The Specter of Hypocrisy: Testing the

Limits of Moral Discourse Raphael

Sassower
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The Specter of Hypocrisy
Testing the Limits of Moral Discourse
Raphael Sassower
 The Specter of Hypocrisy

“When Mark Twain proposed that ‘[a] lie can travel half-way around the world
while the truth is putting on its shoes,’ he could never have contemplated
the internet age that has rendered discourse unmediated and unrestricted by
the boundaries of space and time. Raphael Sassower’s timely reflection on the
manifold complexity of hypocrisy could not be more necessary. This carefully
constructed argument’s consideration of the implication of falsehoods across
multiple registers of life is required reading.”
—Michael E. Sawyer, Colorado College, USA, and author of Black Minded: The
Political Philosophy of Malcolm X (2020)

“In our age of ‘phony news’ and of the ‘post-factual’, Raphael Sassower’s new
intervention is timely. In this book, he takes on the notion of hypocrisy as a
way not only to challenge the current political scene, but more importantly
and with more long-lasting reverberations, he challenges the borders of moral
philosophy themselves. The relationship between the moral and the hypocritical
are here explored, most interestingly between the Greek actor and the Hebrew
chameleon.”
—Suzanne Stewart-Steinberg, Director of the Pembroke Center for Teaching and
Research on Women and Professor of Italian Studies and Comparative Literature,
Brown University, USA

“Professor Sassower’s The Specter of Hypocrisy invites the reader to an intellec-

tual celebration. It presents the triumph of humane reasoning over its cynic
pretender. It is the most incisive study of one of the most disturbing psychosocial
phenomena of our post-truth Trumpian times. Sassower portrays the sad picture
of our current human condition as it appears on a global canvas writ large by the
American colossal failed response to the COVID-19 pandemic. A wake up call
it should be, Sassower says, or else. A society that has lost its compass, one that
mixes truth and fallacy, hypocrisy and integrity, irrevocably loses touch with reality
and destroys its own social matrix. The remedy he offers is a strong and hard one
to swallow. It cuts through all intellectual polarities serving the cultural myths
that populate our social, psychological, religious and political theories and prac-
tices. Sassower’s analysis of the problem situation is a tour de force. His mastery
and depth of research into psychological, psychoanalytic, social, moral, philo-
sophical, and religious theories that pertain to his subject matter is breathtaking.
Sassower’s style verges, at times, on the poetic and exceptionally transpires both
humane compassion and philosophical modesty. To mend our world, he says,
it is all about truth and truth telling—of friends to one another out of caring
about integrity and social bonds. No more posturing as friends, but owning up
to one’s friendship. Sassower offers us a new intellectual framework allowing
degrees of hypocrisy and their empathic truthful discussion. This way we may go
on searching for socially astute manipulative self-presentations without giving up
on our commitment to the honest quest for ever-improving levels of personal
and social integrity. The book is a must-read.”
—Nathaniel Laor, Professor Emeritus of Psychiatry and Philosophy, Tel Aviv
University, and Clinical Professor, Child Study Center, Yale University, USA

“If hypocrisy is the horse that has bolted from the barn in our post-truth condi-
tion, Raphael Sassower is the ‘horse whisperer’, trying to coax the creature back
to its paddock. While Trump has clearly galvanized Sassower into action, his
approach to hypocrisy is characteristically very wide-ranging and nuanced—and
not entirely unsympathetic. Regardless of what one ultimately makes of the perva-
siveness of hypocrisy in today’s society, this is the one book that takes it with the
seriousness it deserves.”
—Steve Fuller, University of Warwick, author of Post Truth: Knowledge as a
Power Game (2018)
 Raphael Sassower

The Specter
of Hypocrisy
Testing the Limits of Moral Discourse
Raphael Sassower
Department of Philosophy
University of Colorado
Colorado Springs, CO, USA

ISBN 978-3-030-60572-8 ISBN 978-3-030-60573-5 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-60573-5

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 Acknowledgments

I wish to thank Denise Davis of Brown University whose contribution

to my critical thinking about this topic has been profound; her careful
reading of the manuscript helped me clarify my points and avoid some
scholarly pitfalls. I am responsible for the remaining flaws. My friends and
colleagues, Natti Laor, Jonathan Lee, Adi Ophir, and Michael Sawyer,
offered feedback and valuable insights on earlier drafts as well as moral
support during the project. I should like to thank as well the two anony-
mous reviewers who read my original proposal and offered useful advice.
I am grateful to Suzanne Stewart-Steinberg who welcomed me to her
seminar on Critique at the Pembroke Center at Brown University; this
was a source of inspiration in the spring of 2020, a time when I was
on sabbatical leave from my university. In the past, I have thanked my
university tongue-in-cheek for staying out of my intellectual way; now I
wish to thank it for still honoring its tenure and sabbatical leave policies.
I sincerely hope this tradition of supporting faculty research will continue
in future generations despite neoliberal pressures.

v
 Introduction

A specter is haunting America, the specter of hypocrisy. This is not a pious

lamentation over the loss of civil decorum associated with conduct that
fails to meet moral standards or a blithe avowal of the inevitability of
messy human interactions. Instead, the specter of hypocrisy haunts in the
form of the charge of hypocrisy in the social and political domains. Calling
someone a hypocrite is at once a charge and a judgment with presump-
tions about the criteria that inform this charge. The person who makes
the charge appeals to moral values and virtues even when the contexts
are social and political. Of course, the charging person can be charged
in turn for their hypocrisy in an infinite regress. Being charged, a person
is expected to reflect on values and virtues undergirding the community
to which they belong, admitting failure if that is the case and a promise
of correction. The charge of hypocrisy, when it is answered, can only be
answered in a moral register, bringing to light and perhaps demanding a
response even from the likes of President Trump, who may shrug with
indifference, a register that appeals to moral norms rather than to social
or political expediency. This appeal transcends contractual relationships,
the rules of the legal system, or good manners and civility. As much as we
distinguish between the spirit and the letter of the law, so must we distin-
guish between the social contract writ large and the moral commitments
that underlie it and without which such a contract remains procedural
and instrumental. Neither social relations nor political systems and insti-
tutions can refrain from acknowledging their reliance on moral principles.

vii
viii INTRODUCTION

The charge of hypocrisy directs attention to these principles without

ceding the social or political stage to religious zealots or moralizing
fundamentalists.
The conversations about the charge hypocrisy examined here recall
Nietzsche’s genealogy of morals that considers moral conventions and
norms in terms of their historical power relations rather than in terms
of transcendental appeals to absolutes. As an interrogation of the moral
dimension of the social and political, the charge of hypocrisy reframes
established canons of adjudication, such as prudence, efficacy, efficiency,
and timeliness in moral terms. This charge toggles between an appeal
to transcendent moral principles, such as fairness and honesty, and a
recognition of the specific social and political contexts within which they
appear. As problematic as an appeal to transcendent principles may be, it
is inevitable, perhaps necessary under certain conditions. Without it, the
danger of cynical relativism and outright nihilism looms large. Focusing
on the discursive power of the charge of hypocrisy might separate the
moralizing tendencies that so often accompany this charge and deeper
moral layers that deserve close study. Here, too, there is a difference
between using morality for political purposes, to dismiss rival positions
or mock reasonable disagreements, and insisting that political choices are
inescapably moral as well: do they stand the test of fairness and justice?
The charge of hypocrisy encourages critical self-reflection of both the
charging party and those being charged, thereby avoiding the risk of
nihilism or cynicism, the Trumpian dismissal of any appeal to ethics and
virtues, or the belief that such an appeal is inherently in bad faith.
Hypocrisy is fascinating partially because it is seen by some to
mean lying, by others to exemplify bad faith, and still by others as the
disconnection between professed ideals and actual conduct. The Oxford
English Dictionary tells us that hypocrisy is the “practice of claiming
to have moral standards or beliefs to which one’s own behavior does
not conform; pretense.” And a hypocrite is someone who is “assuming
of a false appearance of virtue or goodness, with dissimulation of real
character or inclinations, especially in respect of religious life or beliefs;
hence in a general sense, dissimulation, pretence, sham.” To speak about
hypocrisy in moral terms, as most critics and commentators do, is to test
not only the usefulness of the term but also the limits of moral discourse
insofar as it cannot account for the different contexts within which
the term is applied. If moral philosophy offers a set of transcendental
principles and theories according to which virtue and vice are codified
 INTRODUCTION ix

and a set of criteria with which to judge human conduct, then it seems
that only some kinds of hypocrisy would fit into this discourse. This book
explores which kinds of hypocrisy or what degrees of hypocrisy do not
fit neatly into the analytic moral discourse. These would not be the more
obvious ones treated by moral discourse that analyzes outright lying,
deception and self-deception, acting in bad faith, and pretending to be
“better” in some sense than one truly is. The present focus is on the
Greek etymology of stage actors masking and unmasking themselves and
the modern Hebrew etymology of coloring and camouflage associated
with chameleons. This focus complicates a simple approach to the term,
hoping to accomplish at least these interrelated objectives: to appreciate
the moral dimension of the term in its various instantiations without
reverting to the moralizing tendencies associated with moral philosophy,
to offer a nuanced endorsement of some degree of hypocrisy in political
life and as a form of passing, and to problematize the tendency by moral
and political philosophers to analyze the term in terms of individual
conduct. The common use of “hypocrisy” as a disapproving shorthand for
behavior that might rankle some observers is both misguided and short-
sighted: it fails to account for the complexity of human psyches and for
the social dynamics that bring about and at times warrant such conduct.
The present analysis does not shy away from moral considerations as they
pertain to social, political, and economic institutions, but when doing so
it attempts to avoid setting moralizing criteria or hierarchies with which
to adjudicate degrees of hypocritical conduct. Instead, it is an attempt to
answer the cavalier and dangerous mindset of post-truth promoters on
the one hand, and the narrow and moralizing analyses of some analytic
moral philosophers on the other. A critical philosophical approach that
encompasses political, sociological, and psychological perspectives and
insights might prove to be a potent tool with which to ward off cynicism
and sanctimonious preaching.
I am writing this amid the coronavirus crisis, more specifically, the
global COVID-19 pandemic of 2020. Almost four years into the Trump
presidency and some 20,000 public lies and misrepresentations later, a
sense of urgency to think about hypocrisy remains as evident as it was
when I began working on this book three years ago. The Trump Admin-
istration’s performance throughout the crisis catapults its blindness to
its moral responsibility to unthinkable heights. Questions about the fair-
ness of health care provision across the nation are subverted and at times
x INTRODUCTION

completely ignored for the sake of rhetorical grandstanding, partisan poli-

tics, and the right to absolute and capricious choice. Individual liberty
is taken up as a political category that upends the safety of and care
for the health of the community. The false binary of public health and
economic well-being is meant to escape critical engagement. I argue that
the masking and unmasking of actors on the social and political stage in
the hope of finding behind the mask an authentic self are relevant when
people are masked to avoid spreading the virus, fearful of dying. When the
threat of death saturates the public imagination, critical commentary on
the difference between the Greek and Hebrew etymologies of hypocrisy,
one about masking and the other about chameleon-like coloring, though
somewhat esoteric may turn out to be informative. Who would care about
hypocrisy in times of crisis? To some extent, there is never a “proper” time
for critique. (Brown 2005) Perhaps the present critique of hypocrisy, one
that glosses over the obvious cases and delves into deeper philosophical,
sociological, and psychological regions, may appear untimely. But because
the Greek etymology of critique is about conditions of crisis, there may
be no better time to engage this with some moral standards against which
human speech and conduct are assessed. In times of crisis, every word
and gesture counts, especially if undertaken by political leaders hungry
for attention.
American hypocrisy dates at least to the beginning of the republic,
its “founding fathers” having promoted independence and autonomy,
liberty and equality, while importing and enslaving human beings from
the African continent or, in the case of Thomas Jefferson, “breeding”
slaves for sale. The language of the European Enlightenment notwith-
standing, the founding documents of the republic exemplify the hypocrisy
that permeates the Enlightenment in promoting ideals that are blind to
the realities of racism, sexism, and settler colonialism. Parallels to this kind
of national hypocrisy can be found as well in the discrepancy between
the French Revolution and its documents about egalitarian principles and
the realities of inequalities and colonialism, exemplified in the case of the
Haitian slave rebellion in 1791 and its repercussion. (Piketty 2020) The
Trumpian age’s numerous cases of political hypocrisy are more unapolo-
getically systemic than has been the case for some time. With the global
pandemic still in full force, the ongoing discrimination of people of color,
leading to their disproportionate susceptibility to contagion but also to
their elevated death toll, is manifest. The double standards facing people
of color that should have long ago been exposed and overcome, perhaps
 INTRODUCTION xi

denounced as hypocritical, continue to permeate the long history of

discrimination despite claims of equality, criminalization despite claims of
fairness, and disproportionate incarceration rates despite claims of liberty.
Wealth and income inequalities have affected them and other poor people
more drastically in this crisis as in every crisis before; continuous insti-
tutional discrimination exacts its toll from one generation to the next.
Even when governors require facemasks, Black citizens are suspected as
potential criminals while their white counterparts are congratulated for
behaving responsibly. It never ends. The annual celebration of Martin
Luther King Jr.’s birthday is no substitute for any real political will.
The specter of hypocrisy and its contemporary effects spans from race
relations in America to class warfare waged in the age of Trump through
immigration policies and tax reforms. As the pandemic is tearing through
the hypercapitalist structure of the American landscape, food supply chains
are weakened and we fear some of them might come to a halt. To
ensure the supply of California produce, for example, some undocu-
mented Mexican immigrant farmworkers are being designated “essential”
while the threat of deportation is temporarily lifted. In U.S. House Repre-
sentative Veronica Escobar’s words: “The hypocrisy within America is that
we want the fruits of their undocumented labor, but we want to give
them nothing in return.” (Corchado 2020) The Trumpian mantra of the
danger of illegal immigrants in our midst has been replaced with their
essential contribution to the American diet and well-being in this time of
crisis. Hypocrisy is a rhetorical shorthand for the malleability of policies
in complete disregard of an espoused ideology. Across the Atlantic, Scot-
land’s chief medical officer, Dr. Catherine Calderwood, resigned on April
4, 2020, because she failed to obey her own lockdown orders during the
pandemic and drove twice within ten days to visit her second home on
the east coast of the country. In her press conference, she explicitly used
the word hypocrisy to describe behavior for which she apologized and then
resigned her post. However random this example, since so many others
are readily available, it is clear that hypocrisy, unlike some other slurs or
denunciations, has a certain moral gravitas that once expressed in public
cannot be ignored (unless you are a sociopath like President Trump). It
is unlike other accusations, such as liar or thief that can be explained away
or countered, with evidence about the truth in the first case or book-
keeping in the second. Once labeled a hypocrite, one must marshal all
the moral arsenal at one’s disposal to refute the claim without doubling
down and suffering even further humiliation. Dr. Calderwood resigned, as
xii INTRODUCTION

might have been expected retrospectively of all the signers of the Amer-
ican Constitution, because she recognized her moral failing in violating
the covenant she swore to uphold with her community.
When the moral texture is highlighted in social and political contexts, it
reminds participants of their shared and contested beliefs about morality
and commitments that are neglected and others that deserve attention.
One of the problems with the reflexive turn to rights language heard in
the age of Trump—the right to defy official orders to wear a mask or
stay at home, or the right to open one’s business regardless of health
concerns—is that it has the veneer of principled argumentation but in fact
is undertaken in bad faith; it is in this sense hypocritical more often than
not. The so-called right not to wear masks in public loses its credibility
when the risk of contagion is scientifically verifiable. What is left unsaid
is the moral claim for individuality over community, personal tastes and
preferences over the health and well-being of the community. In short, the
charge of hypocrisy is not limited to the loss of sincerity and the integrity
of the subject on any stage; rather it is about flagging different modes
of constructing, affirming, dismissing, and wrecking social and political
relationships, or about disappointed expectations, falling short of ideals
and not wanting to accept our and others’ shortcomings. As will become
clear by the end of this book, the social bonds exemplified in friendships
are guided by shared moral convictions. These moral convictions are not
ancillary but essential for bringing and keeping communities together.
Perhaps the charge of hypocrisy can play the role of guiding community
members to tend to these moral principles, however abstract they may
seem at first. Without critical analysis, any hope for community building
may fade in the face of a cynical acquiescence that hypocrisy is ubiquitous
and that we are all hypocrites some of the time.
I have divided my analyses about hypocrisy into five chapters, each with
its own focus; their imbrication is deliberate and moves from the philo-
sophical to the political and the social all the way through the psychosocial
to the religious and personal.
Chapter 1 examines the classical philosophical binaries of truths and
lies, philosophy and sophistry. These binaries overstate their case for the
radical and easily demarcated difference between the terms they hold as
opposites. In their stead, thinking about degrees of truth rather than truths
and lies or truth and post-truth may obviate potential misunderstanding
or judgments based on idealized conceptions of their distinctions. This
way of thinking parallels the notion of degrees of civility, from brutal
 INTRODUCTION xiii

