Letting go of politics

Wu wei and the 2024 themes of the Burning Archive

When I walked out of government for the last time over one year ago, I left behind the maze of power. I took up this new life as a writer, if with lingering regret about how I had been cast out of government. But I did not let go of politics. That time has now come. But how?

The disappointing trap of power

I have been writing and thinking about politics, for most of my life. In part, it was my own interest. I recall listening to ABC news shows every morning from the early 1970s. I studied politics and history at university. For a while, I even dreamed of a career in politics. But my temperament is ill-suited to the combat, partisanship and superficiality of modern media-driven politics.

Instead, I pursued a shadow career as a public servant, and believed, till near the end, in what proved to be false gods of modern democratic ideals. I believed the public service could be the career of what I called a “private intellectual.” I hoped, despite all the mounting evidence, that public institutions could support a culture of deep inquiry and authentic dialogue. I was lost in this illusory maze for 30 years, and told this story more fully in Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Bureaucrat.

For 33 years, I wrote about both politics and government (in Thirteen Ways I explain they are not the same thing, but that is a question for another day). I wrote in briefs and cabinet submissions in my day job. Then at night I wrote essays, poems and even fiction, first for the drawer, and then for the blog. I learned insights about the world of power that most writers simply do not know. I gave insights to the powerful, and received precious little in return. By the end of 2022, therefore, I felt both impelled to share my knowledge enclosed in my secret writings, and deeply frustrated that my voice was muzzled for so long.

These feelings laid a trap for me that I did not see when I walked out of that government office for the last time in November 2022. I thought I had left both government and politics behind, and so freed my mind to wander in the greener fields of culture. But my frustration at 33 silent years, spent shackled in the dungeon of bureaucracy, drew me to write about politics, if not the government. Like a moth drawn to the flame, I flew into the fiery trap that would hurt me.

The empire of politics strikes back

For years I had debated whether to renounce the political world and to pursue a life of contemplation and detachment. But when I had finally freed myself from the maze of power through an early retirement package, I still could not let politics go.

I did leave the government that I served behind, and screened out most local news. But politics in our societies today is something other than government. Government is the real, mostly dull processes of collective public action. It is a world of practical judgment, compromise and muddling through. Politics is a theatre of opinion and gesture. It is the spectacle of the great stories of loyalty and opposition. It is a tame version of the Hunger Games that we consume mostly through stories relayed second- and third-hand in the media. The sport sucks us in to express opinions on matters we know little of, and that we cannot realistically influence.

On the other hand, there is a tradition of the engaged intellectual. This tradition speaks to me and says it is my duty to speak up about the issues of the day. This tradition has long supported a culture of public debate and enlightened opinion. It impels the responsible citizen to follow the news and debate the passing mirages of governments that appear there. Around 1800 Hegel said that reading the newspaper is the new religious ritual of the enlightened person. Jürgen Habermas celebrated this communicative discourse of the shared public field of politics as the bedrock of democracies. But that world of enlightened, informed public opinion supporting reasoned discourse on public affairs in daily newspapers is now long gone. It drowned in the new world of politics floated on oceans of social media coverage and passing opinion.

But a trace of that old tradition drew me back to write about politics and government. Did anyone really care what I, a washed-up government official with no affiliation to an institution of higher learning, had to say about anything else? So I found myself drawn back to write, talk and make videos about politics, even though in my heart of hearts I knew I wanted to take another path. But 33 years of habit and feedback loops are hard to discard. I also found that, for the first time in my life, my thought on politics and government found a public audience through Pearls and Irritations and other outlets. Even though I tried to push my pieces into forms of poetic historical essays, the editors seemed to want the political news angle. And in my writing on history on Substack and other channels, my exploration of deep themes of political disorder and empires, and my fear for the state of the world, would detour into commentary on the latest political events.

The ordinary virtue of the life of the mind

And beneath it all there was an ordinary virtue that I believed justified a fierce defence. In recent years, some developments in the world have deeply shocked and dismayed me. Something troubling and difficult to describe was afoot in the “Western world.” I have investigated this mystery extensively, and I am not alone. Its manifestations in political news, however, did distract me from the core issue at hand.

