Sunday, October 11, 2026

Launch Events: Responsible Business Law Initiative

 


 

Happy to pass along this announcement:

Dear colleagues and friends of UW Law,
You are invited to join us this October to mark the launch of the Responsible Business Law Initiative (RBLI), a new initiative of the Barer Institute at the University of Washington School of Law.
To help us celebrate, we are delighted to welcome Alison Taylor and Klaus Moosmayer, two leading global voices on responsible business, who will explore how changing expectations around companies’ impact on people and the planet are shaping regulation and the role of lawyers.

Monday, Oct. 19, 2026
RBLI Launch at UW Law
In-person | Seattle, U.S | 5 p.m. Pacific
Keynote Address & Dialogue with Alison Taylor
Higher Ground: Corporate Risk and Responsibility in a Divided World
Register for the In-Person Event



Tuesday, Oct. 20, 2026
RBLI Global Launch
Virtual | 9 a.m. Pacific | noon Eastern
Global times: 1 p.m. São Paulo | 5 p.m. London | 7 p.m. Nairobi | 9:30 p.m. New Delhi | 11:00 p.m. Bangkok
Panel Discussion with Alison Taylor, Klaus Moosmayer & UW Law Global Alumni
Navigating Responsible Business Across the Globe

 

Saturday, October 10, 2026

Absa Africa Financial Markets Index 2026

 


The Official Monetary and Financial Institutions Forum (OMFIF) is now circulating its quite interesting 2026 Absa-Africa Financial Markets Index (the "2026 Index"). "It tracks progress across 29 African countries through a survey of more than 50 organisations based in the region." (Press Release).

The posted Press Release also explained in more detail that:

Over the last 10 years, the Absa Africa Financial Markets Index has assessed financial development in African countries based on measures of market accessibility, openness and transparency. It tracks progress across 29 African countries through a survey of more than 50 organisations based in the region. Supported by the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa, the index is a benchmark for examining how progress enhances investment appeal and promotes economic resilience.

The 2026 report further examines developments in Africa’s financial landscape, including the diversification of financial products, the adoption of environmental, social and governance frameworks, the future of digital innovation and efforts to strengthen regulatory frameworks. This year, in addition to assessing progress made over the last 12 months, the report will look back over a decade of transformation to see which countries have seen the greatest development in their financial markets.

The 10th edition of the Absa Africa Financial Markets Index will launch at the International Monetary Fund-World Bank annual meetings in Bangkok, Thailand. The event will bring together policy-makers and financial market participants from across Africa to assess this year’s developments and discuss practical ideas for further improvements. It is an opportunity for policy-makers to share best practices and learn from each other, while celebrating 10 years of steady progress.


 The Executive Summary of the 2025 Report follows

 

Friday, October 09, 2026

CfP: Global Business and Human Rights Scholars Association and Teaching Business and Human Rights Forum Conference


poster prepared with Grok




I am delighted to share this CfP:

We are delighted to announce that the 2027 Global Business and Human Rights Scholars Association and Teaching Business and Human Rights Forum Conference will take place at SKEMA Business School, Sophia-Antipolis Campus, France, on July 1–2, 2027, with a special session for PhD and early career attendees on June 30.

We invite contributions reflecting the interdisciplinarity of the business and human rights field, including theoretical, empirical, policy-oriented, pedagogical, and practice-based work. The Call for Papers and Proposals welcomes submissions in three categories: Research Papers, Thematic Workshops, and Innovative and Creative Sessions.

New for this conference is a Special Track on “Organizations and Women’s Rights”, inviting contributions that explore gender perspectives in business and human rights. The track will bring together scholars from human rights, law, gender studies, management, sustainability, and other social science disciplines. Alongside dedicated research paper sessions, we plan an interdisciplinary plenary and welcome thematic workshops and creative sessions on this topic that will be open to all attendees.

For further information and the Call for Papers and Proposals, please visit the Conference website.

Key dates:
Submissions open: 22 September
Submissions close: 15 November
Notification of results: 15 January 2027

Please save the dates and share the announcement with colleagues and research networks. We look forward to your contributions and to seeing you in Sophia-Antipolis!