honesty to compassionate honesty to decency and manners among friends

and strangers. At stake in this reading is the sensitivity required in any
context. Two interrelated presuppositions undergird the points of this
chapter. The first assumes that if binary oppositions are the poles of a
spectrum of possibilities, anyone at any time is bound to be somewhere
along this spectrum and never fully on one extreme or the other. The
second incorporates the dialectical and postmodern notion of post-truth
as including truths and lies rather than an admission that the quest for
truth, however problematic, is altogether relinquished. To think of degrees
of hypocrisy in light of degrees of truth refuses the simple and perhaps
simple-minded rush to label this or that trivial manifestation of hypocrisy,
and demands a more nuanced approach to the conditions that may or may
not warrant the label of hypocrisy.
Chapter 2 examines the Greek and Hebrew etymologies of hypocrisy,
the former related to stage acting and the wearing of masks, while
the latter concerns blending into one’s environment in chameleon-like
behavior. Using five case studies that on their face exhibit the characteris-
tics of deception and pretense, manipulation and gaining advantage over
others, the two different etymologies are deployed to sharpen the contrast
between their applicability. Stage actors openly wear their masks and alert
their audiences that they are not accountable for their stage performance
outside the theater. Chameleons use camouflage to remain undetected
and have greater latitude in adapting to different environments. Though
both represent hypocrisy, when politicians don masks like actors they are
more readily vilified than when they adjust themselves to their stage like
chameleons, whose evolutionary strategies are deemed morally neutral,
perhaps even ingenious. Alternatively, the camouflage of the chameleon
may introduce gradations of moral justifications for survival under certain
circumstances, while judgments about the masking and unmasking of
hypocrites remain rigid across contexts. These interpretations need not
tip the scales of judgment to one direction of the etymology of the term
hypocrisy or the other, but they could supplement each other. Keeping
in mind a variety of interpretations might thwart snap judgments and
encourage more considered, perhaps messier ones.
Chapter 3 delves into the political realm where hypocrisy is most likely
to be detected and publicly condemned. In this register, at stake are
policy choices and coalition building that require the art of persuasion.
Whether the deliberations are domestic or international, their purpose is
to yield political results that at times require compromises. Here, too,
xiv INTRODUCTION

different kinds of compromise warrant different moral judgments. Hypo-

critical conduct in this context may be understood on a spectrum of possi-
bilities, some acceptable and others contemptible. Political realities high-
light not only different kinds of hypocrisy but underscore some of their
positive implementations. Some hypocrisies are justifiable, even essential
for political purposes, and therefore they deserve to be critically exam-
ined. Political realities also reveal the discursive limitations of hypocrisy as
a blunt moral weapon with which to dissect the intricacies of statecraft.
When politicians appear hypocritical, they may be performing well and
treating their constituents and political allies and rivals much better than
if they remained steadfast in their consistent adherence to principles. And
when citizens appear to conform to the social and cultural conventions
and norms of their communities, they cannot help but fall into the alluring
trap of civilized hypocrisy, where their instincts and desires are repressed,
where social and moral demands cannot always be fulfilled. Sociality may
necessitate compromise, but it does not demand hypocrisy.
Chapter 4 moves from the political discourse of state actors to the
psychological discourse that inquires about individuals and their capacity
to participate in affairs of state. Not only must they reconcile the civi-
lized hypocrisy of conformity and professional role playing assigned to
them by the community, they are also presumed to fit some Cartesian–
Kantian model of the self as a unified and consistent subject or agent
whose conduct can be judged against a standard of hypocrisy. This model
is contrasted with the psychoanalytic and neuroscientific models that ques-
tion the uniformity of the self. If the self cannot be known, and if there
is no ontological self prior to its unfolding in language, how is it possible
to claim the absence of authenticity in the name of hypocrisy? Similarly, if
the mind has multiple modules with different functionalities that respond
in evolutionary terms to different survival threats and needs and therefore
is at times inconsistent, is the charge of inconsistency the most relevant
or salient for accusations of hypocrisy? Even if hypocrisy seems too blunt
a term to be affixed to individuals, it might still serve as a deterrent for
immoral and antisocial behavior.
Chapter 5 begins with a brief mention of the religious denunciation
of hypocrisy as behavior sinful toward the divine and injurious to fellow
humans. This seems a relevant brief detour insofar as moral condemna-
tions rely on fixed moral ideals, some of which are traceable to religious
sacred texts. Questions of passing and code-switching are essential strate-
gies for survival available to oppressed minorities. Victim hypocrisy as a
 INTRODUCTION xv

response to threatening and discriminatory treatment has been morally

justified for centuries. The moral register is never far removed from discus-
sions of human conduct and when historically studied calls for rethinking
such judgments. If the fear of being labeled a hypocrite fosters trust, it
might be necessary for human relations and interactions. Barring an appeal
to the divine or some nebulous appeal to solidarity and empathy, perhaps
what remains is the appeal to virtues and the virtue of friendship. Virtuous
friends might be in a position to critically challenge the conduct of their
friends with honesty and goodwill. No matter the judgment, such a chal-
lenge is a useful lifeline that has the potential to ensure the well-being of
a community.
In conclusion, it seems that the concept of hypocrisy is suspended
between irrelevance because of misguided charges and idealized aspi-
rations that cannot be actualized. This suspension is important in the
present age because it bespeaks of the persistence of the charge of
hypocrisy. The ubiquity and cavalier dismissal of the charge of hypocrisy
in the age of Trump has not completely erased the fear associated with
this charge, the fear that as hard as one tries, there is always the prospect
that something could be characterized as hypocritical even when the
best effort is made to remain mindful and aware of social perceptions.
Unlike Jacques Derrida’s specters of Jacques Derrida (1994) and Karl
Marx’s specter of communism (1848), the first in the temporal sense
of ghostly retrieval of the past as disturbing the present and the second
as promising a revolutionary moment in the future, my use of specter is
intended in a more limited sense of a moral haunting of an invisible but
omnipresent (perhaps “impartial” in Adam Smith’s (1759) sense) spec-
tator who is lurking around everywhere. As overused a term as hypocrisy
may seem now, its specter is “an apparition, phantom, or ghost, espe-
cially one of a terrifying nature or aspect,” the kind that terrifies perhaps
most profoundly insofar as it is “produced by reflection.” (OED) The
specter of hypocrisy terrifies when we reflect on what we have done, how
we have done it, and for what purpose. The terror accompanying hypo-
critical conduct depends on the potency of the charge of hypocrisy to
prevent harm and ensure sociality. The endurance of this specter deserves
reflection, especially in an age when hypocrisy is often simply ignored or
taken for granted as a vice. In different contexts, the charge of hypocrisy
not only changes its meaning but also makes it clear that it appeals to
different standards. The reflective mode that is being called forth in this
book reminds those who charge some conduct to be hypocritical that
xvi INTRODUCTION

this charge engages moral principles that ought to be made explicit and
critically evaluated rather than presumed as incontestable.
As I complete this book, I am painfully aware that most of my argu-
ments are partial and require elaboration, relying as they are on the
insights of others and overlooking many more sources that deserve more
attention than accorded here. I readily admit that the obligations to read
more, to read more carefully, and to spend more time elucidating the
ideas of others while synthesizing them as clearly as possible have not
been fully realized here. The exercise, I must admit, has been therapeutic
and humbling, appreciating along the way not to judge too harshly or
quickly, but to be as generous as one can be with friends and strangers
who live in especially precarious times.

References
Wendy Brown (2005), “Untimeliness and Punctuality: Critical
Theory in Dark Times,” in Edgework: Critical Essays on Knowledge
and Politics. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, Ch. 1.
Alfredo Corchado (2020), “A Former Farmworker on American
Hypocrisy,” New York Times (5/6/20). Available at: https://www.
nytimes.com/2020/05/06/opinion/sunday/coronavirus-essential-
workers.html. Accessed (8/24/20).
Jacques Derrida (1994), The Specters of Marx: The State of Debt, The
Work of Mourning and the New International [1993]. Translated by
Peggy Kamuf. New York and London: Routledge.
Thomas Piketty (2020), Capital and Ideology [2019]. Translated by
Arthur Goldhammer. Cambridge and London: Harvard University
Press.
Adam Smith (1976), The Theory of Moral Sentiments [1759].
London: Penguin.
 Contents

1 Degrees of Truth 1
1.1 The Context of Post-Truth: The Trumpian Age 1
1.2 Critiques of Scientific Truths 17
1.3 The Politics of Post-Truth 24
1.4 Perspectival Truths 29
References 38

2 Greek Masks and Hebrew Chameleons 41

2.1 Greek and Hebrew Etymologies of Hypocrisy 41
2.2 Five Examples 48
2.3 Some Standard Views and Their Limitations 60
2.4 Alternative Readings 81
References 89

3 Complicity and Compromise 91

3.1 Political Economy 91
3.2 Individuals and Communities 97
3.3 Organized Hypocrisy on the Political Economic Stage 109
3.4 The Price of National Security: Loss of Identity 118
References 125

4 In Search of the Self 127

4.1 Acting, Reacting, and Posing 127

xvii
xviii CONTENTS

4.2 Group Psychology 137

4.3 Krasner on the Modular Mind 142
4.4 Caillois and Nietzsche on Mimicry 153
References 159

5 Misrecognition and Passing 161

5.1 Religious Precedence 161
5.2 Passing and Code-Switching 166
5.3 Visibility, Invisibility, and Identity 186
5.4 Morality at Work 199
References 211

Conclusion 215

Bibliography 223

Index 233
 CHAPTER 1

Degrees of Truth

Abstract This chapter examines the classical philosophical binaries of

truths and lies, philosophy and sophistry. These binaries overstate their
case and in their stead, thinking about degrees of truth rather than truths
and lies or truth and post-truth obviates potential misunderstanding or
judgments. At stake in this reading is the sensitivity required of judging
within contexts. This sensitivity incorporates the dialectical and post-
modern notion of post-truth as including truths and lies rather than an
admission that the quest for truth, however problematic, is altogether
relinquished. To think of degrees of hypocrisy in light of degrees of truth
refuses the simple and perhaps simple-minded rush to label trivial mani-
festation of hypocrisy and demands a more nuanced approach to the
conditions that may or may not warrant the label of hypocrisy.

1.1 The Context of Post-Truth: The Trumpian Age

George Orwell reminds us in Nineteen Eighty-Four that the regime of
Big Brother and its use of doublethink “means the power of holding two
contradictory beliefs in one’s mind simultaneously, and accepting both
of them.” (1981/1949, 176) If logic was supposed to preserve some
modicum of clarity and ascertain truth claims, under fascism and totali-
tarianism it loses its power. This is the case in Orwell’s dystopian novel
because the party controls the historical record, erasing inconvenient facts
and adding others, so that the distinction between truths and lies becomes
blurred. As Orwell says, the “past was erased, the erasure was forgotten,

© The Author(s) 2020 1

R. Sassower, The Specter of Hypocrisy,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-60573-5_1
2 R. SASSOWER

the lie became truth.” (ibid., 64) If official assertions are deemed truthful
only because they are sanctioned by those who authored them, what is
the point of quibbling over logical nuances and empirical evidence and
testimonies? Any challenge in Orwell’s fictive world is bound to end in
either dismissal or persecution, gulags established by the likes of Stalin and
his henchmen or concentration camps set up by Hitler and the Gestapo.
President Trump has relegated anything he fears or disagrees with as “fake
news” to discredit it as unworthy of the traditional critical examination
accorded to public claims and statements of fact, following the slippery
slope that turns democracies into totalitarian regimes. Herein lies the
concern of this book: it is not that the Trump Administration will ignore
dissent and send dissenters to the gulags or concentration camps, but that
it will empty public discourse of the richness of debate and deliberation,
where conventional reference to evidence and truth telling are sacrosanct.
In other words, without some basic agreement about the boundary condi-
tions that inform communication as a starting point, agreements and
disagreements are reduced to personal preferences and power moves.
Becoming popular with Brexit and continuing into the Trump era,
“post-truth” was dubbed by the Oxford English Dictionary its word of
the year in 2016. Post-truth must be taken seriously not only by jour-
nalists who cover current political development but also by philosophers.
On one level, this term takes us back to the classical Socratic distinction
between sophistry and philosophy, and on another, there is something
more insidious and frightening akin to the dystopia envisioned by Orwell.
The specter of truth haunts the contemporary political stage, relentlessly
being dismissed while never quite leaving the stage, demanding, as it
were, to remain at the center of every debate, whether about the scientific
data informing the fight against coronavirus contagion or foreign rela-
tions with adversaries. On another level, this point of obfuscation about
the truth and perhaps relativism run amok was an unintended conse-
quence of the challenges to every scientific claim for its hold on truth and
certainty. To speak of hypocrisy in the moral register requires speaking
about truth telling and the conditions under which a statement is deemed
true. Philosophers have traditionally played a central role in investigating
the conditions that distinguish true statements from false ones, both on
logical and empirical grounds. Their investigations established the ground
rules for communication so that misrepresentations could be corrected
rather than, in the Orwellian fictive world, become part of a fabricated
historical record. In this sense, epistemological questions become moral
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 3

questions as well: statements that cannot be critically examined and refuse

rectification can turn into deliberate deceptions. The post-truth condi-
tion requires the kind of epistemological and moral vigilance that would
undergird the engagement with the specter of hypocrisy. The community
of science studies has traditionally scrutinized the privilege accorded the
natural sciences as the explorers of knowledge and the guardians of its
truth claims. This critical scrutiny linked epistemological concerns with
social and moral ones as they apprise public policy.
As one of its leaders, Bruno Latour reminds the community of
science studies writ large (sociologists, philosophers, and anthropolo-
gists who endorse some version of deconstruction, poststructuralism, or
postmodernism) that it may be indirectly responsible for the current
misunderstanding of how to deal with critical engagements, but not for
the perniciousness of our post-truth predicament. To someone unfamiliar
with the critiques of scientific certainty, these critiques may seem to legit-
imate the dismissal of empirical data, evidence-based statements, and the
means by which scientific claims are deemed to be credible or true. Is this
“gullible criticism,” indeed, “a case of radicalism gone mad”? (Latour
2004, 231) Latour’s lament suggests that the “question was never to
get away from facts but closer to them, not fighting empiricism but, on
the contrary, renewing empiricism.” (ibid.; italics in the original) There
is a difference between bad critique contesting the facticity of scientific
“facts” and good science studies wanting to “get closer” to facts. For
science studies scholars, the facticity of facts and the grounds on which
they are established (epistemology) is only one part of the story; the other,
even more crucial part is concerned with the horrors inflicted on people,
animals, and the planet when facts are deliberately or accidentally miscon-
strued and are uncritically accepted (morality). In this rendering, an earlier
concern with the “two dogmas of empiricism,” introduced two genera-
tions earlier by the philosopher Willard Van Orman Quine comes to mind.
The first “dogma” or belief suggests that there is “some fundamental
cleavage” between truths that are analytic (“grounded in meanings inde-
pendent of matters of fact”) and those that are synthetic (“grounded in
fact”). (1961, 20) The second dogma is reductionism: “the belief that
each meaningful statement is equivalent to some logical construct upon
terms which refer to immediate experience.” (ibid.) In questioning the
validity of these two sets of belief, the one about the meanings that
depend on facts and the other about the logical structure of language,
Quine deliberately blurs the boundary between “speculative metaphysics
4 R. SASSOWER

