Berman traza una nítida línea entre los principios fundacionales de la gran superpotencia, los Estados Unidos, y su acelerada trayectoria descendente; demuestra con contundencia que el deseo expansionista estaba contenido desde sus orígenes en la visión de la incipiente nación como pueblo elegido, llamado a guiar al mundo entero hacia un estilo de vida el suyo. Al mismo tiempo, Berman cuestiona la universalidad de la idea de progreso material, considerando que es siempre una respuesta al vacío inherente a la condición humana, que no hace sino ensancharse conforme trata de ser llenado con juguetes tecnológicos.
Distinguished cultural historian and social critic Morris Berman has spent many years exploring the corrosion of American society and the decline of the American empire. He is the author of the critically acclaimed works The Twilight of American Culture, a New York Times Book Review "Notable Book," and Dark Ages America."
Morris Berman nos presenta en una compilación de ensayos críticos de la sociedad contemporánea que, si bien ofrece reflexiones valiosas, termina por caer en generalizaciones y un pesimismo que limita su potencial. El libro plantea una tesis interesante: la crisis actual de valores en Occidente está íntimamente ligada a nuestro modelo económico y cultural, generando una sociedad cada vez más vacía y desconectada de lo esencial. Sin embargo, lo que comienza como una prometedora crítica sociocultural termina convertido en un catálogo de quejas sin suficiente profundidad analítica o propuestas concretas.
Berman acierta al identificar problemas reales de nuestra época, es decir, el consumismo desenfrenado, la pérdida de sentido comunitario, la superficialidad de las relaciones en la era digital y la mercantilización de todos los aspectos de la vida. Sus observaciones sobre cómo el capitalismo ha erosionado los valores sociales son certeras y, en muchos casos, dolorosamente precisas. El capítulo dedicado a analizar cómo hemos convertido el ocio en otra forma de consumo es particularmente revelador, mostrando con claridad cómo incluso nuestros momentos de descanso han sido invadidos por la lógica del mercado libre.
El problema principal del libro radica en su tono catastrófico y su tendencia a idealizar el pasado. Berman parece creer que todo era mejor en el pasado, cayendo en una nostalgia que no reconoce los avances tecnológicos y sociales de las últimas décadas ni las contradicciones de esas épocas supuestamente doradas. Esta visión romántica de la historia termina por debilitar su argumentación, ya que en lugar de ofrecer un análisis profundo, opta por un discurso superficial que divide el mundo entre un pasado virtuoso y un presente decadente.
Otro aspecto cuestionable es la falta de propuestas realistas. Si bien el diagnóstico es en muchos puntos acertado, Berman no logra trascender la mera crítica para sugerir caminos alternativos viables. Cuando intenta proponer soluciones, estas suelen reducirse a vagas apelaciones a "recuperar los valores perdidos" sin especificar cómo hacerlo en el contexto actual o qué valores exactamente merecen la pena rescatar. Esta carencia de perspectiva pragmática hace que el libro termine siendo una larga lista más de problemas que una guía para superarlos.
En términos educativos, el texto es accesible y está salpicado de ejemplos que ilustran sus puntos, lo que lo hace interesante de leer. Sin embargo, en ocasiones cae en repeticiones innecesarias (constantemente menciona a Proust) y en un tono sermoneador que puede resultar cansado y confuso (en un ensayo promueve el budismo pero en otro lo crítica). Además, sus constantes referencias a la cultura estadounidense limitan a cualquier lector que provenga de otros contextos culturales, dando por sentado que lo que sucede en Estados Unidos es igualmente válido para el resto del mundo.
"Cuestión de Valores" es un libro que sin duda puede hacer reflexionar al lector sobre los problemas actuales en la sociedad, pero que se queda a mitad de camino. Funciona bien como exámen superficial de algunos males contemporáneos, pero falla al no profundizar su análisis y al no ofrecer alternativas prácticas. Recomendado para quienes busquen una introducción a la Izquierda Libertaria.
While I agree with many of Berman's critiques of the U.S. empire, economic system, and contemporary culture, this book was nearly unbearable to read. I could only get through it because of my own horrible desire to laugh at the author's flagrant lack of self-awareness (also known as 'hate-reading').
While there's plenty to pick apart here, what struck me as most ironic about Berman's book is his near-constant use of self-deprecating anecdotes as proofs for broad social ills. For example: he has no friends in the U.S. who would know if he died, therefore the U.S. is a lonely, despicable place. No one would publish his book, so the publishing industry is greedy and corrupt. He doesn't like cell phones, therefore indigenous Mayans use of cellphones is a form of corruption. There are too many examples of this to list. I have to wonder if Berman has ever stopped to ask himself whether, perhaps, he has no friends because he's a miserable person. Could it be that his book was not published because it's just not that good?
