Some 30 or so years after the movement really hit its stride, contemporary intellectualism still struggles with extricating itself from the shadow of postmodern-ism. Now, postmodernism is an extremely large and ill-defined movement, and the term means different things and refers to different time periods depending on whether you’re talking about literature, philosophy, art, architecture, music or any number of other fields. But the center of the entire movement, and all of its branches, revolves around a sense of intellectual relativism, and it is this core philosophy of postmodernism with which we still find ourselves dancing a reluctant tango.

The postmodern emphasis on relativism came out of many varied sources, and it would be disingenuous to imply that any one was wholly and solely responsible. Some larger sources can still be identified, however. In general, postmodernism was a revolt against absolutism, and so remembrances of the terrors of Nazism and fascism echoed painfully through the halls of its formation.

But the largest contemporary source was none other than Marx-ism, particularly as exemplified by the glorification of the state in the Soviet Union but also in the way
that it tries to construct a narrative out of history in which every event has an objective, absolute purpose toward some higher goal. Rejecting such absolutism, the postmodernists found their values not on the universal level but rather on the local.

In contrast to the philosophies that spawned it, postmodernism is a decided breath of fresh air. If there’s one thing—philosophically, that is—that truly scares the snot out of me, it’s absolute certainty. At the point when one becomes absolutely convinced of his own rightness, and therefore of the absence of any need to heed the thoughts of others, a narcissism of incredible potency is born. At this point, the self becomes the absolute good and nothing is forbidden, for anything is allowed when one becomes absolutely certain.

Yet what about the other extreme, the oxymoronic extreme of relativism? Although the core values of relativism include respect for others and their own thoughts, leaning too far in this direction produces an inability to oppose the actions of others. For example, multiculturalism teaches that we should respect those of other religions. Well, what if extremists from that religion teach that women, for example, are so entirely unequal to men that they don’t even count as humans (and please don’t think I’m only speaking of Islam—this is a common element of many religious fringe groups)? Postmodernism would say that we are fine to oppose such treatment within our own society, but once we come to another, we have no right to impose our values upon them. At this point, the self becomes almost negated, and nothing is forbidden to anyone else, for anything is allowed when one becomes absolutely uncertain

Both philosophies, when taken to the extreme, arrive at the same place.

The problem is that postmodernism is an imperfect solution to absolutism because it only works for that person who adopts it. For everyone else, the postmodernist just becomes one less person to offer opposition. And so most of us, even those (like myself) who find themselves somewhat endeared to relativism, acknowledge that there are certain situations in which we must put our respective feet down and declare an action to be wrong.

But when does this become okay? The postmodernist becomes caught in a paradox: to allow the other to act unopposed is to allow the existence of absolutism, the sworn philosophical enemy. But to oppose such an act is an exercise in absolutism itself and thus transforms the postmodernist into precisely what the movement is designed to stop. Even for reformed postmodernists, this nagging thought hovers nearby at all times, boring discreetly into their justifications.

And so, contemporary intellectualism remains the hazy victim of postmodern excesses: able to comprehend the problem, yet un-able to extricate itself enough to bring about the solution.

In order to break this stalemate, then, I propose a compromise: limited absolutism. Or limited relativism, if you like—both imply finding a medium in the dialectic. In order to maintain the possibility of morality, we must declare a few values to be absolute goods; things like the right to life, equality of opportunity and traditional liberty. If we have no values, then we have no morality. But in deference to postmodernism, the pool ought to remain small, so that we never become certain of too much. Such a solution counters the narcissism of absolutism, while still avoiding the crippling inaction of postmodernism.

Discussion of which values ought to be included in this small pool is far beyond the scope of this article; it would likely take a sizable book to do so appropriately. But I think the general idea is vital: A few core values are a necessity; everything else is negotiable. As Oscar Wilde said, “Morality, like art, means drawing a line someplace.” The trick, of course, is to find out where…