and natural science.” (ibid.) His own pragmatic approach argues for the
inherent interpretive dimension of every statement about human expe-
rience and thereby problematizes the epistemological conditions under
which a community of inquirers reaches an agreement about truth claims.
As Quine concedes, the “myth of physical objects is epistemologically
superior” to myths about gods and fairies that control nature because it
has “proven more efficacious than other myths as a device for working
a manageable structure into the flux of experience.” (ibid., 44) The
efficacy in question here differs from an appeal to a direct and unen-
cumbered perception and knowledge of facts; instead, it relies on the
continuous interpretation and inscription of meaning to statements about
matters of fact, allowing for the changing truth status of statements (given
new evidence). Quine’s concession to degrees of truth about knowledge
claims and Latour’s concern to get “closer” to facts in order to ascer-
tain their truth-value are supposed to reassure the scientific community
and the public that the truth about our knowledge claims is still worthy
of pursuit. There are others, like Steve Fuller, who seem to have given
up on the quest for truth altogether and give credence to the Orwellian
nightmare we observe in the Trumpian age. As a leading British soci-
ologist of science and advocate of social epistemology (all knowledge is
socially constructed), Fuller offers academic legitimacy to a dismissive way
of thinking about truth claims and the conditions under which they ought
to be scrutinized. His promotion of post-truth circumvents the critical
analysis of truth conditions in favor of a plurality of opinions that in
turn need not defend themselves in any epistemological court. (2018,
Chapter 1) This approach exploits Quine’s analysis of the dogmas of
empiricism and Latour’s lament over losing touch with empirical facts and
cynically presents itself as the guardian of populist common sense. With a
Trump-like glee, the likes of Fuller present themselves as rebellious maver-
icks and iconoclasts fighting against the privileged elites whose insular
scientific discourse is deployed by experts to pontificate over authoritative
consensus claims.
At stake is no longer an internal debate among scientists and philoso-
phers over knowledge claims and their truth-value, but the very possibility
of coherent deliberations over public policies. Given that what has been
taken for granted about public communication can no longer be relied
on, it is worthwhile to revisit the classic philosophical concerns with
ontology and epistemology. These concerns point to the danger of critical
engagement deteriorating into skepticism and relativism. To avoid ending
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 5

with outright cynicism about the possibility of knowing anything at all, it

would behoove us to agree, however tentatively and by convention, that
in order to pursue the truth about empirical data (for personal reasons
or policy purposes) a community (of inquirers) must share a common
ground or some ground rules of communication.
Revisiting the question of what counts as truth telling takes us back to
Socrates’ ongoing battle with the sophists of his day. Some have argued
that the line of demarcation between philosophy and sophistry is clear,
almost sacrosanct. The standard argument goes like this: “philosophy”
(ϕιλoσ oϕία filosofía) claims as its end the love of wisdom and therefore
of knowledge and truth, while “sophistry” (σ oϕισ τ εία sofisteía) uses falla-
cious arguments and deceptive techniques to win debates. It is interesting
that the Latin sophista (and sophists ) refers to someone who makes use of
fallacious arguments and to “a master of one’s craft; a wise or prudent
man, one clever in matters of daily life,” the first with negative and the
second with positive connotations. The addition of “clever” in the second
could have a negative connotation as well if it were meant to contrast with
the “wise” of wisdom. In any case, sophistry becomes in Socrates’ hands
a contemptuous and pejorative label to distinguish those clever (even if
wise) craftsmen from the philosophers whose love of wisdom has no pecu-
niary rewards. (Century Dictionary) Socrates’ derisive comments about
sophistry are usually presented as part of his unwavering commitment
to the truth, the love of wisdom at all costs, and his famous claim that
sophists are paid to twist meanings to suit their paying masters (Gorgias ).
Aristotle continues in this vein to define sophistry as “wisdom in appear-
ance only” (Metaphysics ). In Socrates’ denunciation of sophistry in general
and the sophists as his sworn enemies there is a subtle acknowledgment
of the knotty relationship between the seeker of truth and wisdom and
the one who claims to have gained it. During his trial, Socrates suggests
he is the wisest man alive because he knows what he does not know,
admitting to the limitations of his knowledge (Apology). The sophists,
by contrast, are pretentious: they pretend to know what they, by defi-
nition, cannot know, that is, the truth. They may know something, as
Socrates admits he does as well, but their knowledge consists of the tricks
of the game of learning and the rhetorical skills with which to persuade
their listeners. Philosophers and sophists alike use rhetorical devices and
are therefore rhetoricians and orators, attempting to persuade their audi-
ences. The difference between philosophers and the sophists, then, lies in
6 R. SASSOWER

their respective intentions: some seek truth, the others seek to win argu-
ments. The rhetorical skills will not get one to the truth, though they will
help win arguments. The lawyer as sophist thus seeks to argue the case as
persuasively as possible, even when this results in exonerating the guilty
and indicting the innocent.
My reading of Socrates detects a certain concern with hypocrisy—
deception and pretense, self-deception, and the deliberate manipulation
of an audience (even of one)—conveniently leveled against sophists but
exempting philosophers. (see some of this in Dupriez 1991) But is the
charge of hypocrisy applicable in a case where sophists openly declare
their intent to argue as powerfully as possible to win the hearts of their
audience and win cases when paid to do so? In this sense, sophists
are as honest about their trade as philosophers are, though their goals
differ. Perhaps there is a confusion here between sophistry and rhetoric, a
confusion that begins already with Socrates. As Edward Schiappa (1995)
suggests (following Gorgias 465C), Socrates’ sense of the mixture of the
two relies on his observations about the methods used by the sophists.
In selling their credentials and their expertise, sophists used rhetorical
devices and the flourishes of logical argumentations to persuade their
interlocutors, and in doing so, they had no interest in philosophical
pursuits. If the name of the game is victory at all costs and if the game
is political brinksmanship for the sake of amassing power, then any philo-
sophical illusion about knowledge for knowledge’s sake or the quest for
the truth is beside the point. The genealogy of this recognition dates back
to Roman emperors and later to Machiavelli (in the sixteenth century),
Marx and Nietzsche (in the nineteenth century), Foucault and Lyotard
(in the twentieth century), and reaches the advocates of the “playfulness”
of post-truth games in the age of Trump and Brexit (in the twenty-
first century). New discursive games may endanger the ones we have
historically perceived insofar as they seem to refuse to engage at all with
their interlocutors and critics. Cynical dismissal of different viewpoints by
means of rhetorical entertainment violates the premise of critical deliber-
ation established by philosophers. It is no longer the Socratic distinction
between philosophy and sophistry that holds, but a distinction between
deliberation and entertainment. Sophistry in the service of distraction
needs no rules and evades the detection of falsehoods, since the truth
is no longer at issue. The Trumpian age warrants a philosophical engage-
ment not because philosophers can hold up truth criteria that would bring
the 45th US president’s fans to their senses, but because only within a
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 7

framework that respects truth seeking and truth telling, however prob-
lematic both remain, can a society hope to minimize the perils envisioned
by Orwell’s fictional dystopia and Hannah Arendt’s scholarly treatise on
totalitarianism (1951), as we shall see below.
Barbara Cassin, an important interpreter of the French philosopher and
psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan’s work, moves the discussion of truths and
lies to meaning production, which is exemplified within the psychoana-
lytic process. (2020, 25) As she does this, she explains that where truth
was on the side of philosophy, now it is on the side of psychoanalysis
(and sophistry, reconsidered). In her words, “from Freud to Lacan, we
have moved decisively from the love of truth to the discourse of truth.”
(ibid., 27) This move modifies the quest for and love of truth as a hidden
treasure to be uncovered. The search for and dialogic exposition of truth
is taken out of the hands of philosophers and shifted to the interpretive
mode of looking for meaning in the “discourse of truth” that is under-
taken in the therapeutic context of psychoanalysis. The emphasis on the
discursive process also announces the potential for the unconscious to
show itself through speech and construct meaning whose discursive truth
is announced as well. Unlike the Socratic dialogue that keeps the speakers
teleologically focused, on track to find out what a concept means, in this
case, speech produces meaning in its enfolding. Philosophers like Socrates
seem to have an agenda and a dialogic method by which to accomplish
it (even if it may be the case that Socrates himself really just enjoyed
conversations and arguments for their own sake), in the psychoanalytic
context, says Cassin, the “most splendid, original truths” emerge organ-
ically. Cassin argues that, according to Lacan, “discourse creates being,
and this is why its meaning can only be grasped after the fact, in view of
the world it has produced.” (ibid., 35) In this sense, then, the truth is
constructed and not uncovered. Without continuing to engage the intri-
cacies of the psychoanalytic discourse and logic within clinical settings, it
suffices here to say that it is clear that speech does not reveal or disclose
or unveil the façade of the subject; it brings into being one’s being. In
short, there are “only interpretations and interpretations of interpreta-
tions.” (ibid.) In other words, there is no philosophical essence or truth
to be discovered or unmasked. Socrates himself had to admit that philos-
ophy and sophistry were similar enough in order to insist on a difference,
to formulate a difference and hope it would stick, even at his trial and
even with an audience that was skeptical of anything he had to say in his
own defense. Cassin’s interrogation, by contrast, breaks down the Socratic
8 R. SASSOWER

difference when it gets to constructing meaning (and truth) rather than

searching for the Truth.
There is a radical difference between the Trumpian-like refusal to
engage the criteria according to which to measure the truth-value of
empirical or any other claims within the framework of public discourse
and the debates over these criteria and their efficacy, whether they are
constructed or transcendent. The rhetorical misappropriation of some of
the more flamboyant rhetorical moves of self-proclaimed postmodernists,
for example, does a grave disservice to public deliberation over worth-
while disagreements. Perhaps the most accessible, least nuanced work that
carried the day at the time to discredit the privileged scientific discourse
was written by Jean Baudrillard (1995) who suggested the Gulf War was
nothing but a media hoax. After pronouncing this outlandish claim, it
became difficult to defend the poststructuralists and deconstructionists
who were making careful arguments about the effects of epistemolog-
ical overreaching. The analytic wing of the philosophical community
reacted with vehemence to Baudrillard’s rhetorical (sophistic) maneu-
vers and found easy pickings. As one of their leading advocates, Harry
Frankfurt, noted: “These shameless antagonists of common sense—
members of a certain emblematic subgroup of them call themselves
‘postmodernists’—rebelliously and self-righteously deny that truth has
any genuinely objective reality at all. They therefore go on to deny that
truth is worthy of any obligatory deference or respect.” (2006, 18–19)
Name calling (“shameless antagonists of common sense”) as a substitute
for an argument reeks of fallacious reasoning (ad hominem). Shifting from
the descriptive (“rebellious”) to the normative (“self-righteous”) is the
maneuver of someone trying to discredit an argument without fully laying
it out. And confusing the legitimate critique of objectivity with a whole-
sale dismissal of truth as such is itself a shameless overstatement (similar
in kind to Latour’s own critique of critique), one anchored not in textual
evidence but in speculation at best and plain aversion at worst to the point
that intellectual “respect” is abandoned.
Had Frankfurt read the works of postmodernists or deconstruction-
ists, he might have avoided committing logical fallacies in his judgment
of their work. He would have learned that it is exactly their commitment
to honesty (scientific and other) that motivates their scrutiny, that their
interest in understanding and interpreting facts and evidence is both epis-
temological and ontological (in Quine’s sense), and that when Jacques
Derrida, for example, speaks of the limits of metaphysical language, he
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 9

does not thereby mean to negate the existence of objective reality. Rather,
he pleads for some humility on the part of those savants making claims
to know, objectively, the nature of reality. For example, he says: “what is
called ‘objectivity,’ scientific for instance (in which I firmly believe, in a
given situation), imposes itself only within a context which is extremely
vast, old, powerfully established, stabilized or rooted in a network of
conventions (for instance, those of language) and yet which still remains
a context. . . That does not in the slightest discredit them. In the name
of what, of which other ‘truth,’ moreover, would it?” (1988, 136) This
is neither a claim to an alternative truth nor a renunciation of the scien-
tific project; it is, on the contrary, a plea for care and self-awareness in
our knowledge production endeavors, the kind already announced in the
Socratic dialogues and the psychoanalytic practice. Would this qualifi-
cation suffice for Frankfurt? Does such a call for context within which
statements about objectivity and truth are tested undermine a commit-
ment to reality, facts, and objectivity as such? As Latour has insisted in his
rebuke to bad critique, this kind of careful, critical inquiry would bring
the investigator “closer” to reality, facts, and truth. Closer in the sense
of recognizing human fallibility and the mediating effects of linguistic
pronouncements, closer in the sense of pursuing knowledge and truth
even while we know that claims are always bound by the limitations of
what Donna Haraway (1988) has called our “situatedness.” Yet insistently
closer nonetheless.
Perhaps like John Searle before him (1983), Frankfurt has a funda-
mental mistrust of continental philosophers in general and the French
postmodernists and deconstructionists in particular. It may be their
allegedly difficult writing style or their critical posture vis-à-vis logocen-
trism that upsets him; it may be their failure to venerate the “truth” as
he understands it. Rather than build bridges and find common ground,
he suggests drawing on the Socratic distinction between philosophy and
sophistry, which for him suggests that only he and his fellow analytic
philosophers “care primarily about the discrete facts, and about inferences
that these facts may support.” (2006, 95) As fanciful as the language of
postmodernists and deconstructionists may sometimes be, they do not
recoil from this “common sense” approach to inference making. Rather,
their linguistic maneuvering formally illustrates the very limits of linguistic
expression that they thematize, and attests to their own struggle to be
careful and sensitive to nuanced meanings. Frankfurt’s conclusion that
10 R. SASSOWER

“It is only through our recognition of a world of stubbornly independent

reality, fact, and truth that we come both to recognize ourselves as beings
distinct from others and to articulate the specific nature of our own iden-
tities” (ibid., 101) sounds reasonable but is contestable. Perhaps the likes
of Frankfurt fail to appreciate the early efforts of Baudrillard, for example,
who worried about the impact of the “discourse of simulation,” one that
“threatens the difference between ‘true’ and ‘false,’ between ‘real ‘and
‘imaginary’.” (1983, 5) Baudrillard’s concern with “hyperreality” was
neither shameless nor antagonistic, neither rebellious nor self-righteous;
instead, it warned of the conditions under which reality might be mistaken
for its simulacra, facts lost in the shuffle of their duplication, and the truth
never fully revealed even when searched for. (ibid., 7) Had he read these
lines, Frankfurt might have been less dismissive of the French thinkers he
holds in contempt. It is one thing to argue about the methods by which
truth is ascertained, as Socrates did, and quite another to suggest that
truth has been abandoned, or worse, mocked, as Socrates claimed was the
case with the sophists of his day. And to suggest that only one method
should dominate the intellectual landscape is tantamount to intellectual
dogmatism reminiscent of religious clerics and fascist dictators.
But not all truths are equal. As we recall from Hegel’s Phenomenology
of Spirit, there are differences between historical, mathematical, scientific,
and philosophical truths. Referring to philosophy as the ultimate arbiter
of the truth-value of knowledge claims, it becomes clear, for Hegel, that
“what counts as truth can only deserve the name of truth when philos-
ophy has had a hand in its production. Other sciences may try to get
by without philosophy and to rely merely on clever argumentation, but
without philosophy, they are unable to possess any life, spirit, or truth in
themselves.” (2018, 42 #67) Whether empirically verified or supported by
“clever argumentation,” scientific truths lack the “life” and “spirit” that
turns them into philosophical truths. Philosophy, for Hegel, is essential to
the production and legitimation of truths. Hegel’s warning differs from
Frankfurt’s and Latour’s because he does not advocate that in the search
of truth philosophers must get closer to the facts, but comes closer instead
to Quine’s, Baudrillard’s, and Cassin’s respective concerns with inter-
pretation and meaning. Philosophical deliberations, according to Hegel,
guarantee a deeper understanding of the conditions under which truths
are produced. Hegel never discredited scientific knowledge, but unlike
some contemporary analytic philosophers, he insisted that it was only a
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 11

means for and not the end of discovering truths. The collection of empir-
ical data may yield useful information; organized methodologically, this
information can be transformed into knowledge; examined critically, this
knowledge can reveal truths. Lacan’s reading of this Hegelian move from
knowledge to truth points to the “sensitive frontier” between them.
For Hegel, “an ideal solution” is the one in which “truth is in the state
of constant reabsorption in its own disturbing element, being in itself
no more than that which is lacking for the realization of knowledge.”
In Hegel’s Phenomenology, this means, in Lacan’s reading, that “Truth
is nothing other than that which knowledge can apprehend as knowl-
edge only by setting its ignorance to work.” (1977, 296) A dialectical
aufhebung is needed so that knowledge can eventually, after a logi-
cally unfolding process, fully contain “Truth” but also perceive its own
development as being “true.” The Hegelian progress toward a future
truth establishes a temporal horizon toward which knowledge aims. The
ongoing accumulation of scientific knowledge evolves and is philosophi-
cally transformed over time into truths, and these truths, in turn, continue
a dialectic movement that acknowledges “ignorance” and overcomes it
from a higher plateau of understanding. Lacan compares the striving
toward the unknown that becomes partially known with each step to
Sigmund Freud’s understanding of the perils of truth seeking. In Lacan’s
words, “Freud’s dramatism” suggests “the re-entry of truth into the field
of science at the same time as it gains recognition in the field of its praxis:
repressed, it appears.” (ibid., 297) For Freud, as we shall see in some
detail later, the insertion of the “repressed” truth is an attempt for the
truth to be recognized as such, to have a chance to be recognized at all.
This differs from the celebratory or perhaps simply the matter-of-factness
of Hegel’s elevation of truth as an indispensable feature of knowledge,
which would be revealed with every step of the dialectical movement.
Freud’s hidden truth may be so “repressed” that it might not be brought
to light, and if revealed, denied as truth and cast as only partial and
lacking rigorous empirical support. Though Hegel and Freud search for
the truth in the process of knowledge acquisition, in Lacan’s reading, the
Hegelian optimism about the final revelation of truth is questioned by
Freud’s concern over truth’s “constant re-absorption in its own disturbing
element.” The Hegelian aufhebung is forward and upward, with the
potential of getting ever closer to the ultimate Truth; the Freudian inward
movement is as committed to progress toward the truth but perhaps
more realistic about its self-imposed limits. Either way, summarizes Lacan,
12 R. SASSOWER