The overall result of this anecdotal tendency is not a book of personal exploration (which I could dig), but a book of gripes, of lonely, desperate anger, of an old man complaining about the "chic" kids and their habits. Sure, he might be right in some ways, but who in the hell wants to listen?
It's particularly startling because so much of his analysis of the U.S. is about its individualism, lack of empathy, lack of vision, about its egoism and sense of self importance. How does Berman not see that he is, perhaps, the best example of U.S. culture's ability to replicate itself in form (aggressive, self-centered, egotistical) even when it allows for a slight, but ultimately nonthreatening, deviation of content (writing a manifesto against empire)?
Could this be a revelatory book for a 15 year-old white boy who lives in the suburbs? Sure. Could it spark some sense of rebellion in a dejected middle-aged worker? Perhaps. But it offers us no where to turn, nothing positive or even beautiful to hold onto. Reading this book feels like getting lost one late night on the back pages of the internet: there's plenty of content there, some of it even valid, but I'm left feeling sadder, and emptier, than I did when I started.
Su crítica puntual y argumentativa contra la cultura de los EE.UU. me ha convencido de que como guatemaltecos nos hemos dejado influir como borregos. Por otro lado, su crítica no es sólo hacia la sociedad norteamericana per se, sino que también hacia los individuos en particular que conforman la sociedad como un todo. De esta forma puntualiza en la responsabilidad de nuestras decisiones y de la coherencia de lo que decimos con lo que hacemos, en lo insondable que es lo desconocido que forma parte intrínseca de nuestra experiencia humana pero también expone la necesaria búsqueda del "inner self" a través de los autores que cita para fundamentar sus ideas. A pesar de que no he leído nada más de Berman, A Question of Values me parece un texto genial.
Voices In The Wilderness: (A review of, A Question of Values, a collection of essays by Morris Berman).
...Of all sad words of tongue, or pen, The saddest are, "It might have been."
-John Greenleaf Whittier
In A Question of Values, Morris Berman presents one of the most articulate voices lamenting the breakdown of civilized society, in America, in the 21st century. In his introduction, explaining why he left the United States for Mexico in 2006, Berman says... "In substance, America [under Barack Obama] is still dominated by corporate and military values; by a pathetic philosophy of "We're No. 1!"; and by a way of life that's aggressive and competitive to it's very roots." These are the words of one with the courage to face the reality of our lives today, and the honesty to chronicle what he makes of that reality.
If these things of Barack Obama, the celebrated banker's clerk, who as Mr. Berman accurately points out started his populist bid for the presidency with a 750 million dollar war chest provided by investment bankers, then they've become a pathology under Donald Trump.
I'd like to interject here that I see Mr. Berman as a patriot of the highest order. It takes great courage and love of one's country to sound the alarm when one sees their country barreling headlong toward self-destruction, especially when they know they'll get nothing from their effort, but the knowledge they've done the right thing - when they know they'll be ignored or hated for their pains.
Such people are the unsung voices in the wilderness who keep a society sane, who keep it grounded in reality. The vastly more common kind of blind patriotism, that wears its heart on its sleeve, is generally either a mere expression of unsophistication, or worse, in the words of H.L. Menken, the last refuge of a scoundrel.
I concur with Mr. Berman's assessment that society is in decay. During the Clinton Administration I decided to leave the mainland U.S. for the Island of Hawaii for the same reasons, a decision I've never regretted. I felt also, as Mr. Berman goes on to say, that "America... had no heart; it was a callous place, with a death instinct hanging over it like a huge dark cloud. . . The place, in a word, was and is toxic; it is making its citizens ill both physically and spiritually; it is a place from which the human dimension of life has largely been purged."
Powerful words. The ring of truth in them could bring tears to my eyes for my lost country - for what it was, and for what it might have been.
The essays in A Question of Values are divided into four parts: 1. Lament for America: 2. Mind and Body: 3. Progress, True and False: and 4. Quo Vadis. Together they present an eclectic look at our society from the approaches indicated under the subheadings. The first part, Lament for America, I found to be the best. It is, I think, essential reading for those willing to take an objective look at our society; and in these essays Mr. Berman frames our central conundrum as he sees it, which is, in fact, our inability to see ourselves objectively. (1) We are, in Berman's view, the victims of our own national myths, and of the fact that we've defined ourselves largely in terms of what we oppose, rather than what we strive to be. As a result, we're unable see ourselves, and are doomed to stride forth blindly down a road of self-deception that can only lead to self-destruction.
1. Please note: I am aware of the irony in the paragraph. The irony being that, If only those who are willing to see themselves objectively are willing to read his work, then what hope does the majority unwilling to see themselves objectively, of knowing that where America is going wrong is in it's inability to see itself objectively. This is, in fact, exactly the problem!
