Sorry to throw all this at you...
Discus Thrower, c. 450 BC.
Whether we're exposing local K-12 schools' performance, BART's ill-advised extension, or traditional media's blind spots—tech expert Mike Pepi exhorts, below, that we embrace a more direct, weighty, "muscular criticism." Just like in ancient Greek Palestras. From Heavy Machinery blog.
The problem with criticism is it's too weak. It needs to get stronger. Criticism got flabby. It's out of shape. It’s skinny-fat from too much Doordash. Most of all what it lacks is discipline. Why did we let this happen? Why did we embrace this frailty and equivocation? Now is not the time.
Where could we look for inspiration? In ancient Greece, every town had a gymnasium. The ancients didn’t have our post-enlightenment duality between body and mind. The gym wasn’t for meat heads, it was for every head. In fact you could even say it was a site of intellectual exchange. It’s where discourse happened. Is it where the humanities were born? For once, it wasn’t about the Gods. It was about us. Every gym had a smaller, more focused section called the Palestra. It’s where the boxers and wrestlers trained. It wasn’t public. It wasn’t where the shows happened. But it was where much grueling work got done.
This was a time when aesthetics wasn’t all that much separated from the body, either. Witnessing the human body flourish in its purpose was the height of what we today call art. Again, the work for the bloodsports was among the most beautiful thing that could be expressed. And we know it wasn’t all that natural either. There isn’t anything economically productive about the training in the Palestra. It wasn’t farming or fighting or even building. It was art for arts sake, discourse for discourse’s sake. For a few, it was likely their idea what held all of civilization together. We can’t really know how democratic it was, apart from the fact that the Greeks more or less invented the concept. Yes, elites probably ruled the roost, but the Palestra was a place where merit, sometimes brutally, could win the day.
Criticism should have winners and losers. This is part of a competition that, while recreational, provides a larger sense of purpose. Did we stray too far into the wilderness, where criticism exists as background music, or worse the auditory accompaniment of a process outside of our control? Like a babbling brook or the snapping of a pine branch in a far away grove. How could that offend? Who wants to wrestle with a sunset or a sunrise. Did we settle into a bit of a routine and forget what we were fighting for?
We need a muscular criticism. We need to get serious. Serious like our lives depend on it. We need a discourse that is worthy of the name. It needs more focus. It needs more pride. It shouldn't be afraid. It should speak out with its chest front and center. It shouldn't whisper behind closed doors. Criticism shouldn’t ask for permission. It shouldn’t even ask for forgiveness. It’s time to get a little aggressive. Criticism needs to stick its neck out. Criticism should be a balance between offense and defense. But it shouldn’t shy away from a fight.
Criticism needs to hit the gym, or to be more precise, it needs a palestra.
Read the whole thing here.
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