that is more nuanced.
* “Problematic” is rooted in social criticism and that project is popular with the academic left.
Language is a social construct and it partly signals our influences and social cues. By using language popular with a group, you signal an affinity and in-group association.
Its a gentler word and more indirect way of saying something is a problem, or bad, or wrong.
Gentler and indirect language can be a signal for either empathy or low self-confidence.
Women tend to have more empathy and less self-confidence on average compared to men.
Women also tend, on average, to be politically more left leaning than men.
Political affiliations have cultural and social group associations.
Putting it all together, “problematic” was popularized as a choice word for left wing social criticism because it appeals to sensibilities of critics and their audiences, and signals cultural group membership.
* It literally means that the subject of the sentence causes problems. And those problems may be complicated. I think its a great word to describe complex issues. Problems often have many facets to them.
* The notion of something being ‘problematic’ in discourse probably goes back to post-structuralism (“post-modernist”philosophers such as Foucault, Spivak, Said, etc.).
In the wake of such analysts—who showed how our structures of power influence what we consider to be knowledge (or truth)—we grew more conscious of how our language reinforces arbitrary, contingent (and usually unjust) power dynamics in society.
So, a movement derided as ‘political correctness’ seeks to undo or reorient the power dynamics by changing the language used in discourse. Problematic labels such as ‘The handicapped’ or ‘disabled’ become ‘people with disabilities’ or ‘the differently abled’ because defining a group of people by the abstract label society ascribes to it reinforces the implicit ‘othering’ (and ‘degrading’) of such labels.
If a person, like Kevin Spacey or ‘Cara Dune’ or Roman Polanski, are described as ‘problematic,’ it is because supporting those people would also reinforce implicitly a condoning (or elevating) of what they ‘stand for’ in the discourse. Platforming a problematic person does the same, according to this analysis.
However, as the author Yascha Mounck argued in his recent book those same post-structuralists were ambivalent about such strategies politically, since controlling the discourse is just what Power does, so PC prescriptions are exercises in using ‘knowledge as power,’ and this might lead to the backlash against the ‘authoritarian’ prescription of norms and behavior, seen in ‘cancel culture,’ ‘deplatforming’ endeavors, and self-censoring and protest culture on college campuses.
* Four syllables. May be tricky to spell. Good and Bad are so much easier.
…the word problematic functions not as an opening into these deeper questions, but as a buzzy shortcut. It can allow the speaker to leave out the most critical arguments the audience needs to hear.
Various riffs on “that’s problematic” abound in edited, formal publications. A couple months ago, NPR deemed the colonial imagery in Taylor Swift’s “Wildest Dreams” music video “beyond problematic.” Slate has used the word at least a half-dozen times, and more than once in a headline. At the satirical Tumblr “Everything Is a Problem,” the author promises to “dispense problematics” on any subject or text readers send her way, offering a few lines of righteous indignation before rating different texts on a “problem” scale from one to five. A post about the puritanical, infighting tendencies of the left had the title “Entire Human Race Problematic—Left Can’t Work With Them.” Glancing through #problematic on Twitter suggests these satirists aren’t so far off. Sample tweets include “forgot how #problematic Ace Ventura is” and “Being #WOKE when 99.9% of the planet is a #PROBLEMATIC mess is exhausting. Honestly.”
Though some seem to take issue with the word’s implied political correctness or hypercritical attitude (see also: “-splaining” and the gender-neutral, singular “they”), the real weakness of problematic is that it is misleading and vague. Problematic—“constituting or presenting a problem or difficulty; difficult to resolve; doubtful, uncertain, questionable”—doesn’t actually capture the speaker’s complaint, which is about harm, not difficulty or uncertainty. The speaker is trying to suggest that something in the text constitutes a moral wrong. But problematic undercuts that critique by reframing the issue as a riddle to be unraveled.
The Oxford English Dictionary points to a problematic, as “A thing that constitutes a problem or an area of difficulty, esp. in a particular field of study.” This kind of problematizing is at the heart of academic inquiry—a collective recognition of the best theories and concepts the field currently offers, and then through research or argument or both, working within and around that best-established knowledge to account for things the field currently cannot. But when people don’t come to a discussion with the same understanding of the best theories of the field, or in the case of pop culture, a shared sense of what makes something offensive and what makes it morally and politically sound, calling something problematic seems to miss the point of argument. Instead of convincing someone a particular idea is a bad one, the arguments that follow “that’s problematic” tend to merely point out that the text contains an idea thought to be bad.
In the classroom, some of my most passionate students lean on the phrase when they take issue with a course reading or something insensitive a classmate said. The initially amorphous critique becomes a great place for me to open up discussion, to push the student to articulate his or her problem with something for a diverse crowd of thinkers. “What exactly did you think was wrong with what was said?” I might ask.
But in written work and in the social-media world of quick tweets and posts, “that’s problematic,” is far more unilateral, and far more of a rhetorical device than a dialogue starter. The phrase creates distance between the critic and the argument, placing the problem—racism, sexism, homophobia, etc.—in the text itself, rather than accounting for the subjective reasons the critic can see the harm the text is doing. Calling a text problematic erases the ways in which it interacts with readers’ own politics and experiences to produce its “problem.” We don’t get the full picture of harm done when a person of color watches a show about white people appropriating black culture, for instance. Social and cultural critique are only strengthened when the audience understands how the critic came to see something they missed.
Academics like me love to describe things as “problematic.” But what do we mean? We’re not saying that the thing in question is unsolvable or even difficult. We’re saying—or implying—that it is objectionable in some way, that it rests uneasily with our prior moral or political commitments.
For instance, when I described applying Ancient Greek free-speech ideals to social media as “problematic” in a recent article, I wasn’t saying that Socrates’s audience was impossible to please. I was saying that these practices were premised on exclusion in a way that modern egalitarians won’t like. Or when my Oxford colleague Amia Srinivasan describes stand-up comedy in Los Angeles as “problematic,” she’s not saying that she struggled to understand the jokes. She’s saying that they relied on sexism in a way that she—and everyone—should find morally bad.
In principle, every usage of the term problematic should be followed by an explanation. Is the situation or person in question unjust, immoral, or unfair? Racist, sexist, or otherwise bigoted? Wrongheaded, perhaps, or just plain wrong? All too often, the explanation never comes.
This is why the ethos of disengaged self-control and self-reflexivity would have been inconceivable for pre-moderns. The latter were not “buffered,” and this is why they could not have “stepped back” from their total teleological immersion into naturalistic lucidity. The anthropocentricity of pre-moderns was in the first instance a function, not of limited knowledge, but of their particular form of agency—the nature of the boundary, or lack thereof, between self and world. The crucial difference between moderns and pre-moderns is not that the former, unlike the latter, believe that their mental states originate in a physiological substratum interacting with the rest of the physical world (producing either “delight” or “annoyance” as Hobbes says), but that the former, unlike the latter, have a form of consciousness and identity within which this proposition is intelligible in the first place. A pre-modern couldn’t seriously contemplate the thought that “it just feels this way,” not because he was ignorant of his feelings’ causal springs, but because he was porous rather than buffered, because his basic, pre-theoretical experience of the world did not permit any clear-cut distinctions between the inner and the outer, between how things feel and how they are. This is a difference, not of beliefs, but of the pre-deliberative disposition to “distance” from one’s pre-reflective, pre-theorized layer of experience…
"This guy knows all the gossip, the ins and outs, the lashon hara of the Orthodox world. He’s an [expert] in... all the inner workings of the Orthodox world." (Rabbi Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff)
