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A review by jryanlonas
The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self: Cultural Amnesia, Expressive Individualism, and the Road to Sexual Revolution by Carl R. Trueman
3.0
This is a greatly hyped book at present, and others more qualified than me have done plenty of engagement already, so, though this is longer than my typical 1-liner goodreads summaries, it is by no means a full or academic review.
Where this book is good, it is very good. As an intellectual history of the rise of expressive individualism (Charles Taylor's phrase) from Rousseau to Obergefell, it traces of streams of thought through Romanticism, Marx, Darwin, Nietzsche, Freud, and the Frankfurt School. As a parallel history of the rise of "deathworks" and "anticulture" (Philip Rieff's terms), it does a good job of connecting the dots through those same streams to show how the destruction of social and sexual norms (rather than building toward a common good) came to be seen as the key to a liberated, flourishing society by many on the political left. In this, he provides a deep and wide context for the sexual revolution of the second half of the 20th century, helping us see quite clearly that it did not spring up de novo in the 1960s—as casual narratives about "the good old days" are wont to assume—but is a long, slow confluence of many cultural influences.
These threads of inquiry are familiar to me, thanks to a worldview-heavy curriculum in my undergraduate education, but might be new to many. On this score, Trueman offers a good synopsis, engaging well with his chosen interlocutors (though those better versed in Marx, Freud, et al. might take issue with his survey-level discussion and the conclusions he draws). He is also (as I've said in comments on other of his works) a very fine writer, with expert command of the language. He also has a teacher's spirit, desiring to make what is dense and obscure interesting and graspable for readers.
Where the book is bad, though it feels not so much incorrect as incomplete. Trueman is very forward with his own caveat that he sees this project as prolegomena to a larger discussion on the modern self and its implications for the life and ministry of the church. He could have easily made this 400 page book into an 800-1000 page treatise and still have left much more to say. Further, he is a historian, and so some of my critiques have more to do with his failure to bring in insights from other disciplines than any failing in his given task as a historian. I offer these grains of salt with which to take my disagreements below.
At times, it feels as though the intellectual history Trueman presents—rather one-sided in tracing the development of expressive individualism and sexual identity—is meant to be taken as a more sweeping review of post-Enlightenment moral philosophy. But the history of the last 300 years is not a steady stream, but a turbulent river of points and counterpoints that push the channel both left and right at varying points. For every Rousseau there is a Kant or Burke. For every Shelley or Wordsworth there may be a Dickens, Thackeray, or Trollope. For Marxes, Darwins, and Nietszches, there are also Kuypers, Bavincks, and Chestertons. For a Riech or Marcuse, there is a Lewis or Buckley. Yes, there is ample evidence that the leftward bow of the riverbed is ascendant, but it has not been a uniform journey, nor is it guaranteed to continue apace. The absence of such historical countermovements in Trueman's narrative may strengthen the force of his argument, but leaving them out neglects to provide nuance that could help readers see what tools might be available to stem the tide he is so concerned about.
Further, He seems to treat this intellectual history as a sufficient explanation of the sexual revolution and the understanding of selfhood that makes it necessary. This follows a fairly standard academic conceit of privileging the life of the mind over other contributing factors (a habit of which I am also frequently guilty). That contemporaneous developments such as the industrial revolution, scientific revolution, world wars, economic upheavals, and globalization barely register in his narrative is frustrating. Most people do not think first and then act, but rather the reverse. However frustrating or unwise this habit may be, it is the lay of the land. To assume that the rank and file of humanity have been moved to action by the musings of philosophers and academics does not speak to a deep understanding of human behavior—even granting his point that the influence of such thinkers on the creators of pop culture artifacts is a major means of their influence.
Trueman's focus (following Rieff) on the triumph of the therapeutic as a negative social development leads him to ignore many of the glaring social realities that led to the need for more therapeutic constructs in the first place. To be sure, assuming that no one should be required to feel unhappy or unfulfilled at any point is no realistic basis for cultivating healthy social contracts in a fallen world. To deny that human happiness is a good (among many) that ought to be taken into consideration is equally a fool's errand. Trueman at times seems too quick to dismiss real human suffering under this rubric, assuming that gracious accommodation of people's brokenness is a dangerous slippery slope. Engagement with findings of trauma-informed psychology and neurobiology might have tempered some of his stridency here.
I'll concede that I've majored on criticisms out of a degree of fear. I do hope that the book finds a wide readership, as its strengths are real and disagreements with its premises that rise to its same level of erudition and eloquence would go far to raise discourse about complex and difficult topics out of our present mire of sound bites and hot takes. As Trueman's desired prolegomenon for deeper discussion on the issues he addresses and a healthy response to them, it is a fine effort. I fear, though, that many in the church will use the book instead as an open-and-shut case to prove that anyone who seeks to extend hospitality and grace to those with whom they disagree, advocate for political reform in favor of marginalized groups, seek justice for the oppressed, or ameliorate suffering in the world is guilty of privileging the therapeutic or oversimplifying the world's complexity through the lens of some critical theory or other—no matter how much they lean on Scripture and a robust biblical anthropology to make their case. Indeed, Trueman himself falls into this trap in an article on evangelicals and critical race theory in First Things.