I first discovered Morris Berman's work back in the '90s, with The Reenchantment of the World and Coming to Our Senses. It was rather influential on my thinking, especially when working on Werewolf: the Apocalypse. Years later, when I read his Twilight of American Culture, I was sympathetic to his viewpoint but felt it was, well, strident and overly alarmist. By the time his Dark Ages America came around, I begrudgingly had to agree with his assessment, but I had trouble finishing the book; the darkening times were hard enough to live through without rubbing it in. Now, I wonder why there aren't enough other people clued into Berman's viewpoint.
A Question of Values consists of essays he's written for mostly Spanish-language sources. (They're in English here.) These are critiques that range across politics, history, economics, social sciences and literature. Berman turns his incredibly well-read eye to our modern situation and explain why we're so screwed. That's the easy part. The hard part is the realization, built up over multiple arguments about the structural problems of our culture and economy, that we won't fix it. I won't reiterate the argument here; you can read the book or dip into his blog to get it. Suffice it to say that I agree, and yet… I hold out hope, that crazyiest, most perplexing trait of Americans. Hope that somehow we’ll turn course at the last minute. Berman makes it clear how that's just not going to cut it, but I still look to the horizon for the white horse. And if it doesn’t come, well, I'll just have to read Berman's new work of fiction, Destiny, to while away the wait.
The problem Berman wrestles with here -- why we won't fix our problems even when we're made aware of them -- is one I've struggled with for a while now, especially after reading Douglas Rushkoff's Life, Inc. It's full of interesting ideas on how our situation is no accident -- it was engineered once upon a time, although we've forgotten that and mistake it as natural law. And yet, despite Rushkoff's hope that we can hack or reprogram our society, it doesn't happen. But people (like me) still cling to the idea that, with the right argument, the spell will be broken. Berman makes it clear that the spell is too well-wrought; it won't be broken with a kiss. Jung's answer was individuation. But that's not a program for society or institutions. We remain stubbornly resistant, as a society, to escaping the pull of the drain.
If you don’t like having your bubble burst, stay away. If you like well-argued ideas, mixed with personal anecdotes to enliven them, then give A Question of Values a read.
I wish I could give this one a better rating but I really can't. Although Morris Berman is more sensible than the vast majority of other writers out there, I honestly didn't see much point in reading this. Anyone who would like it will already be familiar with the good ideas in here, and anyone who isn't familiar with these ideas isn't going to be persuaded by his presentation of them. Even agreeing with his general sentiment about "progress", technology, growth, living in a "me first" society, etc. I found his explanations way too simplified and sometimes even flawed. He also has sort of a defeatist attitude regarding change, which contributes greatly to the pointlessness of this book. Instead of proposing alternatives to the things he complains about he just says to expect things to keep getting worse because no one will listen (so why write a book, man!?). I generally have no problem with pessimism. People should be afraid right now but there's a big difference between saying we're PROBABLY fucked and saying that society won't change until things get so bad that it has to change (most likely too late). Kind of reminded me of John Gray at times, who he actually mentions in one chapter, with his sort of anti-utopian attitude (as if any alternative is just wishful thinking). Also reminiscent of Gray is how he shows concern for the modern world while still being too cultured to follow his own logic when it comes to the "great" works of literature, art, architecture, etc. Why should anyone be ridiculed for not being familiar with every culture on the planet's customs or every stupid Shakespeare play or ancient Greek statue? And why, like so many other writers, do you need to summarize the views of people like Freud and Plato before giving any of your own opinions. Who cares? When else in history have even the smartest known as much trivial crap as what the typical cashier is expected to know now? And how much of the modern nightmare can we get rid of and still be able to produce so much recorded information, and share it so widely? I just don't get how so many people miss these inconsistencies. Too educated for their own good maybe.
Berman occupies the terrain of American critic. He looks at an America that is post-empire and fading fast. This view pisses people off, especially the moronic majority that Berman castigates in this book. A Question of Values follows The Twilight of American Culture (2001) and Dark Ages of America(2004) in that similar vein of casting a view about America that counters this constant backslapping that Americans do, knowing little about how absolutely fucked up we are as a nation.
Obviously, I'm a fan of Berman. Others will probably be pissed off reading his take on America and the dead end that is American Exceptionalism.
This book roots our problems deeply in our culture going back to the Pilgrims and New England. I found this the most intriguing part of the book.
I gave it one less star than I would of due to Mr. Berman's self-publication (due to not having this picked up by a major publisher) and there were a few formatting issues with the text that I didn't like.
I recommend the book for anyone that is interested in why Americans have such a high opinion of themselves and wants to know more about the culture driving the American empire.