Political Kirajutsu: The Cleverness That Kills

Jujutsu is a Japanese martial art that originated as the “gentle art” of manipulating an opponent’s force against them rather than confronting it with one’s own force. In the world of politics, many in high office have become experts in the opposite form of this art – what I call “kirajutsu” or “killer art”. Another description of this ability is that politicians fall prey to the cleverness of their own argument. By trying to manipulate their opponents, they end up manipulating and deceiving themselves and the country. Politics is no longer the art of the possible, but the art of benefitting oneself.

Like any good lawyer, politicians learn to argue both sides of an issue, using whatever small rationalization is necessary to buttress their argument and score points. It’s an excellent skill that provides insight into how someone else, say an opponent, views the same set of facts. That gives insight into the weakness of that opponent. But in developing such a skill, politicians forget the moral aspects of their arguments. Instead of living and speaking with both the head and heart, they shelve the heart. The useful skill then becomes a dangerous tool-it becomes kirajutsu. Thus, one year a politician can justify waiting to nominate a supreme court justice because there “are only 88 days to election” and we must “let the people decide.” Four years later, and with a straight face, he argues vehemently that we must nominate a Supreme Court justice even if it’s “only 40 days to election” because it’s “constitutional.” It is the finest of kirajutsu moves.

Like most intellectual martial arts, kirajutsu and the cleverness of the combatants become an intellectual game of superiority. What such blatant arrogance produces, however, is cynicism and reduction in trust from those observing these hijinks.  Citizens are not stupid and see through the politician’s cleverness, and in the long term the toxicity of their game erodes our belief in democracy. Unfortunately for us, both political parties, Republicans and Democrats, practice kirajutsu because for them it’s about power, not about doing the right thing for the country. Their selfish desire to benefit themselves or their affiliates becomes an inexorable force. When such a game is only about power, the country loses in the long term.

The most severe effects are on trust and truth. Our trust toward leaders to tell the truth decays, assuming they ever told the truth. Kirajutsu makes truth a relative value, based on circumstances. While politicians fool themselves that they are concerned with pragmatic truth, their conscience, in a futile attempt, tells them otherwise. That there is a different truth, one that is durable, not a function of circumstances and changing desires. But their kirajutsu cleverness swamps their small inner voice. The touchstone to a truthful life evaporates amidst the weaknesses and temptations of their human nature.

How do we get out of this democracy-destroying political kirajutsu? How do politicians recover their ability and courage to do what is right? The only way out is for everyone to recognize the truth. We must recognize that we are all one and what hurts others hurts us. We must remember the importance of morality, of eternal truths, of the ones we learned in kindergarden. Additionally, we must recognize we are one nation which can only survive together, not apart. And that kirajutsu, while fun and temporarily satisfying, is tearing us apart.

Making the Unknown Known

Metaphors make the unknown knowable. They do so by taking an ineffable experience or an unobservable condition and comparing it to something known. Metaphors are bridges between the silence of the inexpressible and the language of the intellect. At least that is the argument made by David Thoreau, the 19th century American essayist, poet, and philosopher, and William Bronk, the 20th century American poet. From their perspective, silence is “the world of potentialities and meanings beyond the actual and expressed.” What makes these potentialities actual and expressed is metaphorical language. The power of this is reflected in the bible verse John 1:1 “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

A metaphor such as “the pandemic of 2020 is a world war” doesn’t capture the entire essence of what it is trying to describe, but it captures an important aspect of it: a world-wide catastrophe causing death and panic. Finding the right, distinguishing label is satisfying. And perhaps why we have a fuller sense of knowing when we label what is unknown. Whether this truly increases our understanding or just the ability to communicate with others, is really not relevant at this point.

From a psychological and neuroscience perspective mind is an unknown. By mind I mean that which arises when sensory, motor, mnemonic, and cognitive inputs and their associated feedback meld into a unified stream. Metaphors are useful tools to understand that. Mind-metaphors reflect dominant scientific ideas that change as we learn more about this unknown and as our tools and sophistication to describe it improve.

As a consequence of this history, one encounters innumerable variations of what were once useful metaphors that have now lost some of their explanatory power. One of the oldest is the mind-as-container metaphor. The mind as a physical entity that contains other entities in space has been a persistent idea. Plato talked about the mind as an aviary. We think of it as containing thoughts.

A variation of this is the mind-as-landscape (William Bronk’s mind landscape, where journeying is de rigueur); mind-as-stream (William James’s stream of consciousness); mind-as-entity (the mind as tangible, localized, and discrete). Another subtler variation of the container idea is mind-as-body. Here mind is what the body is and even more specifically what the brain is. The mind-as-embodiment is a monistic interpretation that is contrary to mind-as-essence. Mind-as-essence is the dualistic interpretation in which mind is an essence separable from the physical reality of the body.

In contemporary thought, mind metaphors are still grounded in old definitions but increasingly seen as multidimensional, dynamic processes. Mind-as-living-being reflects a mind where thoughts and experiences form a ‘sentient web.’ Mind-as-development or as-blank-slate; mind-as-movie projector; mind-as-connectionist network; mind-as-brain (connectionism); mind-as-computer (symbolisms); mind-as-dynamic system (nonrepresentational, low-dimensional).

All these and the inexhaustible supply of mind-metaphors remind me of the classic parable of the blind men describing an animal they have never encountered before (an elephant) just by touching only one part of it. As long as each experiences only a small portion of the elephant, of mind, of whatever the unknown is, the description is likely wrong. As our experience expands, descriptions change and become more complicated. But metaphors can only approach truth, they are incapable of expressing the entire truth.