I wanted to make a stand for the pursuit of an independent life of the mind. I wanted to restore genuine dialogue and exchange between people of different cultures, social identities and political beliefs. I wanted to remind the world of the complex way in which many pasts live on in the present. I wanted the world to accept more equanimity between its different regions, and to tone down the enmity that was driving us all to catastrophic conflicts.

On reflection, my writing on “politics” was driven by this ethical desire to defend virtues of empathy, dialogue and the independent life of the mind. But it drew me into a rip that carried me away from the mindful life I sought, out into the dangerous waters of politics, with all its flotsam and jetsam. I tried to write enduring history on the major changes in the world: imperial rivalry, political disorder, social fragmentation and cultural decay. But I found myself writing political commentary, here today and gone tomorrow. And, through long habit, I played the part of the exiled Cassandra. I was lost again in the maze of power, where I did not truly want to be.

After 33 years in that maze I could not quite believe I could walk freely in greener fields of culture. But now I see my errors, and have more faith in my potential. So today as I look towards 2024, I can finally let go of politics. I can practice the Taoist principle of wu wei, which may be defined as conscious non-action, the deliberate and principled decision to do nothing for a reason.

Image Credit: A 16th century painting of the immortal Liezi by Zhang Lu (1464–1538).

The new themes of the Burning Archive

I have made deliberate and principled decision to write nothing more on political disorder for a reason. I am letting go of politics in the Burning Archive.

I will still write about world affairs, and the names of the leaders of the major states of the world will no doubt appear from time to time. I will continue to write my other themes of empire, society and culture.

But I will reframe these themes in 2024, from wails to wishes, from kaddish to kindness. I want to offer pathways of hope, consolation and mindful attention. I hope they can offer you as a reader some insights, skills and mindsets that may, if through the smallest of steps, return this world to a path of dialogue, diplomacy and respect for difference.

Instead of writing about imperial rivalry and ‘geopolitics’, I will write about the coming symphony of civilizations in a world no longer dominated alone by the West.

Instead of writing about social fragmentation and looming collapse, I will write about the daily practices that can help us achieve a society of islands, rather than an island society (as I discussed in this podcast, Towards a Society of Islands, in 2021).

Instead of writing about cultural decay and doom, I will write about how authentic writing, voices and remembrance can renew our lives and restore some more appreciation of cultural exchange, including between the present and the past.

You could summarise my approach to my themes in three practices: authentic writing, mindful history, and cultural dialogue.

All three themes are united by one hope. Let us return the world to the path of dialogue, diplomacy and respect for difference. Between different civilizations. Between different social groups. Between different cultural traditions and schools of thought. Between the past and the present.

In 2024 I intend to give my attention to these practices and support you, dear reader, to see their value too. As my attention shifts to civilizations, societies of islands, and cultural dialogue, the trashy spectacle of politics will fade away. Of course, big themes of war, peace and momentous change will still be here. But I aim to write about the deep layers of our shared experience, not the trivia of atrophied politics.

My new offer in writing to you

I will deliver to you writing every week on Substack on these themes, and modelling these practices.

I will refocus the weekly newsletter on one topic each week, prompted by these themes and practices. Over time I will still range widely, but each week I intend to be briefer, deeper and brighter. I will offer my reflections on some prompt from our amazing world, past or present, and share a tip that I have found helpful in leading an independent life of the mind.

For my most generous supporters, I will also write a fortnightly World History View post. These posts will be approximately 2,000 words on a key book, cultural artefact, issue or narrative from world history. My focus over the next two months will be developing the idea of the new tide of non-Western globalisation, which I have developed from reading John Darwin’s books.

My most generous supporters will also receive a fortnightly video message. In these video messages I will offer some behind-the-scenes glimpses and informal reflections on how to practise mindful engagement with history, writing for meaning, and imaginative conversations about culture.

The point of history, historian Priya Satia has said, is not to command and control the world, but to make yourself a better person. Thanks for joining me on the journey.

I will also be sharing here news on the courses I will be developing on each practice (authentic writing, mindful history, cultural dialogue) at courses.jeffrichwriter.com.

This week’s tip for the life of the mind

Read poetry every day, even if only a few lines.