In the spirit in which the book is offered, I too would welcome engagement on my critique.
Where this book is good, it is very good. As an intellectual history of the rise of expressive individualism (Charles Taylor's phrase) from Rousseau to Obergefell, it traces of streams of thought through Romanticism, Marx, Darwin, Nietzsche, Freud, and the Frankfurt School. As a parallel history of the rise of "deathworks" and "anticulture" (Philip Rieff's terms), it does a good job of connecting the dots through those same streams to show how the destruction of social and sexual norms (rather than building toward a common good) came to be seen as the key to a liberated, flourishing society by many on the political left. In this, he provides a deep and wide context for the sexual revolution of the second half of the 20th century, helping us see quite clearly that it did not spring up de novo in the 1960s—as casual narratives about "the good old days" are wont to assume—but is a long, slow confluence of many cultural influences.
These threads of inquiry are familiar to me, thanks to a worldview-heavy curriculum in my undergraduate education, but might be new to many. On this score, Trueman offers a good synopsis, engaging well with his chosen interlocutors (though those better versed in Marx, Freud, et al. might take issue with his survey-level discussion and the conclusions he draws). He is also (as I've said in comments on other of his works) a very fine writer, with expert command of the language. He also has a teacher's spirit, desiring to make what is dense and obscure interesting and graspable for readers.
Where the book is bad, though it feels not so much incorrect as incomplete. Trueman is very forward with his own caveat that he sees this project as prolegomena to a larger discussion on the modern self and its implications for the life and ministry of the church. He could have easily made this 400 page book into an 800-1000 page treatise and still have left much more to say. Further, he is a historian, and so some of my critiques have more to do with his failure to bring in insights from other disciplines than any failing in his given task as a historian. I offer these grains of salt with which to take my disagreements below.
At times, it feels as though the intellectual history Trueman presents—rather one-sided in tracing the development of expressive individualism and sexual identity—is meant to be taken as a more sweeping review of post-Enlightenment moral philosophy. But the history of the last 300 years is not a steady stream, but a turbulent river of points and counterpoints that push the channel both left and right at varying points. For every Rousseau there is a Kant or Burke. For every Shelley or Wordsworth there may be a Dickens, Thackeray, or Trollope. For Marxes, Darwins, and Nietszches, there are also Kuypers, Bavincks, and Chestertons. For a Riech or Marcuse, there is a Lewis or Buckley. Yes, there is ample evidence that the leftward bow of the riverbed is ascendant, but it has not been a uniform journey, nor is it guaranteed to continue apace. The absence of such historical countermovements in Trueman's narrative may strengthen the force of his argument, but leaving them out neglects to provide nuance that could help readers see what tools might be available to stem the tide he is so concerned about.
Further, He seems to treat this intellectual history as a sufficient explanation of the sexual revolution and the understanding of selfhood that makes it necessary. This follows a fairly standard academic conceit of privileging the life of the mind over other contributing factors (a habit of which I am also frequently guilty). That contemporaneous developments such as the industrial revolution, scientific revolution, world wars, economic upheavals, and globalization barely register in his narrative is frustrating. Most people do not think first and then act, but rather the reverse. However frustrating or unwise this habit may be, it is the lay of the land. To assume that the rank and file of humanity have been moved to action by the musings of philosophers and academics does not speak to a deep understanding of human behavior—even granting his point that the influence of such thinkers on the creators of pop culture artifacts is a major means of their influence.
Trueman's focus (following Rieff) on the triumph of the therapeutic as a negative social development leads him to ignore many of the glaring social realities that led to the need for more therapeutic constructs in the first place. To be sure, assuming that no one should be required to feel unhappy or unfulfilled at any point is no realistic basis for cultivating healthy social contracts in a fallen world. To deny that human happiness is a good (among many) that ought to be taken into consideration is equally a fool's errand. Trueman at times seems too quick to dismiss real human suffering under this rubric, assuming that gracious accommodation of people's brokenness is a dangerous slippery slope. Engagement with findings of trauma-informed psychology and neurobiology might have tempered some of his stridency here.
I'll concede that I've majored on criticisms out of a degree of fear. I do hope that the book finds a wide readership, as its strengths are real and disagreements with its premises that rise to its same level of erudition and eloquence would go far to raise discourse about complex and difficult topics out of our present mire of sound bites and hot takes. As Trueman's desired prolegomenon for deeper discussion on the issues he addresses and a healthy response to them, it is a fine effort. I fear, though, that many in the church will use the book instead as an open-and-shut case to prove that anyone who seeks to extend hospitality and grace to those with whom they disagree, advocate for political reform in favor of marginalized groups, seek justice for the oppressed, or ameliorate suffering in the world is guilty of privileging the therapeutic or oversimplifying the world's complexity through the lens of some critical theory or other—no matter how much they lean on Scripture and a robust biblical anthropology to make their case. Indeed, Trueman himself falls into this trap in an article on evangelicals and critical race theory in First Things.
In the spirit in which the book is offered, I too would welcome engagement on my critique.