Hegel’s “unhappy consciousness” meets Freud’s “discontents of civiliza-

tion” (ibid.) in their shared lamentation about the limitations shared by
knowledge, self-knowledge, and any claim for apprehending the truth.
What is at stake is not truth and knowledge, truth and reality, or even
self-knowledge, but instead Michel Foucault’s linkage of truth and power
along Socratic and Nietzschean lines. This nexus might frighten away
the self-proclaimed connoisseurs of truth whose daily fare is limited to
examining its decontextualized state, its neutral and universal domain of
meaning. According to analytic philosophers, the self-proclaimed custo-
dians of truth’s technical apparatus, power has nothing to do with the
truth. They remain oblivious to critiques, standard since Socrates, that
have shown the intimate relations truth has with its promoters and
guardians, whose expertise is to remain unchallenged so that politi-
cally expedient “noble lies” can be morally justified. (Republic 414b-c)
In Foucault’s discussion of the “specific intellectual” (whose expertise
displaces the “universal intellectual” of the nineteenth century), he recog-
nizes the “political responsibilities” associated with this public role.
(1980, 130–1) In light of these responsibilities, Foucault reminds his
readers that “truth isn’t the reward of free spirits, the child of protracted
solitude, nor the privilege of those who have succeeded in liberating
themselves.” (ibid., 131) The romantic imaginary that saw great canonical
thinkers as shielded from the politics of their day is called into question.
Foucault places the seekers of truth within the boundaries of the tumul-
tuous world of politics, explaining along the way that “truth isn’t outside
power, or lacking in power.” (ibid.) That truth claims are powerful espe-
cially when contextualized within power relations (of the academy or the
state or capitalism or the church or all of them in varying degrees) was
already admitted by Socrates. But should Frankfurt and his cohorts seize
on these statements to bolster their argument about postmodern antag-
onism toward the pristine status of truth, Foucault is quick to aver that
“truth is a thing of this world,” namely, it cannot escape objective reality
because “it is produced only by virtue of multiple forms of constraint.”
(ibid.) Read critically, the second statement about truth production and
its constraints explains the first about truth being “of this world” on
three interrelated registers. First, truth is a human production; it is not
given to humans by the gods (contrary to Greek mythology and biblical
lore). Second, truth production has constraints (logical, factual, linguistic,
and cultural) that precede it. Third, multiple “forms of constraint” may
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 13

conflict with each other and at times depict the truth as a compromised
and conventional production.
These concerns over the production of knowledge and truth were not
new with Foucault. The history of philosophy is a history of truth seekers
no matter the method or approach and no matter the imperfect results.
Some, like Socrates and Spinoza, exhibited modesty, others, like Aristotle,
Kant, and Hegel, organized knowledge and presented comprehensive
worldviews, while still others, like Rousseau and Nietzsche, problematized
the project of modernity and the faith in knowledge production exhibited
by promoters of the Enlightenment. Though sensitive to the corrupting
influence of power over the quest for knowledge and the search for truth,
philosophers traditionally sought to wrest truth from the clutches of
power and reveal its universality despite its manifestation within particular
contexts. After Marx, and despite his own claims for universal truths, it
is difficult to accept decontextualized truth claims. Does this mean that,
according to Foucault, anything goes when it comes to truth produc-
tion? Is Foucault’s apprehension about truth production an indication
of relativism, as some have charged? Being aware of the pitfalls awaiting
the seekers of truth need not (logically or even practically) lead one to
consternation or cynicism; on the contrary, the same intellectual vigilance
claimed by analytic philosophers seems to be at work here. Even when,
or perhaps especially because, “each society has its régime of truth,”
Foucault advises his readers to notice that each community “accepts and
makes function as true” specific “types of discourse.” Likewise, there are
“mechanisms and instances which enable one to distinguish true and false
statements,” “the means by which each is sanctioned,” and the “tech-
niques and procedures accorded value in the acquisition of truth.” These
statements would as likely come from an analytic academic as from a
French radical who has been said to care nothing for the truth. This
shared concern with truth may diffuse the epistemic tension between the
analytic and continental schools of thought. Foucault refers to “the status
of those who are charged with saying what counts as true.” (ibid.) Who
are “those who are charged”? Who authorizes them? Who are the intel-
lectual gatekeepers? For Socrates, philosophers held the line against the
sophists; for Hegel, philosophers had to critically engage the scientists;
for Frankfurt, he and his analytic friends will fend off the French nihilists
(who, to no one’s surprise, invoke Nietzsche).
14 R. SASSOWER

Once truth is understood as a “régime of truth,” as Foucault contends,

philosophers cannot afford to ignore the “political, economic, institu-
tional régime of the production of truth.” (ibid., 133) Foucault extends
the Socratic binary between philosophers and sophists, and questions the
status of those who make truth claims. But unlike the Socratic belief that
truth could be neutralized from and remain outside of the political realm,
Foucault insists that his call to arms “is not a matter of emancipating
truth from every system of power (which would be a chimera, for truth
is already power) but of detaching the power of truth from the forms of
hegemony, social, economic, and cultural, within which it operates at the
present time.” (ibid.) This injunction is more modest and honest than
the one offered by Socrates who advised that if truth is powerful, then
the best that could be done with it is to ensure it no longer remains
exclusively in the clutches of the powerful, with the exception of the
philosopher-king. For Foucault, then, it is not only that the powerful
will use the truth for their purposes, as Socrates warned, but also that the
power of truth will be abused. This challenge keeps the epistemic bar high
enough to detect power relations wherever they are and invites, at a lower
register, critical examination of what can be accepted as truth outside of or
alongside the establishment that will harness whatever is available to retain
its power. However tempting, might this invitation confuse, as Arendt
cautions, rational and factual truths? Rational truths, as modern philoso-
phers declared, arise from logical investigations and logical analyses, while
factual truths emerge from empirical data collection. Immanuel Kant was
the first to combine the two sets of claims: “thoughts without content
are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind.” Thinking requires both
empirical content and logical structuring on the way of assessing truth
claims. Unlike Kant, Arendt contends that much is at stake in differen-
tiating “mathematical, scientific, and philosophical truths” from factual
ones. (2005, 2) Though she would agree with Hegel and Foucault about
human intervention in the production of all of these truths, she finds it
useful to distinguish between them to some extent and with full awareness
that the distinction is problematic.
In the political realm, Arendt contends, “the chances of factual truth
surviving the onslaught of power are very slim indeed.” (ibid., 3) Writing
during the cultural upheavals of the 1960s, it stands to reason that she
focuses on “the clash of factual truth and politics, which we witness
today on such a large scale.” (ibid., 5) What would she have said had
she witnessed the post-truth era of the 2010s? Since Arendt considers
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 15

the conflict between truth and politics to be the conflict between truth
and opinion, and since she understands opinion to be publicly commu-
nicated, she suggests that “facts and opinions, though they must be
kept apart, are not antagonistic to each other; they belong to the same
realm.” (ibid., 7) Being in the same political realm, they are suscep-
tible to mistakes and misrepresentation, and are thereby to be evaluated
differently than rational truths, the validation of which belongs to a
different realm, perhaps the scientific and academic. There is an oppres-
sive feature to the presentation of and insistence on factual truths in the
political domain. In Arendt’s words: “Seen from the viewpoint of poli-
tics, truth has a despotic character. It is therefore hated by tyrants, who
rightly fear the competition of a coercive force they cannot monopo-
lize, and it enjoys a rather precarious status in the eyes of governments
that rest on consent and abhor coercion.” (ibid., 8) Though Arendt’s
references are to the European tyrants of Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy,
and the communist Soviet Union, one could easily project this view
onto the contemporary political atmosphere of Putin’s Russia, Orban’s
Hungary, Maduro’s Venezuela, Netanyahu’s Israel, Bolsonaro’s Brazil,
Erdogan’s Turkey, and Trump’s United States, to name but a few of
the authoritarian-leaning regimes in power today. The Trumpian mantra
of “fake news” reverberates across media outlets as if one were living
under Orwell’s fictionalized Big Brother and the Ministry of Truth. The
open hostility to a free press and the imprisonment of dissidents may
be more visible in Russia and Venezuela than in Israel and the United
States, but the vilification of protests by Trump as “riots” and demon-
strators as “radical thugs” bears the stamp of a leader with little tolerance
for dissent. Critics and whistleblowers in the United States are fired from
their government positions as co-conspirators of the “deep state.” The
very truth that is the goal of philosophers is itself said to have a “despotic
character” by these antidemocratic politicians. The appeal to a philosoph-
ical examination of truth claims is necessary for any political deliberation.
Without some ground rules and basic agreement on what counts as truth
and what differentiates one truth from another, it would be difficult to
communicate and administer public policies.
Since facts and their truthfulness “could always have been otherwise,”
as Arendt contends, they are open to manipulations, counterfactuals, and
outright lies and fabrications. (ibid., 9) This much was already asserted
above when quoting Quine and Foucault. Arendt pushes the point to
insist that, unlike the likes of Frankfurt (whom she does not address),
16 R. SASSOWER

“factual truth is no more self-evident than opinion,” and therefore

remains contestable and contested at every turn, lending opposing opin-
ions their own sense of legitimacy. (ibid., 10) Under these conditions,
“truthtellers,” as Arendt calls them, are bound to exercise their persua-
sive talents and thereby sway the opinions of others, perhaps to enjoy
their political support. (ibid., 12) Without the scrutiny of philosophers
and scientists, politicians like Trump exploit the problematic status of
“factual truth” to license themselves to say whatever they want. Allowing
lies to be used in statecraft, as Arendt concedes, may be temporary and
about specific national secrets or the appropriate deception of enemies,
but they are not on the level of the “noble lies” attributed to Plato as a
matter of course for the political elite. In other words, white lies uttered
by politicians for the sake of nudging public behavior in a pandemic, for
example, differ from outright falsehoods that sow division and engender
fear (claiming that the coronavirus will be eliminated quickly or have
minimal effect). But the attribution of the so-called noble lies to Plato as
an endorsement of misleading the public, Arendt insists, is a misreading
of the Greek, and that in no way did Plato give carte blanche permission
for political deception. (ibid., 19)
Arendt’s classification of different kinds of truth, factual and rational,
may shed light on the concerns voiced by Latour and Frankfurt in
relation to the truth of scientific facts that are both open for interpre-
tation and may yield putative consensus among researchers. Though in
Arendt’s binary, scientific facts are part of rational truths, one can see their
Kantian overlap with factual truths, those worthy of empirical contesta-
tion and critical scrutiny. The history of science offers ample evidence
that what were once considered scientific truths have been replaced with
others, at times contradictory, at other times complementary, but deci-
sively different. (Think of the geocentric versus the heliocentric view of
the universe, or leeches and bloodletting versus the use of antibiotics
in immunology.) This ongoing process of confirmation and falsification
does not relegate truth-bearing facts to the dustbin of opinions; instead,
it demands a more robust level of verification and legitimation, ever more
precise and exacting than was tolerated before. From outside the scientific
community and the community of academic researchers, this process may
appear unstable, confusing, contradictory, and prone to mischief. Plenty
of science studies scholars have pointed out the dangers of this process,
while other science studies critics have focused on its self-legitimating
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 17

protective walls. As we shall see in the next section, scientists and philoso-
phers of science distinguish between truths reached by convention and
those deserving universal consent when addressing philosophical concerns
over knowledge and truth. Just as there are different kinds of truth, there
are different kinds of lies that include mistakes and errors, dissimulation
and secrets, all the way to intentional and repeatable lies. (Derrida 2002)
Philosophers and scientists distinguish themselves from sophists and hacks
by arguing for the ongoing search for truth and the elimination of error.
In their minds, outright lying would shatter the delicate framework of
knowledge and truth production and therefore must be avoided at all
costs. Intentional and repeated deception attributed to the charge of
hypocrisy has no room in such a framework.

1.2 Critiques of Scientific Truths

Philosophers have traditionally considered themselves the custodians
holding the keys to the antechambers protecting truths from prejudices
and distortions, relying on the empirical data collected by the sciences
and the rigors of logical analyses. In their toolbox, one finds various
forms of critical analysis, the tools with which to collect data, transform
them into knowledge claims, and test their truth status. Yet, philosoph-
ical inquiry without critique risks being dogmatic or slipping into the
domain of rhetorical argumentation. As Theodor Adorno reminds us,
critique is essential for philosophy, in its search for truth and wisdom,
and for democracy insofar as it allows anyone to contest the claims of
those in power. In his words, the “critic becomes a divisive influence,
[or to use] a totalitarian phrase, a subversive” (1998, 283) insofar as
the status quo is challenged and sacred political institutions are called
upon to do better. The price of critique, in terms of divisiveness about
methodological norms and what counts as knowledge claims, can be
high: critique is not without risk. Whether Socratic or Spinozist, the
practice of critique may exact a price: sentenced to death (as a “subver-
sive”) after trial for the former, being excommunicated (as a “subversive”)
for the latter. The search for truth, then, is no idle preoccupation of
philosophers, but an urgent activity incumbent on those living in a
democracy. Adorno makes a further distinction “between responsible
critique, namely, that practiced by those who bear public responsibility,
and irresponsible critique, namely, that practiced by those who cannot be
held accountable for the consequences.” Between the two critiques, he
18 R. SASSOWER

notes, “critique is already neutralized.” (ibid., 285) Was Socrates’ critique

“responsible” in Adorno’s terms? Was he bearing “public responsibility”
as a private citizen who riled the youths of Athens? Or was it “irrespon-
sible” because he could not be “held accountable” for the consequences
of his agitation? In that sense, can critique ever be “responsible” insofar
as it cannot contain the effects of its provocation to disturb or destabilize
the status quo? In fact, Socrates was deemed irresponsible by his peers
and tried for the potential danger his critique posed. The very distinc-
tion between responsible and irresponsible critique, in Adorno’s analysis,
“neutralize[s]” critique because any moral attribution for its potential
consequences defangs its epistemic power. Shifting critique from ques-
tions of truth to questions of prudence is a neutralizing move, one that
undermines the power of critique to speak truth to power regardless of
consequences.
Adorno reminds his readers that “the truth content of critique alone
should be that authority [that decides if it is responsible],” but that when
such a criterion (of truth content) is “unilaterally invoked” by ideo-
logues, critique itself can lose its power and be at the mercy “of those
who oppose the critical spirit of a democratic society.” (ibid.) At stake
is not critique as such but its “truth content,” which in turn should
be the final arbiter about initially testing the validity of the critique by
philosophers, and eventually its acceptance by politicians and the public.
The “authority” of the critique in relying on its truth content, when
“invoked” by philosophers and politicians alike, suggests its legitimacy
regardless of those who “oppose the critical spirit of democratic society.”
Citing the Greek etymology of critique in krisis, Wendy Brown explains
that despite its bad reputation, critique is “the art of making distinctions,
an art considered essential to judging and rectifying an alleged disorder
in or of democracy.” (2005, 5) So, here we get the Foucauldian gesture
toward resistance, a resistance to (self-legitimating) claims of truthfulness
in political discourse, and a gesture toward the procedural and prudential
processes by which a “disorder” or crisis can be approached and perhaps
rectified. In Brown’s terms, adjudicating, assessing, and rendering judg-
ment for the sake of some kind of “restorative aim” might be a way
of moving from Socrates the gadfly to Adorno’s responsible critic, from
words to action. (ibid., 5–6)
Critique can accomplish this feat because it also “counters the distinctly
modern presumption of critique’s dependency on and involvement with
transcendent Truth,” (ibid., 7) whether this “transcendent Truth” is
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 19

beholden to Plato’s Theory of the Forms or the Hegelian World Spirit.