Thumos (θυμός, el alma fogosa) y el Estado mercantil de America First Reflexiones sobre el discurso del secretario Rubio en Atenas (la Pnyx, 7 de octubre de 2026)

 

foto crédito y video aquí

ENGLISH LANGUAGE VERSION HERE 

Versión completa aquí


Lo que sigue es una serie de reflexiones basadas en las declaraciones del secretario Rubio. El texto se titula *Thumos* (
θυμός, el alma fogosa) y el Estado mercantil «America First»: Reflexiones sobre el discurso del secretario Rubio en Atenas (La Pnix, 7 de octubre de 2026). A continuación, se presentan el resumen ejecutivo, la introducción y una síntesis de las declaraciones del secretario; más abajo figura la reflexión completa, junto con el texto íntegro de la intervención del secretario de Estado Marco Rubio.

以銅為鏡,可以正衣冠;以古為鏡,可以知興替;以人為鏡,可以明得失。

Con el bronce como espejo, uno puede enderezarse la túnica y el gorro; con la antigüedad como espejo, uno puede conocer el auge y la caída de los regímenes; con otra persona como espejo, uno puede ver sus propios logros y deficiencias. Emperador Taizong de Tang (Li Shimin; r. 626-649), a la muerte de su primer ministro y crítico Wei Zheng (643), según lo recogen las historias Tang.

«El thumos, como lo llamaban los antiguos griegos —el fuego de la pasión, la fuerza, el coraje, el orgullo— es el corazón de la gran civilización. ¿Y sin él? Sin él, las naciones pierden su voluntad de luchar, la voluntad de esforzarse, la voluntad de sobrevivir.» Discurso que el secretario Rubio pronunció en la Pnyx el 7 de octubre de 2026.

RESUMEN EJECUTIVO:

Desde el inicio del segundo mandato del presidente Trump, Marco Rubio ha sido un participante importante en la conformación de la base conceptual de America First. Uno se hace una idea de ese proyecto a través de los principales discursos e intervenciones del secretario de Estado. Estos suelen pronunciarse en el extranjero y parecen destinados a proyectar de manera coherente las estructuras, normas y presupuestos motores de America First ante públicos extranjeros que a menudo no están bien dispuestos hacia ellos. Ese proyecto continúa. Entre las más conocidas de estas intervenciones se encuentra el discurso pronunciado en la Conferencia de Seguridad de Múnich. Con un fascinante conjunto de palabras pronunciadas en la Pnyx ateniense el 7 de octubre de 2026, el secretario añade ahora otro estrato a la labor estratificada de coherencia cognitiva que America First pretende ser.

Este ensayo examina la intervención de Atenas en el contexto de los estratos que la precedieron y sobre los cuales se asienta. Las palabras presentan un tapiz notable que entreteje las relaciones triádicas dentro de America First. Puede que resulten más claras si se las contempla no en sí mismas, sino reflejadas en tropos antiguos procedentes de las civilizaciones a las que alude el secretario. Entre ellos figura la centralidad del thumos (fogosidad) dentro de la tríada que Platón presentó al mundo antiguo como un entramado de logos (razón), epithumia (apetito) y thumos. Otras tríadas ayudan también a comprender las matrices que, en su conjunto, conforman America First. La primera procede de los tres espejos del emperador Taizong de la dinastía Tang: el espejo de uno mismo, el espejo del tiempo y el espejo de nuestro reflejo en los otros. La segunda es semiótica. Podría entenderse que America First, y su punto de partida cognitivo en las sensibilidades transaccionales del Mercader, se desplaza desde el objeto hacia la significación que inviste a ese objeto de sentido, y luego hacia la interpretación que convierte un acto singular de significación en una proyección colectiva de sentido, a través de la cual puede organizarse un espacio coherente y racionalizado.

Estas tríadas quedan luego estructuradas por el recurso discursivo mediante el cual el secretario convierte las normas subyacentes en desempeño textual. Ese recurso es la superposición paralela de figuras históricas, que lleva el pasado hacia el futuro y presenta el futuro como mímesis iterativa. Con ese fin, el secretario ofrece a su auditorio el paralelismo estratificado de las Vidas paralelas de Plutarco. Estas vidas, cada una significante de su tiempo, fueron fundacionales para la constitución de la República estadounidense. Representaron asimismo una iteración mimética del ciclo griego y romano anterior, dentro del cual los Estados Unidos y Europa eligen ahora caminos que ofrecen esperanza, o ruina. Y quizás sea en ese paralelismo estratificado donde puedan encontrarse America First y sus significaciones.

