Reflections on Voltaire and Modern Culture

This past Friday marked the 331st anniversary of Voltaire’s birth, a brilliant yet ironic figure in French philosophy. His works, particularly Candide, stand out from the Enlightenment era, and he’s often recognized for tackling subjects like evil, suffering, and for his critiques of Christianity, as seen in his poem about the Lisbon disaster. But what really shaped Voltaire? Historian Dr. John Woodbridge argues that his true danger lay in his uncanny ability to find humor in serious, often grim situations.

You could say that if Voltaire represented a decade, it would be the 1990s. Let me elaborate on that.

Diane West, in her book from 2008 titled The Death of Adulthood: How America’s Stagnation in Development is Collapsing Western Civilization, expresses a striking idea: “There was a time when teenagers literally didn’t exist.” Now, she isn’t implying that teenagers never roamed the earth, but rather suggests that adolescence was kind of a construct that emerged around the mid-20th century due to psychology and pop culture, overshadowing traditional rites of passage into adulthood with what she describes as “Peter Pan syndrome.”

In many cultures throughout history, young people were expected to act more like adults, a reality that fostered important developmental connections in the brain. West notes a troubling trend where adults increasingly mimic teenage behaviors in terms of fashion, actions, and spending. As a result, we might hear ourselves saying, “They’re just kids,” in reference to 17- and 18-year-olds.

After the 9/11 attacks, West expanded on her thesis, suggesting that we, as a society, are trapped in a “civilization of youth.” This shift, she argues, has left us ill-equipped to confront the challenges posed by radical Islam. So, as the stakes have heightened, our maturity seems to have diminished.

Irreverence is a key trait of adolescence, and the 1990s was indeed a time of notable irreverence. The era’s film and television often celebrated a sense of meaninglessness—think of the departure from the moral lessons found in 1980s sitcoms, or the lack of rebellion seen in 1970s youth culture. Instead, we got characters like Beavis and Butt-Head, who didn’t seem to care about anything. Comedy shows found humor in everything, including sexuality, but it often felt heartlessly detached—a kind of humor that doesn’t evoke genuine laughter, more a cynical chuckle.

One can learn a lot from society’s sense of humor. When everything becomes a joke, nothing remains sacred. And if nothing is sacred, what’s worth fighting for? If nothing’s worth fighting for, is it worth living?

Let’s clarify: the issue isn’t laughter or humor itself; it’s about a certain type of humor. Perhaps we’re drowning in a sea of meaninglessness.

In his work A Show About Nothing: Nihilism in Popular Culture, philosophy professor Thomas Hibbs points out the nihilism prevalent in American entertainment, particularly in shows like Seinfeld. He describes it as a state of “mental exhaustion and atrophied spirit,” which could easily shape an entire generation. As one university student noted in an article back then, there was indeed a generation that seemed to understand all societal flaws, concluding that all they could do was laugh.

But that was back in the 90s, when the “downsides” felt relatively tame. The Cold War had ended, and peace was a tangible reality—or at least, that’s what we thought. With Bill Clinton in office and a comfortable economy, angst-filled music like Nirvana’s became our anthem for disillusionment. Now, in contrast, the stakes feel a lot higher.

Of course, just dismissing things as “enjoying nothing” doesn’t fully explain the current issues. While mocking societal figures is one thing, erasing their existence altogether is quite another. The objectification seen in media, from MTV’s flashy close-ups to modern platforms like OnlyFans, feels disconcerting, especially considering the increase in women choosing to exploit their own images.

While we might not draw a straight line from the 90s irreverence to today’s cultural blasphemy, there’s definitely a connection worth pondering. It’s not simply about desensitization; just as Voltaire encouraged readers to laugh off the sacred, rampant profanity can dull our senses to what should be revered and disrupt the way we organize our lives and societies.

Voltaire’s influence is evident not only in the reruns from the 90s but also among current figures on both sides of the political spectrum, from the woke left to the right. It’s reflected in the erosion of the sacred and the rise of mockery that often replaces genuine discourse, which is concerning. What we seem to be losing is the authentic humor that the human spirit craves.