In short, Brown’s critical theory navigates between “normative moral
theory” and “utopian intellectual exercises,” both of which she deems
flawed since they are either too historically specific or completely ahis-
torical (in a universalizing sense). If this sounds ambitious, Foucault’s
guiding hand remains as steady as ever. Following his advice, Brown
argues that “critique, whether immanent, transcendent, genealogical, or
in yet some other form, is always a rereading and as such a reaffirma-
tion of that which it engages.” (ibid., 16) It is this commitment to the
value of “rereading and reaffirming” the ideas and hypotheses of scientists
that should be guiding (but sometimes are missing from) the practices
of science studies critics, as Latour has noted above. Admittedly, not all
science critics are well versed in the scientific literature and some lack the
technical expertise they could have mastered in order to critically engage
their targets. But this fact alone does not justify a wholesale attack on the
pursuit of rational and factual truths in the hands of science critics as if
they are all irresponsible.
Scientific truth claims and their generation by the scientific commu-
nity offer safeguards against frivolous skepticism, relativism, and outright
deception. Robert Merton (1973/1942) famously outlined the four
features of the scientific ethos as principles that characterize the ideal
workings of the scientific community: universalism, communism (commu-
nalism), disinterestedness, and organized skepticism. It is the last principle
that is relevant to the discussion of the truth-value of knowledge claims,
since it unequivocally demands an institutionalized mindset of puta-
tive rejection of any hypothesis or theory articulated by any community
member as true. The slippery political slope (authority, responsibility, and
legitimacy) is apparent in the scientific context: how is being on guard
against complacency different from being too skeptical to test any puta-
tive truth at all? Take the example of Al Gore, who in his An Inconvenient
Truth (2006) sounded the alarm about climate change. More than a
dozen years later we are still plagued by climate change deniers who
refuse to look at the evidence, suggesting instead that the standards of
science—from the collection of data in the North Pole to computer simu-
lations in labs—have not been sufficiently fulfilled (“questions remain”)
to hold humans responsible for the increase in the earth’s temperature.
Some climate skeptics explain their doubt about climate change in this
manner: “Consider someone like myself who was born in the midst of the
Cold War. In my lifetime, scientific predictions surrounding global climate
20 R. SASSOWER

change has [sic] veered from a deep frozen to an overheated version of the
apocalypse, based on a combination of improved data, models and, not
least, a geopolitical paradigm shift that has come to downplay the likeli-
hood of a total nuclear war. Why, then, should I not expect a significant, if
not comparable, alteration of collective scientific judgement in the rest of
my lifetime?” (Fuller 2018, 86) The seeds of doubt, as Descartes taught
us, can be sown anywhere, and they bear unexpected fruits, depending on
the context of their cultivation. Expecting improvements to the climate
change model does not entail that no (improved) model can be offered,
that methodological changes in themselves are a bad thing (they might be,
rather, improvements), or that one should not take action at all based on
the current model because in the future the model might change again.
Change—evolutionary, fractured, continuous, cumulative, or disruptive—
is what scientific processes are all about. When change is suspended—as
in petrified religious dogmas that abhor critique—cognitive atrophy sets
in and slow decay follows.
The Royal Society of London (1660) set the benchmark for scientific
credibility—what counts as factual truth—low when it accepted as scien-
tific evidence any report by two independent witnesses. As years went
by, testability (confirmation, for the Vienna Circle, falsification, for Karl
Popper) and repeatability were added as requirements for a report to
be considered scientific, and by now, various other conditions have been
proposed as well. Skepticism, organized or personal, remains at the very
heart of the scientific march toward certainty (or at least probability),
but when used perniciously, it has derailed reasonable attempts to use
science as a means by which to protect, for example, public health. Both
Robert Proctor (1995) and Michael Bowker (2003) chronicle cases where
asbestos and cigarette lobbyists and lawyers alike were able to introduce
enough doubt in the name of attenuated scientific data collection to ward
off for decades regulators, legislators, and the courts. Instead of finding
enough empirical evidence to explain the failing health condition (and
eventual death sentence) of workers and consumers attributed to asbestos
and nicotine consumption, organized skepticism was weaponized to fight
the sick and protect the interests of corporate giants and their insurers.
Instead of buttressing scientific claims (that have passed the tests—in
refereed professional conferences and publications, for example—of most
institutional scientific skeptics), organized skepticism has been manipu-
lated, exploited, and abused to ensure that no (legal) claim is ever true
enough or has the complete legitimacy of the scientific community. In
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 21

other words, what could have remained the reasonable cautionary tale
of a disinterested and communal activity (that could then be deemed
credible) has turned into a circus of fire-blowing clowns ready to burn
down the tent so as not to admit that paying customers were fooled
into a dangerous tent to begin with. Customers who get sick remain
confused, not realizing that just because the stakes (for scientific vali-
dation) have risen over the decades, this does not mean there are no
standards that can or should be met. Despite lobbyists’ and lawyers’
best efforts at derailment, courts eventually found cigarette companies
and asbestos manufacturers guilty of exposing workers and consumers to
deadly hazards, just as they are finding agribusiness giants, like Monsanto,
guilty of selling weed-killers that are carcinogenic.
If we add to this logic of doubt, which has been responsible for discred-
iting science and the conditions for proposing credible truth claims, a
bit of U.S. cultural history, a broader picture of the unintended conse-
quences of certain critiques of science can be discerned. Citing Kurt
Andersen (2017), Robert Darnton suggests that the Enlightenment’s
“rational individualism interacted with the older Puritan faith in the indi-
vidual’s inner knowledge of the ways of Providence, and the result was
a peculiarly American conviction about everyone’s unmediated access
to reality, whether in the natural world or the spiritual world. If we
believe it, it must be true.” (2018, 68) This way of thinking about
the truth—unmediated experiences and beliefs, unconfirmed observations
and personal opinions, and disregard for others’ experiences and beliefs—
continues what Richard Hofstadter (1962) dubbed America’s tradition
of “anti-intellectualism.” For Americans, this predates the republic and
is characterized by hostility toward the life of the mind (admittedly, at
the time, religious texts), critical thinking (self-reflection and the rules of
logic), and even literacy. This view claims that the heart (our emotions)
can more honestly lead us to the Promised Land, whether it is heaven on
earth in the Americas or the Christian afterlife; any textual interference
or reflective pondering is necessarily an impediment to be suspicious of
and avoided. This lethal combination of confidence in one’s own feeling
and righteous individualism brings about the kind of ignorance displayed
in full view by Trump. This mindset is similar to what psychologists call
“confirmation bias,” the view that we endorse what we already believe
to be true regardless of countervailing evidence. We find ourselves in
an era of “truthiness,” a term coined by talk-show host and comedian
Stephen Colbert and defined as “the conviction that what you feel to be
22 R. SASSOWER

true must be true.” This attitude flies in the face of a long philosophical
tradition that demands and expects one’s personal enlightenment to be
based on the “courage to know” and the ability to release oneself from
the “self-incurred tutelage” of others. (Kant 1784) However interpreted
later, the Hegelian, Marxist, and Frankfurt School traditions expected the
enlightenments to overcome the limits of faith, speculation, and supersti-
tion and become critical and self-reflexive enough to know the limits of
one’s enlightenment, one’s own knowledge claims. (Malloy 2004)
Surely, there is merit in asking for responsible critiques of science.
Weren’t many of these critiques meant to dethrone the unparalleled (and
in many cases unjustified) authority claimed in the name of science? This
was definitely the case, as Stephen Jay Gould argues (1999, Chapter 6),
during the racist exploitation of the “scientific method” to prove white
superiority. There is a long history of the abuse of science (regardless of
its ethos) for political purposes, justifying racist policies in the name of
science and the collection of empirical data. As Gould explains, critical
examination of the blatant violation of the scientific method could falsify
any truth claimed in the name of science. One has to know the scien-
tific method and not rely on the reports of charlatans. (ibid., Chapter 8)
One has to question the extent to which institutional safeguards and
self-policing by the scientific community (enumerated by Merton) were
followed by scientists and were familiar to the public. Many have raised
such objections. Jean-Françoise Lyotard (and Marx before him), warning
of the shortfalls of the scientific enterprise, points out the conflation of
power and money in the scientific vortex that legitimates whatever knowl-
edge production profit-maximizers desire. In other words, the critique
of scientific discourse was put on par with critiques of other discourses,
refusing to grant it privileged immunity. Whose credibility ought to be
challenged, and whose truth claims deserve special scrutiny? Can scien-
tific discourse be protected from critique if it is true, as Monya Baker
has reported, that “[m]ore than 70% of researchers have tried and failed
to reproduce another scientist’s experiments, and more than half have
failed to reproduce their own experiments”? (2016, 1) The beneficia-
ries of scientific research funding are mostly silent on these questions
about the problems (methodological and financial) of reproducing scien-
tific experiments. Baker’s report cites Nature’s survey of 1,576 researchers
and reveals “sometimes contradictory attitudes towards reproducibility.”
Although 52% of those surveyed agree that there is a significant “crisis
of reproducibility, less than 31% think that failure to reproduce published
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 23

results means that the result is probably wrong, and most say that they
still trust the published literature.” (ibid.) So, if science relies on repro-
ducibility as an essential feature of its legitimacy (and superiority over
other discourses), and if the results of reproducibility are so dismal, must
this discourse not be discredited? Is this question too indicting? One
answer, given by Hans Plesser (2018), suggests that there is a confu-
sion between the notions of repeatability (“same team, same experimental
setup”), replicability (“different team, same experimental setup”), and
reproducibility (“different team, different experimental setup”). If under-
stood properly with these different terms, it stands to reason that one
may not get the same results all the time and that this fact alone does not
discredit the scientific enterprise as a whole or undermine the scientific
ethos advocated by Merton.
Nuanced distinctions take us down a scientific rabbit-hole most critics
and post-truth advocates refuse to follow. These nuances are also lost on
a public that demands the bottom line of any inquiry in brief sound bites:
Is science scientific enough, or is it bunk? Is it trustworthy? Trumpian
political moves excel at rhetorical reductionism: set up false binaries so as
to steer the choice in particular, even if unreasonable ways (Scott 1988),
and repeat a falsehood often enough that people start believing it because
they heard it already somewhere before. Complete disregard for evidence-
based arguments is part of this mindset. And because sound individual
critical faculties are not a prerequisite for listening to or participating in
political discourse, post-truth may mean no truth, whatever the president
says is true, whatever officials persuade people is the case, or whatever
we get used to hearing. Critical questions about truth telling and the
role of responsible critique mentioned above are relevant here just as they
were in the case of scientific discourse. They become more urgent when
totalitarian moves (mentioned by Orwell and Arendt and practiced by
democratically elected presidents around the globe) conflate the polit-
ical and the scientific, erasing the presumed distinction—methodological
and institutional—between political and scientific discourses, between the
truths incessantly contested and those settled on for ideological purposes.
With such practices in mind, no wonder the presumed distinction itself
becomes murky and unworkable. Nonetheless, is the distinction worth
upholding?
Admitting that the distinction between discourses is not as clear and
stable as truth seekers would like it to be, and conceding the inevitable
discursive overlap between the scientific and the political (as in the case of
24 R. SASSOWER

philosophy and sophistry and in the ways Foucault explains power rela-
tions) does not entail conceding that anything being critically engaged
is thereby worthless. Discrediting a rigid distinction and navigating a
blurred one are different modes of exposition from the wholesale dismissal
of the usefulness of such a distinction when dealing with truth claims.
Discrediting science has become a welcome political distraction that can
be dated to the Reagan years of distrust of the government and its
experts and continues into the Trumpian age. More than just a distrac-
tion, however, it is an ideological pivot point that opens up the floodgates
to radical free-market logics, spanning from resource extraction and colo-
nial globalization to the relaxation of environmental regulations and the
exacerbation of wealth inequality. In the so-called marketplace of ideas,
the wealthy few compete unfairly and always win, while the many are
predestined to lose because they are poor or poorly funded. The original
intent of critical investigations by truth seekers has been hijacked by the
deliberate obfuscation of empirical data in the hands of corporate experts
and lobbyists whose power to do so is protected in the name of freedom
of speech, open competition, and democracy. (Sassower 2015) The epis-
temic intent of organized skepticism has been legally subverted to sow
doubt and defer as much as possible the financial and moral culpability of
corporate leaders. Neither the charge of outright public deception nor the
charge of hypocrisy (when appealing to “organized skepticism” as a tactic
for delaying the acceptance of scientific reports) deterred the lawyers and
lobbyists who fought a losing battle on behalf of the tobacco and asbestos
industries.