El ensayo comienza donde el secretario inicia su intervención, con la ruina viviente de la Acrópolis. Sigue el discurso a lo largo de sus doce movimientos hasta detenerse en el testimonio de la deuda de Webster en 1824, en el entendido de que el orden del discurso forma parte de su argumento. Con esa secuencia en mano, el ensayo se pregunta qué podría hacer el discurso con el proyecto America First. Atiende primero a lo que el discurso apenas insinúa: Persia que se difumina en Irán, China presente solo como rival innombrado, el hemisferio y la larga sombra otomana. Examina luego cómo el discurso amplía el proyecto, al desplazar su línea de base de 1963 al 480 a.n.e. y reformular la seguridad nacional como algo más cercano a una teoría de la civilización. Esa ampliación parece conllevar una serie de reorientaciones —de las instituciones al carácter, de los derechos al deber y del trato a la deuda— en las cuales el erudito-guerrero frente al que el Mercader se definió alguna vez reaparece como antepasado venerado. Junto a estas reorientaciones, el discurso amplifica temas conocidos, entre ellos la política del nombrar, la soberanía como valor protegido de la alianza y una franca admisión del imperio, mientras la maquinaria transaccional del Mercader continúa funcionando silenciosamente bajo el mito.

Desde ahí, el ensayo se vuelve hacia el objeto, la significación y la interpretación en movimiento. Sugiere que las corrientes mítica y operativa del discurso se enroscan una alrededor de la otra como una hélice, cada una prestando a la otra legitimidad o contenido, y que cada interpretación que el discurso estabiliza se convierte en el objeto de la siguiente. En el camino, se detiene en Apolo en la Luna, en la disciplina plutarquiana del paralelo sin identidad, en la ruina sepultada bajo el Partenón y en la vasija en la que una civilización deposita su fe en sí misma. Estos hilos convergen gradualmente en la tríada de logos, thumos y epithumia. Leídos ahora no como facultades de un alma sino como registros de significación, sus flujos entre unos y otros pueden ayudar a explicar cómo la ideología política y normativa construye Estados y otras formas de agencia política. El ensayo se pregunta luego, con cautela, si los tres espejos de Taizong y el alma homérico-platónica podrían ser dos articulaciones de una única estructura psicosemiótica. De serlo, la inversión del tercer espejo por parte del secretario tendría lugar en el registro del thumos. En esa inversión, los Estados Unidos se ofrecen como la imagen en la que se invita a Europa a ver sus propias deficiencias, y esas deficiencias han de sentirse como vergüenza y responderse con orgullo, en lugar de reconocerse como error y corregirse. Una breve nota final deja abierta la cuestión de si Europa se reconocerá en ese espejo o leerá, en cambio, el cristal, que puede ser la cuestión de la que dependa el próximo giro de la hélice.

El ensayo se ofrece como una lectura y no como un veredicto, y se invita cordialmente a los lectores a acogerlo en su totalidad y a llevar adelante la conversación.

Introducción 

El discurso que el secretario Rubio pronunció en la Pnyx el 7 de octubre de 2026 podría entenderse útilmente como un segundo cimiento colocado bajo una estructura que ya estaba en pie. The Conceptual Architecture of America First describió esa estructura como una transición desde un orden organizado en torno a las instituciones y sus gestores tecnoburocráticos (el Burócrata, 士) hacia uno organizado en torno a las transacciones y las personas que las realizan (el Mercader, 商). Sugirió también una debilidad en esa transición: todo sistema parece necesitar una narrativa, y una política del trato quizás no proporcione, por sí sola, la línea de base cognitiva de la que una línea política extrae su autoridad. El discurso del secretario en Múnich de febrero de 2026, frente al cual se examinan las presentes palabras, proporcionó una línea de base —el año 1963 y el binario comunismo/libertad— a partir de la cual podía narrarse la traición de 1989 (Reflections on Friendship, the Power of National Self-Actualization, and the Defining Baseline of 1963 in and as America First--Text of Secretary of State Marco Rubio at the Munich Security Conference). Atenas puede proporcionar una más profunda. Parece desplazar el punto de partida de 1963 al 480 a.n.e., de una disputa entre aliados a una genealogía de una civilización, y del vocabulario del comercio, la soberanía y las fronteras al vocabulario del ego, la gloria y el honor: la fogosidad (thumos o thymos, θυμός), aquello que, según se ha sugerido, desde sus orígenes homéricos se halla en el fundamento de toda manifestación interior, ya sea cognitiva o intelectual, emocional o física (Caroline P. Caswell, A Study of Thumos in Early Greek Epic (Leiden: Brill, 1990)).