1.3 The Politics of Post-Truth

How do philosophers contribute to the climate of post-truth, where
blurring the lines of demarcation between truths and lies has become
commonplace? Over a century ago, Friedrich Nietzsche had a clear
answer: the truth is fabricated, even when produced by scientists. In his
short essay “On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense” (2006), he credits
humanity with mastering the “art of dissimulation,” an art that encour-
ages humans to deceive and lie. This art is accomplished by “wearing a
mask, hiding behind convention” so that it is bewildering “how an honest
and pure drive for truth could have arisen among them.” (2006, #1) It is
puzzling, from this perspective, how the ubiquity of human folly would
give rise to any interest in the truth. Nietzsche suggests that instead of
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 25

knowledge of the world, “we possess nothing but metaphors for things,”
because our knowledge claims are limited by the language we use. (ibid.)
“What then is truth?” he asks. His answer puts the quest for (factual)
truths in perspective: the truth is nothing but, in his words, a “movable
host of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms: in short, a sum
of human relations which have been poetically and rhetorically intensi-
fied, transferred, and embellished, and which, after long usage, seem to a
people to be fixed, canonical, and binding.” (ibid.) This characterization
of the truth must have inspired Ludwig Wittgenstein’s switch from his
view of the transparency accorded to the words we use to describe objects
(1999) to a more complex understanding of linguistic family resemblances
and the fluidity needed for the recognition of the contextual meaning of
language. (1958) It must have also indirectly affected the pragmatic move
Quine has declared about the empirical basis of philosophical truths (as
we have seen above).
For Nietzsche, “Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are
illusions—they are metaphors that have become worn out and have
been drained of sensuous force, coins which have lost their embossing
and are now considered as metal and no longer as coins.” (ibid.) If
truths are indeed illusions, and if humanity has forgotten that they
were all along nothing but “binding” metaphors (because conventionally
accepted), then of course these truths deserve to be critically examined.
The “investigator” of truths about nature is “at bottom” only “seeking
the metamorphosis of the world into man.” (ibid.) This is not the strong
epistemological claim that we fabricate the world itself and that there is
no “reality” outside our fabrication, but the more modest (Heraclitean)
claim that the seeker’s “method is to treat man as the measure of all
things.” (ibid.) As for science, Nietzsche continues, “all that we actually
know about these laws of nature is what we ourselves bring to them—
time and space, and therefore relationships of succession and number.”
(ibid.) In case one wonders what exactly Nietzsche means by the limits of
human knowledge and its scientific (factual) truth claims, he continues to
explain that “we produce these representations in and from ourselves with
the same necessity with which the spider spins.” (ibid.) The self-excreting
spider becomes the exemplar of spinning scientific webs, perhaps to catch
some truths about nature, perhaps to catch sustenance, perhaps to weave
a beautiful pattern with explanatory powers or one with no function at
all. Recalling the “honest Athenians,” Nietzsche concludes by saying that
“all of nature swarms around man as if it were nothing but a masquerade
26 R. SASSOWER

of the gods, who were merely amusing themselves by deceiving men in

all these shapes.” (ibid., 8)
Why does Nietzsche bring up the “masquerade of the gods” as an
amusement in “deceiving men”? Is it not difficult enough to have a
grasp of nature without being deliberately undermined in the process?
It seems naïve for philosophers and scientists to believe that if they care-
fully adhere to their methods when seeking the truth they can attain it,
because, as Nietzsche suggests, the gods would deceive them no matter
what. It is unclear why the gods would want to deceive humans, unless
Nietzsche uses this personification of the elusiveness of truth to underline
the inherent inferior epistemic power of humans by comparison. Elimi-
nating human failure or the failure of one’s methods will not guarantee
overcoming divine deception, that is, rising to the level of divine epis-
temic power. Instead, whatever is humanly known is circumscribed by
understanding the meaning of natural phenomena in human terms so
that the truth (about nature) is inherently “a movable host of metaphors,
metonymies, and anthropomorphisms.” Some observers and promoters
of the contemporary post-truth condition seem to follow this line of
thought as an excuse for not seeking the truth anymore. (Fuller 2018)
Instead of being the seekers of truth, thinkers who care about what and
how we think, that is, Nietzsche’s “investigators” and “geniuses of [truth]
construction,” philosophers are ridiculed by contemporary promoters of
post-truth as marketing hacks or sophists. Some would argue that the
criteria by which propositions are judged to be true or false are worthy of
debate, a sentiment apparent from Socrates to Nietzsche and Frankfurt.
With criteria in place (even if limited to a Nietzschean “convention”),
at least we know what we are arguing about, as these criteria (even
if contested) offer a starting point for critical scrutiny and communal
engagement. This, as Nietzsche would agree, is a task worth performing,
especially in the Trumpian age when multiple perspectives constitute the
public stage on which not only the gods have chosen to celebrate their
masquerade, but also politicians and their paid experts. It is much easier
to enjoy the masquerade than search for the truth.
In addition to debasing the work of philosophers and scientists, the
post-truth mindset cynically exploits the difficulty of searching for the
truth amidst the institutional skepticism that must accompany the collec-
tion of data and the construction of scientific models. It is one thing to
challenge a scientific hypothesis about astronomy because the evidence is
still unclear (as Stephen Hawkins did regarding his own theory of Black
 1 DEGREES OF TRUTH 27

Holes until his death), and quite another to compare it to astrology (and
give equal hearings to horoscope and Tarot card readers as to astrophysi-
cists). The claims that anyone knows as much as anyone else, that experts
can and should be ignored, and that any method of inquiry is as good
as any other, are practically unreasonable and logically invalid. But they
remain part of the Trumpian folklore and are supported by the likes of
James Surowiecki (2004) who recalls Francis Galton’s 1907 observation
that no matter how uninformed a crowd of people (at a country fair)
may be individually, collectively it can guess the correct weight of an ox
with great accuracy. (Average guess of 787 villagers was 1,197 lbs., while
the actual weight was 1,198 lbs.). As folk wisdom, this is charming; as
public policy, it is dangerous. Who would want a random group of people
deciding how to store nuclear waste, and where? Who would volunteer to
be subjected to the judgment of just any collection of people to decide on
the necessity of an appendectomy or a triple-bypass surgery? Even when
we endorse the view that we can collectively reach the truth, must we
not ask, by what criteria, according to what procedure, or under what
guidelines? Herd mentality, as Nietzsche already warned us, is problematic
at best and immoral at worst. This does not imply worshipping experts
and scorning all folk knowledge or having low regard for individuals and
their (potentially informative) opinions. Some of us warn our students
that simply having an opinion is not enough, that they need to substan-
tiate it, offer data or logically argue for it, know its provenance, and who
promoted it for what purposes before adopting it as their own, so as to be
wary of uninformed (even if well-meaning) individuals (and presidents)
whose gut dictates public policy. There is a difference between being
skeptical of expert advice and being suspicious of nonexperts, because
the former can defend themselves with data and experience while the
latter can only defend their right to an opinion, however misguided.
For those sanguine about the limits of knowledge and expertise, the past
two hundred years offer plenty of frightening examples of state terrorism
(already announced by Hegel in regard to the terror witnessed in France,
and Horkheimer and Adorno [2002] in regard to Nazi atrocities) that
illustrate in concrete form the limits of Enlightenment thinking. What
characterizes the Trumpian age is a cynical disregard of any boundary
conditions proposed by rational discourse and the reliance on evidence.
Personal attacks via Twitter replace the art of persuasion. Unfortunately,
this mindset has direct policy implications and it affects the entire globe
with unwarranted trade wars with allies and foes that cost domestic jobs
Another random document with
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dessus de ses forces, était venu lui rendre visite, et par la même
occasion exécuter un peu de besogne diplomatique le long de la
côte. Il y avait à peine assez de brise pour faire parcourir deux milles
à l’heure au Frobisher, et quand celui-ci pénétra dans la passe, le
silence de la terre se referma sur lui. De temps à autre ses vergues
gémissaient un peu, et le clapotis de l’eau sous son étrave répondait
à ce gémissement. La pleine lune se levait par-dessus les marigots
fumants, et l’amiral en le considérant oubliait Judson pour se livrer à
de plus doux souvenirs. Comme évoqués par cette disposition
d’esprit, arrivèrent sur la face argentée de l’eau les sons d’une
mandoline que l’éloignement rendait d’une douceur enchanteresse,
mêlés à des paroles invoquant une aimable Julie… une aimable
Julie et l’amour. Le chant se tut, et seul le gémissement des vergues
rompait le silence sur le grand navire.
La mandoline reprit, et le commandant, placé du côté sous le
vent de la passerelle, ébaucha un sourire qui se refléta sur les traits
du midship de timonerie. On ne perdait pas un mot de la chanson, et
la voix du chanteur était celle de Judson.

La semaine dernière dans notre rue il est venu un rupin,

Un élégant vieux blagueur qu’avait une vilaine toux.
Il avise ma bourgeoise, lui tire son huit-reflets
D’un air tout à fait distingué…

Et ainsi de suite jusqu’au dernier couplet. Le refrain fut repris par

plusieurs voix, et le midship de timonerie commença de battre la
mesure en sourdine avec son pied.

C’qu’on s’amuse ! criaient les voisins.

Comment vas-tu t’y prendre, Bill ?
As-tu acheté la rue, Bill ?
De rire ?… j’ai pensé en mourir
Quand je les ai expulsés dans la rue d’Old Kent.
 Ce fut le youyou de l’amiral, nageant en douceur, qui arriva au
beau milieu de ce joyeux petit concert d’après boire. Ce fut Judson,
la mandoline enrubannée pendue à son cou, qui reçut l’amiral quand
celui-ci escalada la muraille de la Guadala, et ce fut peut-être bien
aussi l’amiral qui resta jusqu’à trois heures du matin et réjouit les
cœurs du capitaine et du gouverneur. Il était venu en hôte indésiré,
mais il repartit en hôte honoré quoique toujours strictement non
officiel. Le lendemain, dans la cabine de l’amiral, Judson raconta son
histoire, en affrontant de son mieux les bourrasques de rire de
l’amiral ; mais l’histoire fut plus amusante encore, narrée par Davies
à ses amis dans l’arsenal de Simon Town, du point de vue d’un
ouvrier mécanicien de deuxième classe ignorant tout de la
diplomatie.
Et s’il n’y avait pas de véracité aussi bien dans mon récit, qui est
celui de Judson, que dans les racontars de Davies, on ne trouverait
certes pas aujourd’hui dans le port de Simon Town une canonnière à
fond plat et à deux hélices, destinée uniquement à la défense des
fleuves, d’environ deux cent soixante-dix tonnes de jauge et cinq
pieds de tirant d’eau, qui porte, au mépris des règlements du
service, un listel d’or sur sa peinture grise. Il s’ensuit également que
l’on est forcé de croire cette autre version de l’algarade qui, signée
par Son Excellence le gouverneur et transmise par la Guadala,
contenta l’amour-propre d’une grande et illustre nation, et sauva une
monarchie de ce despotisme inconsidéré qui a nom république.
 L’HISTOIRE DE BADALIA
HERODSFOOT

C’est le printemps de l’année

Et l’aurore du jour :
Il est sept heures du matin,
La colline est emperlée de rosée,
Le merle déploie ses ailes,
La limace rampe sur l’aubépine,
Dieu règne dans son ciel :
Tout va bien pour le monde !

Pippa passe.

Il ne s’agit pas de cette Badalia qui s’appelait aussi à l’occasion

Joanna la Lutteuse et MacKanna, comme dit la chanson, mais d’une
autre dame beaucoup plus distinguée.
Au début de son histoire, elle n’était pas encore régénérée : elle
portait cette lourde frange de cheveux bouffants qui fait la parure
d’une fille de marchande des quatre saisons, et la légende court
dans Gunnison street que, le jour de ses noces, un lampion dans
chaque main, elle exécuta des danses sur la charrette à bras d’un
amoureux évincé : un agent survint, et alors Badalia se fit acclamer
en dansant avec le représentant de l’ordre. Ce furent là ses jours
d’abondance, et ils ne durèrent pas longtemps, car au bout de deux
ans son mari prit une autre femme et sortit de l’existence de Badalia
en passant par-dessus le corps inanimé de cette dernière, dont il
avait étouffé les protestations par des coups. Tandis qu’elle jouissait
de son veuvage, l’enfant que son mari n’avait pas emmené mourut
du croup, et Badalia resta entièrement seule. Par une fidélité rare,
elle n’écouta aucune des propositions qu’on lui fit en vue d’un
second mariage, conformément aux mœurs de Gunnison street,
lesquelles ne diffèrent pas de celles des Barralong.
— Mon homme, expliquait-elle à ses prétendants, il va revenir un
de ces jours, et alors s’il me trouvait habitant avec vous, il y a bien
des chances qu’il s’emparerait de moi et me tuerait. Vous ne
connaissez pas Tom ; moi bien. Allez-vous-en donc. Je m’en tirerai
bien toute seule… puisque je n’ai pas de gosse.
Elle s’en tirait, grâce à une calandre à linge, en surveillant des
enfants, et en vendant des fleurs. Ce dernier métier nécessite un
capital, et entraîne les vendeuses très loin dans l’ouest, si bien que
le trajet de retour, mettons depuis le passage Burlington jusqu’à
Gunnison street (Est) est un prétexte à boire, et alors, comme le
faisait ressortir Badalia, « vous rentrez chez vous avec la moitié de
votre châle arrachée qui pend sur votre dos, et votre bonnet sous
votre bras, et la valeur de rien du tout dans votre poche, à plus forte
raison si un flic a pris soin de vous ». Badalia ne buvait pas, mais
elle connaissait ses consœurs, et leur donnait de frustes
exhortations. A part cela, elle ne s’occupait pas des autres, et
songeait toujours beaucoup à Tom Herodsfoot, son mari, qui
reviendrait un jour, et à l’enfant qui ne reviendrait jamais. On ne peut
savoir de quelle façon ces pensées influèrent sur son esprit.
Son entrée dans la société date du soir où elle surgit littéralement
sous les pieds du révérend Eustace Hanna, sur le palier du numéro
17 de Gunnison street, et lui démontra sa sottise de répartir sans
discernement ses charités dans le quartier.
— Vous donnez des flans à Lascar Lou, lui dit-elle sans autre
forme de présentation, vous lui donnez du vin de « porco ». Allez
donc ! Vous lui donnez des couvertures. Allez donc ! Sa mère elle
mange tout, et boit les couvertures. Quand vous êtes pour revenir la
visiter, elle les dégage du clou, de façon à les avoir toutes prêtes et
en bon état ; et Lascar Lou elle vous dit : « Oh ! ma mère est si
bonne pour moi ! » qu’elle dit. Lascar Lou a raison de parler ainsi, vu
qu’elle est malade au lit, autrement sa mère la tuerait. Bon Dieu !
vous êtes un fameux jobard… avec vos flans ! Lascar Lou n’en a
même pas l’odeur.
Là-dessus le curé, au lieu de se formaliser, reconnut dans les
yeux embusqués sous la frange de cheveux, l’âme d’une collègue
en la tâche. Il pria donc Badalia de monter la garde auprès de
Lascar Lou, la prochaine fois que viendraient confiture ou flan, pour
veiller à ce que la malade les mangeât réellement. Ce que fit
Badalia, au scandale de la mère de Lascar Lou et moyennant la
répartition d’un œil au beurre noir entre elles trois ; mais Lascar Lou
eut son flan, et en toussant de bon cœur elle s’amusa plutôt de
l’algarade.
Par la suite, en partie grâce au révérend Eustace Hanna, qui
avait vite reconnu ses talents, et en partie grâce à certaines histoires
débitées avec larmes et rougeur par sœur Eva, la plus jeune et la
plus sensible des Petites Sœurs du Diamant Rouge, il advint que
cette Badalia arrogante, coiffée à la chien, et totalement inexperte en
l’art de la parole, conquit un rang honorable parmi ceux-là qui
œuvrent dans Gunnison street.
Ils formaient une confrérie mêlée, de gens zélés ou
sentimentaux, et suivant leurs lumières, découragés ou seulement
très las de lutter contre la misère. La plupart étaient consumés de
mesquines rivalités et de jalousies personnelles, que chacun
ressassait en confidence à sa propre petite chapelle, en guise
d’intermède d’avoir lutté avec la mort pour lui arracher le corps d’une
blanchisseuse moribonde, ou de s’être ingénié à tirer de la mission
un subside pour ressemeler les bottes très malades d’un
compositeur non moins malade. Il y avait un curé qui vivait dans la
crainte de réduire les pauvres à la pauvreté, qui aurait volontiers
tenu des bazars de charité pour s’offrir des nappes d’autel neuves,
et qui priait Dieu en secret de lui envoyer un grand oiseau de cuivre
neuf, avec des yeux de verre rouge que l’on aime à prendre pour
des rubis. Il y avait frère Victor, de l’ordre du Petit Bien-Être, qui s’y
connaissait fort bien en nappes d’autel, mais qui se gardait de
montrer ce savoir lorsqu’il s’agissait d’attendrir Mme Jessel, la
secrétaire du Comité de la Tasse de Thé, laquelle avait de l’argent à
dépenser, mais qui haïssait l’Église de Rome… même si Rome, par
égard pour elle, prétendait uniquement à emplir les estomacs,
laissant les âmes à la merci de Mme Jessel. Il y avait toutes les
Petites Sœurs du Diamant Rouge, les filles du vétérinaire, qui
s’écriaient : « Donnez » quand leur charité propre était épuisée, et
qui expliquaient tristement à ceux qui en retour d’un demi-louis leur
demandaient une justification de leurs débours, que les œuvres de
secours dans un mauvais quartier ne peuvent guère tenir de
comptes réguliers sans une coûteuse augmentation de leur état-
major. Il y avait le révérend Eustace Hanna, qui coopérait
indistinctement avec les Comités de dames patronesses, avec les
ligues et associations mixtes, avec frère Victor, et avec n’importe qui
d’autre susceptible de lui donner de l’argent, des souliers ou des
couvertures, ou cette aide plus précieuse encore qui se laisse diriger
par ceux qui savent. Et tous ces gens apprirent l’un après l’autre à
consulter Badalia, quand il s’agissait de questions d’un caractère
intime, de droit au secours, et des espoirs de conversion possible
dans Gunnison street. Ses réponses étaient rarement réjouissantes,
mais elle possédait un savoir spécial et une parfaite confiance en
elle-même.
— J’en suis, de Gunnison street, disait-elle à l’austère Mme
Jessel. Je sais ce que c’est, moi, et ils n’ont pas besoin de votre
religion, m’âme, pas pour un… Excusez-moi. C’est très joli quand ils
sont prêts à mourir, m’âme, mais jusque-là ce qu’il leur faut c’est à
manger. Les hommes, ils se débrouillent tout seuls. C’est pourquoi
Nick Lapworth il vous dit qu’il veut recevoir la confirmation et tout ça.
Il ne veut aucunement mener une vie nouvelle, pas plus que sa
femme ne profite de tout l’argent que vous lui donnez à lui. On ne
saurait non plus les réduire à la pauvreté, puisqu’ils n’ont déjà rien
pour commencer. Ils sont sacrément bien pauvres. Les femmes,
elles ne peuvent pas s’en tirer toutes seules… d’autant qu’elles sont
toujours à accoucher. Comment feraient-elles ? Elles n’ont besoin
que des choses qu’elles peuvent avoir. Si elles ne peuvent pas elles
meurent, et ce n’est pas plus mal, car les femmes sont cruellement
tyrannisées dans Gunnison street.
Après cette conversation, Mme Jessel demanda au curé :
— Croyez-vous que Mme Herodsfoot soit vraiment une personne
à qui l’on puisse confier des fonds ? Elle paraît totalement ignorer
Dieu, en ses propos du moins.
Le curé fut d’accord avec Mme Jessel pour reconnaître que
Badalia ignorait Dieu ; mais Mme Jessel ne pensait-elle pas que,
puisque Badalia connaissait Gunnison street et ses besoins mieux
que quiconque, elle pourrait, à sa modeste manière, être pour ainsi
dire la relaveuse d’une charité provenant de sources plus pures, et
que si, mettons, le Comité de la Tasse de Thé pouvait donner
quelques shillings par semaine, et les Petites Sœurs du Diamant
Rouge quelques autres encore, le total, qui ne serait
vraisemblablement pas excessif, pourrait être remis à Badalia,
laquelle le distribuerait parmi ses collègues ? Mme Jessel elle-même
serait ainsi libre de pourvoir plus directement aux besoins spirituels
de tels robustes gaillards qui siégeaient pittoresquement sur les
gradins inférieurs de ses réunions où ils cherchaient la vérité…
laquelle est tout aussi précieuse que l’argent, quand on sait où la
négocier.
— Elle favorisera ses amis personnels, objecta Mme Jessel.
Le curé réprima un sourire, et après quelques diplomatiques
flatteries, remporta la victoire. Badalia fut, à son indicible fierté,
nommée dispensatrice d’un subside… un dépôt hebdomadaire qui
devait servir pour le bien de Gunnison street.
— Je ne sais ce que nous pouvons réunir par semaine, lui dit le
curé. Mais pour débuter voici dix-sept shillings. Vous les distribuerez
parmi vos voisins comme vous l’entendrez, vous me direz seulement
où nous en sommes, afin de ne pas nous embrouiller dans nos
comptes. Vous comprenez ?
 — Bien sûr. Mais dites, ce n’est pas grand’chose, fit Badalia en
considérant les pièces blanches dans le creux de sa main. (Le feu
sacré des administrateurs, que connaissent ceux-là seuls qui ont
goûté du pouvoir, brûlait dans ses artères.) Des bottines, c’est des
bottines, quand on ne vous en fait pas cadeau, et alors elles ne sont
plus bonnes à porter que si on les fait raccommoder du haut en bas ;
et des confitures c’est des confitures ; et j’en estime pas beaucoup
ce « porco » à bon marché, mais tout ça se monte quand même à
une somme. Dix-sept shillings, ça filera vite, plus vite qu’un quart de
gin… Mais je vais tenir un livre… comme je faisais avant que Tom
soit parti dans l’immeuble Hennessy avec sa catin barbouillée. Lui et
moi nous étions les seuls patrons de bar à tenir des livres en règle.
Elle acheta un grand cahier de devoirs — il fallait de la place à
son écriture malhabile — et elle y consigna l’historique de sa guerre ;
hardiment, comme il sied à un général, et pour nuls autres yeux que
les siens et ceux du révérend Eustace Hanna. Bien avant que les
feuillets fussent remplis, la couverture marbrée avait été imbibée de
pétrole… car la mère de Lascar Lou, frustrée de son pourcentage
sur les flans de sa fille, pénétra dans l’appartement de Badalia, au
17 de Gunnison street, et se crêpa le chignon avec elle, aux dépens
de la lampe et de sa propre tignasse. Il était d’ailleurs malaisé de
porter d’une main le précieux « porco » et de l’autre le cahier, dans
une région sempiternellement assoiffée ; et des taches rouges
s’ajoutèrent à celles d’huile minérale. Mais lorsqu’il examinait le
contenu du livre, le révérend Eustace Hanna ne s’en plaignait
jamais. Les vaillants griffonnages s’exprimaient pour leur compte, et
le samedi soir Badalia ajoutait à leurs notations des commentaires
dans ce goût :
« Mme Hikky, très mal, cognac trois pence. Fiacre pour l’hôpital,
un shilling. Mme Poune accouchée. En espèces pour du thé (elle l’a
pris, monsieur, je l’ai vu) six pence. Rencontré dehors son mari qui
cherchait du travail. »
— J’ai flanqué ma main sur la figure à ce bougre de fainéant ! Il
l’est trop pour obtenir jamais du travail… Excusez-moi, monsieur.
Vous voulez continuer ?
 Le curé poursuivit :
« Mme Vincent. Accouchée. Pas de langes pour l’enfant. Très
sale. En espèces deux shillings six pence. Reçu des draps de Mlle
Eva. »
— C’est sœur Eva qui a fait cela ? demanda le curé très
doucement.
Car si sœur Eva était tenue par devoir à la charité, il y avait
quelqu’un qui voyait dans tout acte de sa tâche journalière une
manifestation de grâce et de bonté angéliques… une chose digne de
perpétuelle admiration.
— Oui, monsieur. Elle est retournée à la maison des sœurs et a
pris les draps à son lit à elle. Même qu’ils ont de bien belles initiales.
Continuez, monsieur… Cela fait déjà quatre shillings six pence.
« Mme Jennet, pour faire du bon feu, le charbon est cher : sept
pence. Mme Lockhart a pris un bébé en nourrice pour gagner un petit
quelque chose, mais la mère ne peut pas payer, son mari la gruge
tout le temps. Il ne veut pas l’aider. En argent deux shillings deux
pence. A travaillé comme cuisinière, mais a dû cesser. Feu, thé,
cuisse de bœuf, un shilling sept pence et demi. »
— Ici on s’est battu, ajouta Badalia. Ce n’est pas moi, monsieur.
Son mari, comme juste, il est entré au mauvais moment, il a voulu
avoir le bœuf, aussi j’appelle les gens d’au-dessus et voilà que
descend ce mulâtre qui vend des cannes à épée en haut de Ludgate
Hill. « Mulay, que je lui dis, espèce de gros animal noir, attrape-moi
ce gros animal blanc ici et démolis-le. » Je savais que je n’aurais pas
pu retenir Tom Lockhart à moitié saoul qui emportait le bœuf. « Je
vais lui en flanquer du bœuf », que répond Mulay. Et il tape dessus,
tandis que cette pauvre femme poussait des cris dans la chambre à
côté, et la rampe du palier est cassée, mais elle a eu son bouillon et
Tom a pris sa purge. Voulez-vous continuer, monsieur ?
— Non, ça va bien. Je vais signer pour la semaine, répondit le
prêtre.
Tant on s’habitue à ces choses que les profanes appellent
documents humains.
 — Le petit de Mme Churner a attrapé le croup, dit Badalia
s’apprêtant à sortir.
— Quels Churner ? Ceux de l’allée du Peintre, ou les autres de
Houghton street ?
— Ceux de Houghton street. Ceux de l’allée du Peintre ont vendu
et déménagé.
— Sœur Eva passe une nuit par semaine auprès de la vieille Mme
Probyn, de Houghton street, n’est-ce pas ? demanda le prêtre avec
inquiétude.
— Oui, mais elle n’ira plus. C’est moi qui me suis chargée de Mme
Probyn. Je ne sais pas lui parler de religion, mais elle n’en a pas
besoin, et Mlle Eva elle n’a pas besoin d’attraper le croup, elle a
beau dire. N’ayez pas peur pour elle.
— Mais vous… vous pourriez l’attraper, dites ?
— C’est possible. (Elle regarda le prêtre entre les yeux, et les
siens flamboyèrent sous ses frisons.) Et ça me ferait peut-être plaisir
de l’attraper, vous n’en savez rien.
Le prêtre réfléchit un moment à ces paroles, mais il évoqua
l’image de sœur Eva dans sa cape grise et avec sa cornette aux
brides blanches nouées sous le menton. Alors il cessa de penser à
Badalia.
Ce que pensait Badalia ne se formula point en paroles, mais il
est notoire dans Gunnison street que ce soir-là, trouvant la mère de
Lascar Lou installée ivre-morte sur son seuil, Badalia la saisit et
l’emporta dans la nuée guerrière de son ire, si bien que la vieille ne
savait plus si elle était sur les pieds ou sur la tête, et après l’avoir
dûment heurtée à chaque marche successive de l’escalier menant à
sa chambre, Badalia la déposa sur son lit, où elle resta à geindre et
frissonner jusqu’au jour, affirmant que tout le monde était contre elle,
et invoquant les noms de ses enfants tués depuis longtemps par la
saleté et la misère. Badalia, grondante, partit en guerre, et comme
les armées de l’ennemi étaient nombreuses, trouva une besogne
suffisante à la tenir occupée jusqu’au jour.
 Comme elle l’avait annoncé, elle prit Mme Probyn sous son égide
personnelle, et pour commencer faillit donner une attaque à cette
vieille dame, en lui déclarant : « Peut-être bien qu’il n’y a pas de bon
Dieu, mais s’il y en a un, il ne s’occupe pas plus de vous que de moi,
et en attendant prenez cette confiture. » Sœur Eva se plaignit d’être
écartée de sa pieuse tâche de Houghton street, mais Badalia tint
bon, et tant par son éloquence que par la promesse de futurs
bienfaits, elle persuada trois ou quatre hommes du voisinage
d’interdire la porte à sœur Eva chaque fois qu’elle tentait de
pénétrer, en alléguant le croup comme excuse.
— J’ai décidé de la tenir à l’abri du mal, dit Badalia, et elle y est.
Le curé se fiche de moi comme d’une guigne, mais… il ne voudrait
quand même pas.
Cette quarantaine eut pour effet de reporter sur d’autres rues la
sphère d’activité de sœur Eva, et en particulier sur celles que
fréquentaient surtout le révérend Eustace Hanna et frère Victor, de
l’ordre du Petit Bien-Être. Il existe, malgré toutes leurs bisbilles
humaines, une très étroite confraternité dans les rangs de ceux dont
la tâche comprend Gunnison street. Pour commencer ils ont vu la
souffrance… une souffrance que leurs paroles et leurs actions sont
incapables d’alléger… la vie livrée à la mort, et la mort envahie par
une vie misérable. Ils comprennent également la pleine signification
de l’ivrognerie, ce qui est un savoir caché à beaucoup de gens très
bien intentionnés, et plusieurs d’entre eux ont lutté avec les bêtes à
Éphèse. Ils se retrouvent à des heures et en des lieux également
indus, échangent quelques mots hâtifs d’avis, de recommandation
ou de conseil, et s’en vont à leur labeur désigné, car le temps est
précieux, et cinq minutes d’avance peuvent sauver une vie. Pour
beaucoup, les réverbères sont leur soleil, et les camions de Covent
Garden [38] le char de l’aurore. Ils ont tous en leur situation
quémandé de l’argent, si bien que la franc-maçonnerie de la
mendicité leur est un lien commun.
[38] Le principal marché aux légumes de Londres.
 A toutes ces influences s’ajoutait, dans le cas de nos deux
tâcherons, ce sentiment que l’on est convenu d’appeler l’amour.
L’idée que sœur Eva pût attraper le croup n’était pas encore entrée
dans la tête du curé avant que Badalia lui en eût parlé. Après cela, il
jugea inadmissible et monstrueux qu’elle pût être exposée, non
seulement à ce risque, mais à n’importe quel autre danger de la rue.
Un camion débouchant d’un coin pouvait la tuer ; l’escalier vermoulu
où elle circulait jour et nuit pouvait s’effondrer et l’estropier ; les
instables corniches de telles maisons louches qu’il connaissait trop
constituaient un danger ; et il y en avait un autre plus grave à
l’intérieur de ces maisons. Que deviendrait-il, si l’un de ces mille
ivrognes abolissait la précieuse existence ? Une femme avait un jour
jeté une chaise à la tête du curé. Sœur Eva n’avait pas le bras assez
robuste pour se protéger d’une chaise. Les couteaux également
étaient prompts à entrer en jeu. Ces considérations et d’autres
encore jetaient l’âme du révérend Eustace Hanna dans un tourment
que nulle foi en la Providence ne pouvait alléger. Sans doute Dieu
était grand et terrible… on n’avait qu’à parcourir Gunnison street
pour s’en apercevoir… mais il vaudrait mieux, beaucoup mieux, que
sœur Eva eût la protection de son bras à lui. Et les personnes qui
n’étaient pas trop affairées pour regarder, auraient pu voir une
femme, plus très jeune, aux cheveux ternes et aux yeux ternes,
quelque peu autoritaire dans ses discours, et très ignorante dans les
idées situées au delà de la sphère immédiate de son devoir, à la
même place où les yeux du révérend Eustace Hanna suivaient les
pas d’une reine couronnée d’une petite cornette grise, aux brides
blanches nouées sous le menton.
Apercevait-il un instant cette cornette au fond d’une cour, ou lui
adressait-elle un signe amical du haut d’un escalier, alors il voyait
encore de l’espoir pour Lascar Lou, qui vivait avec un seul poumon
et du souvenir de ses débauches passées ; il voyait de l’espoir
même pour cette geignarde chiffe de Nick Lapworth, qui se jurait,
dans l’espoir d’obtenir de l’argent, tenaillé par les affres d’une « vraie
conversion cette fois-ci, Dieu le veuille, monsieur ». Si cette cornette
passait un jour sans se montrer, l’imagination du prêtre s’emplissait
de poignantes scènes d’horreur ; il voyait des civières, une foule
rassemblée à quelque sinistre carrefour, et un agent de police — il
l’aurait dessiné, cet agent — débitant par-dessus l’épaule les détails
de l’accident, et ordonnant à l’homme qui avait tenté de s’opposer
aux roues — de lourdes roues de camion : il les aurait dessinées —
de « circuler ». Ces jours-là il n’espérait plus guère dans le salut de
Gunnison street et de tous ses habitants.
Cette torture, frère Victor en fut le témoin, un jour où il revenait
du chevet d’un mort. Il vit l’œil du prêtre s’éclairer, les muscles de sa
bouche se détendre, et entendit se raffermir sa voix qui toute la
matinée était demeurée atone. Sœur Eva venait de reparaître dans
Gunnison street, après une interminable absence de quarante-huit
heures. Elle n’avait pas été écrasée. Il fallait que le cœur de frère
Victor eût souffert dans son humanité, ou sinon il n’aurait pu voir ce
qu’il vit. Mais la loi de son Église rendait la souffrance légère. Son
devoir était de poursuivre sa tâche jusqu’à sa mort, ni plus ni moins
que Badalia. Celle-ci, élargissant son rôle, affrontait le mari ivre,
induisait à un peu plus de prévoyance la trop jeune épouse,
prodigue et sans volonté, et quand l’occasion s’en présentait,
mendiait des vêtements pour les bébés scrofuleux qui se
multipliaient comme l’écume verte sur l’eau d’une citerne sans
couvercle.
L’histoire de ses exploits était consignée dans le cahier que le
curé signait chaque semaine, mais jamais plus Badalia ne lui parlait
de batailles ni de rixes dans la rue. « Mlle Eva fait son travail à sa
manière. Je fais le mien à la mienne. Mais j’en fais dix fois plus que
Mlle Eva, et tout ce qu’il me dit, c’est : « Je vous remercie, Badalia,
ça ira pour cette semaine. » Je me demande ce que Tom fabrique
maintenant avec sa… sa nouvelle femme. J’ai presque envie d’aller
le voir un de ces jours. Mais à elle, je lui arracherais le foie… Je ne
pourrais m’en empêcher. Vaut mieux ne pas y aller, peut-être. »
L’immeuble Hennessy se trouvait à plus de trois kilomètres de
Gunnison street, et servait de logement à peu près au même genre
de monde. Tom s’y était installé avec Jenny Wabstow, sa nouvelle
femme. Durant des semaines, il vécut dans une grande crainte de
voir Badalia lui tomber dessus à l’improviste. La perspective d’une
bonne bataille ne l’effrayait pas, mais il répugnait à la correctionnelle
qui s’ensuivrait, et à l’ordonnance de pension alimentaire et autres
inventions d’une justice qui ne veut pas comprendre cette loi
pourtant simple, que quand un homme est fatigué d’une femme, il
n’est n. d. D. pas si bête que de continuer à vivre avec elle, et voilà
tout ». Durant quelques mois, sa nouvelle femme se comporta fort
bien, et sut se faire craindre de Tom, suffisamment pour le maintenir
rangé. D’ailleurs le travail abondait. Mais un enfant leur naquit, et
conformément à la règle de ses pareils, Tom, peu soucieux des
enfants qu’il aidait à procréer, chercha une diversion dans la
boisson. Il se cantonnait, en général, dans la bière, laquelle est
stupéfiante et relativement inoffensive : du moins elle paralyse les
jambes, et avec elle, même si l’on a au cœur un désir ardent de tuer,
le sommeil vient vite, et le crime reste souvent inaccompli. L’alcool,
étant plus volatil, permet à la chair et à l’âme de travailler de
concert… Habituellement au préjudice d’autrui. Tom découvrit que le
whisky avait ses mérites… à condition d’en prendre assez. Il en prit
autant qu’il en pouvait acheter ou obtenir, et à l’époque où sa femme
fut en état de circuler à nouveau, les deux pièces de leur
appartement étaient déjà dépouillées de maints objets de valeur. La
femme alors lui dit son fait, non pas une fois, mais plusieurs, avec
précision, abondance et métaphore ; et Tom se révolta de n’avoir
plus la paix au bout de sa journée de travail, laquelle comportait une
forte absorption de whisky. Ce pourquoi il se priva de la compagnie
de Jenny et de ses blandices. Tom finit par lui tenir tête et la
frappa… parfois sur le crâne, et parfois à la poitrine, et les
meurtrissures formèrent matière aux commentaires échangés sur les
seuils par les femmes que leurs maris avaient traitées de façon
analogue. Elles n’étaient pas peu nombreuses.
Mais nul scandale bien public ne s’était produit jusqu’au jour où
Tom jugea convenable d’ouvrir les négociations avec une jeune
femme en vue d’un mariage conforme aux lois de la libre sélection. Il
commençait à être très las de Jenny, et la jeune femme gagnait, à
vendre des fleurs, suffisamment pour lui assurer le bien-être, tandis
que Jenny attendait un autre bébé, et fort déraisonnablement croyait
de ce fait avoir droit à des égards. Il s’insurgeait de la voir difforme,
et il le lui déclara dans le langage de ses pareils. Jenny pleura tant,
que Mme Hart, descendante directe et Irlandaise de « la mère à Mike
de la charrette à âne », l’arrêta sur son escalier à elle et lui glissa
tout bas :
— Que Dieu te bénisse, ma fille, car je vois comment cela va
pour toi.
Jenny pleura de plus belle et donna à Mme Hart deux sous et des
baisers, cependant qu’au coin de la rue Tom faisait sa cour à sa
belle.
Ce soir-là, poussée par l’orgueil et non par la vertu, la jeune
femme révéla à Jenny les propositions de Tom, et Jenny eut un
entretien avec ce dernier. L’altercation débuta dans leur appartement
à eux, mais Tom voulut s’esquiver, et à la fin tout l’immeuble
Hennessy se rassembla sur la chaussée et forma un tribunal auquel
en appelait de temps à autre Jenny, les cheveux épars sur le cou,
les nippes dans le plus grand désordre, et les jambes flageolantes
d’ivresse. « Quand on a un homme qui boit, on n’a plus qu’à boire
aussi. Alors ça fait moins de mal quand il vous frappe », dit la
Sagesse des Femmes. Et à coup sûr elles doivent s’y connaître.
— Regardez-le ! glapissait Jenny. Regardez-le, rester là sans
trouver un mot à dire pour sa défense, et il voudrait ficher le camp et
m’abandonner sans même me laisser un shilling ! Tu te dis un
homme… tu oses, n. d. D., te dire un homme ? Mais j’en ai vu de
meilleurs que toi faits de papier mâché et recraché ensuite.
Regardez-le ! Il n’a pas dessaoulé depuis jeudi dernier, et il ne
dessaoulera pas aussi longtemps qu’il pourra se procurer à boire. Il
m’a pris tout ce que j’avais, et moi… moi… vous me voyez.
Murmure de compassion chez les femmes.
— Il a tout pris, tout, et pour comble, après avoir chapardé et
volé… oui, toi, toi, voleur !… il s’en va et cherche à se mettre avec
cette… (Suivit un portrait complet et détaillé de la jeune femme, qui
heureusement n’était pas là pour l’entendre.) Il la traitera comme il
m’a traitée ! Il lui boira, n. d. D., jusqu’à son dernier sou, et puis il la
plantera là, comme il me fait à moi. O Mesdames, voyez, je lui ai
donné un gosse et il y en a un autre en train, et il voudrait filer et me
lâcher dans l’état où je suis maintenant… ce salop. Ah ! tu peux me
quitter, va ! je n’ai pas besoin des restes de ta g… Va-t’en. Trotte-toi !
La colère qui l’étranglait lui ôta la voix. Tom cherchait à se défiler,
lorsque survint un agent, attiré par la foule.
— Regardez-le, dit Jenny, heureuse d’avoir ce nouvel auditeur.
Est-ce qu’il n’y a pas de justice pour des gens comme lui ? Il a pris
tout mon argent, il m’a battue une fois, deux fois et plus. Il est saoul
comme porc quand il n’est pas saoul furieux, et maintenant le voilà
qui cherche à ramasser une autre femme. Lui, je n’en veux plus, je
trouverai un homme quatre fois meilleur. Mais il n’y a donc pas de
justice ?
— Allons, voyons, que se passe-t-il ? demanda l’agent. Rentrez
chez vous. Je vais m’occuper de cet homme. Est-ce qu’il vous a
frappée ?
— S’il m’a frappée ? Il m’a fendu le cœur en deux, et il reste là à
rigoler comme si tout cela était une comédie pour lui.
— Rentrez chez vous et couchez-vous un peu.
— Je suis une femme mariée, que je vous dis, et je veux mon
mari.
— Je ne lui ai pas fait le moindre mal, bon Dieu ! dit Tom, des
confins de la foule.
Il sentait l’opinion publique se tourner contre lui.
— Tu ne m’as pas fait le moindre mal, espèce de salop. Je suis
une femme mariée, moi, et je ne veux pas qu’on m’enlève mon
mari !
— Alors, puisque vous êtes une femme mariée, couvrez vos
seins, dit avec bonhomie l’agent, familiarisé avec les querelles
domestiques.
— Je ne les couvrirai pas… Vous en avez du toupet. Tenez,
regardez !
 Elle arracha son corsage lacéré et exhiba ces ecchymoses en
forme de croissant que l’on obtient à l’aide d’un dossier de chaise
bien appliqué.
— Voilà ce qu’il m’a fait parce que mon cœur ne se brisait pas
assez vite. Il a cherché à l’atteindre et à me le briser. Regarde ça,
Tom, ce que j’ai reçu de toi la nuit dernière, et je te l’ai rendu. Mais je
ne savais pas encore ce que tu voulais faire avec cette femme.
— Est-ce que vous portez plainte ? demanda l’agent. Il attrapera
sans doute un mois pour cela.
— Non, répliqua Jenny résolument.
Ce n’était pas la même chose, d’exposer son homme à la risée
de la rue, ou de le faire mettre en prison.
— Alors, rentrez vous coucher. Et vous autres (ceci à la foule)
dégagez-moi la chaussée… Circulez. Il n’y a pas de quoi rire.
Et s’adressant à Tom, que ses amis encourageaient :
— Vous avez de la chance qu’elle ne porte pas plainte, mais
rappelez-vous bien que la prochaine fois…
Et ainsi de suite.
Tom n’apprécia pas du tout la magnanimité de Jenny, et ses amis
ne contribuèrent pas à le calmer. Il avait cogné sur cette femme
parce qu’elle était un fléau. Pour la même raison également il avait
choisi une nouvelle compagne. Et toutes ses amabilités envers elle
avaient abouti à une scène vraiment pénible sur la rue, une honte
publique très injustifiée, provoquée par sa femme et l’atteignant, et
une certaine perte de prestige — il s’en rendait vaguement compte
— auprès de ses pairs. Conclusion : toutes les femmes étaient des
fléaux, et conclusion également : le whisky était une bonne chose.
Ses amis le plaignirent. Peut-être avait-il traité sa femme plus
durement qu’elle ne le méritait, mais son odieuse conduite sous le
coup de la colère justifiait toutes les injures.
— A ta place, je ne voudrais plus avoir rien de commun avec
elle… une femme comme celle-là, dit un des consolateurs.
 — Qu’elle s’en aille trimer pour elle-même, bon Dieu ! On se
décarcasse jusqu’aux moelles pour leur enfourner le manger dans la
bouche, tandis qu’elles restent à la maison tout le long du jour à ne
rien faire ; et la toute première fois, remarquez, qu’on a un rien de
dispute, ce qui convient d’ailleurs très bien à un homme qui est un
homme, elle se rebiffe et vous jette à la rue, vous traitant de Dieu
sait tout quoi. Est-ce juste, voyons, je vous le demande ?
Ainsi parla le deuxième consolateur.
Le troisième fut le whisky, dont la suggestion parut à Tom la
meilleure de toutes. Il allait retourner auprès de Badalia sa femme.
Elle aurait probablement fait quelque chose de mal pendant son
absence, et il pourrait alors revendiquer son autorité maritale. A
coup sûr elle aurait de l’argent. Les femmes seules ont toujours l’air
de posséder les sous que Dieu et le gouvernement refusent aux
bons travailleurs. Il se réconforta d’un autre coup de whisky. Il était
indubitable que Badalia aurait fait quelque chose de mal. Qui sait
même si elle n’aurait pas épousé un autre homme. Il attendrait le
départ du nouveau mari, et après avoir rossé Badalia il récupérerait
de l’argent et un sentiment de satisfaction qui lui manquait depuis
longtemps. Les dogmes et les lois renferment beaucoup de vertu,
mais quand on est à bout de prières et de souffrances, la seule
chose qui puisse rendre purs tous les actes d’un homme à ses
propres yeux, c’est la boisson. Le malheur est que les effets n’en
soient pas durables.
Tom prit congé de ses amis, en les priant d’avertir Jenny qu’il
s’en allait à Gunnison street et qu’il ne reviendrait plus dans ses
bras. Parce que c’était là un mauvais message, ils ne le négligèrent
pas, et chacun d’eux le rapporta, avec une précision d’ivrognes, aux
oreilles de Jenny. Puis Tom se remit à boire, jusqu’au moment où
son ivresse reflua et s’éloigna de lui comme une vague reflue et
s’éloigne du navire naufragé qu’elle s’apprête à engloutir. Il atteignit
une rue transversale, à l’asphalte noir et poli par la circulation, et
piétonna mollement parmi les reflets des étalages éclairés qui
flambaient en des abîmes de noires ténèbres à plusieurs brasses
au-dessous de ses semelles. Il était certes bien dégrisé. En
examinant son passé, il se vit absous de tous ses actes, avec une si
entière perfection que si en son absence Badalia avait osé mener
une vie irréprochable, il la massacrerait pour n’avoir pas tourné mal.
Badalia était alors dans sa chambre, après sa coutumière
escarmouche avec la mère de Lascar Lou. Sur un reproche aussi
cinglant que pouvait le formuler une langue de Gunnison street, la
vieille, surprise pour la centième fois à voler les humbles douceurs
destinées à la malade, n’avait su que glousser et répondre :
— Tu crois que Lou n’a jamais attrapé un homme de sa vie ? La
voici prête à mourir… mais elle y met le temps, la rosse. Moi ! je
vivrai encore vingt ans.
Badalia la secoua, plutôt pour le principe que dans le moindre
espoir de la corriger, et la projeta dans la nuit, où elle s’effondra sur
le pavé, en suppliant le diable de tuer Badalia.
Le diable répondit à son appel, sous la forme d’un homme au
visage livide, qui demanda celle-ci par son nom. La mère de Lascar
Lou se souvint. C’était le mari de Badalia… et le retour d’un mari
dans Gunnison street était en général suivi de horions.
— Où est ma femme ? dit Tom. Où est ma garce de femme ?
— Là-haut, et va te faire f… avec elle ! dit la vieille, en retombant
sur le flanc. Tu es revenu la chercher, Tom ?
— Oui. Comment s’est-elle conduite pendant que j’étais parti ?
— Tous les sacrés curés de la paroisse. Elle s’est requinquée,
que tu ne la reconnaîtrais pas.
— Elle est rusée !
— Oh oui. Et puis elle est toujours à circuler avec ces renifleuses
de sœurs de charité et avec le curé. Et puis il lui donne de l’argent…
des livres et des livres par semaine. Il l’entretient comme ça depuis
des mois, vrai. Pas étonnant que tu ne voulais plus avoir rien à faire
avec elle quand tu es parti. Et elle empêche d’avoir les choses à
manger qu’elle reçoit pour moi qui suis couchée ici dehors,
mourante, comme une chienne. Elle a été rudement rosse, Badalia,
depuis ton départ.
 Tom enjamba par-dessus la mère de Lascar Lou qui explorait les
fentes des pavés. Il lui demanda :
— Elle a toujours la même chambre, hein ?
— Qui, mais si bien arrangée que tu ne la reconnaîtrais pas.
Et pendant que Tom montait l’escalier, la vieille ricana. Tom était
en colère. Pour quelque temps, Badalia ne serait plus en état de
cogner sur les gens, ni de se mêler de la distribution de flans
envoyés par le ciel.
Comme elle se déshabillait pour se coucher, Badalia entendit des
pas familiers qui montaient l’escalier. Quand ils s’arrêtèrent et qu’un
coup de pied ébranla la porte, elle avait déjà plus ou moins réfléchi à
beaucoup de choses.
— Tom est revenu, se disait-elle. Et j’en suis heureuse… en dépit
du curé et du reste.
Elle ouvrit la porte en lançant le nom de Tom.
Celui-ci la repoussa.
— Je ne veux pas de tes embrassades et de tes cajoleries, fit-il.
J’en ai soupé.
— Tu n’en as pourtant pas eu tellement, pour en avoir soupé,
depuis deux ans.
— J’ai eu mieux. Tu as de l’argent ?
— Rien qu’un peu… terriblement peu.
— C’est un mensonge, et tu le sais bien.
— Ce n’est pas un mensonge… et dis, Tom, pourquoi parler
d’argent à la même minute où tu viens de rentrer ? Jenny a cessé de
te plaire ? Je m’y attendais.
— Ferme ta boîte. As-tu à boire, de quoi se cuiter comme il faut ?
— Tu n’as plus besoin de te cuiter. Tu l’es déjà suffisamment.
Viens te coucher, Tom.
— Avec toi ?