El análisis avanza en tres pasos, cada uno de los cuales se construye sobre lo que el anterior deja sin resolver. La sección 1 resume el discurso movimiento por movimiento, puesto que su argumento parece sostenerse tanto en la secuencia como en la aseveración. La sección 2 se pregunta luego qué podría hacer el discurso con el proyecto America First: qué insinúa, amplía, reorienta y amplifica. La sección 3 lee el discurso a través de la semiótica fenomenológica desarrollada en mi obra anterior: objeto, significación e interpretación como un movimiento recursivo en el cual cada matriz interpretativa se convierte en el objeto del giro siguiente. El discurso parece inusualmente apto para esa lectura. Comienza con un objeto físico (la Acrópolis, que se alza detrás del orador), narra una ruina que fue sepultada y devino cimiento, cita un precedente que cita un precedente (Webster, los Fundadores, Plutarco) y se mueve entre dos registros, el mítico y el operativo, con un ritmo alterno. Leído como texto, es una secuencia. Leído como signo en movimiento, puede acercarse más a una hélice, y la sección 3 intenta sugerir lo que ello podría significar. Cabría sospechar también que el recurso central del discurso es su método, y que el método es el de Plutarco: Rubio superpone vidas paralelas y momentos paralelos (Atenas y Roma, Alejandro y César, Webster y él mismo) en matrices cristalinas que sugieren conexión y mímesis iterativa, pero nunca identidad. A través de las tres secciones corre el propio thumos, que, según se sugerirá, puede funcionar menos como tema del discurso que como la fuerza semiótica que lo anima.

El epígrafe sugiere las formas cognitivas de la semiótica que sigue. La máxima atribuida al emperador Taizong de la dinastía Tang habla de tres espejos: el espejo de la apariencia del yo, el espejo de lo que vino antes y de lo que podría venir después, y el espejo del «otro» a través del cual uno podría «ver» mejor el yo. Puede leerse al secretario Rubio como alguien que emplea los tres. Se mira en el espejo de bronce y ve en él America First; se mira en el pasado para ver el presente y el futuro; y parece invertir la mirada del tercero, invitando a Europa a verse en el espejo que son los EE. UU. El espejo de bronce revela a los EE. UU. enderezando sus vestiduras exteriores; la antigüedad muestra a Occidente lo que fue y podría llegar a ser; y para Europa, los Estados Unidos se ofrecen (el plural, común antes de la Guerra Civil estadounidense, se emplea deliberadamente pero con fines distintos) como la imagen en la que Europa podría ver sus propios éxitos y ahora sus deficiencias contemporáneas. Esa inversión, si lo es, constituye la sugerencia central del ensayo, desarrollada con mayor amplitud en la sección 3.6.

Una nota sobre método y fuentes. La lectura es estereoscópica, un esfuerzo por lograr una representación tridimensional, aunque solo sea ilusoria, de imágenes bidimensionales que reflejan la planitud de los imaginarios representados. No pretendo juzgar si las afirmaciones históricas de Rubio son ciertas; el ensayo considera las afirmaciones, aseveraciones normativas y fácticas, como signos, y se pregunta qué podrían hacer con ellas las comunidades interpretativas. Las citas del discurso se toman del texto publicado de la intervención.

1. El discurso: un resumen exhaustivo

El discurso tiene doce movimientos. Se resumen aquí en orden, porque el orden forma parte del argumento.

I. La ruina viviente. Rubio comienza distinguiendo la Acrópolis de las demás ruinas del mundo, que son lugares donde la historia parece haberse agotado. La Acrópolis, dice, todavía convoca de vuelta a la imaginación occidental. Relata la historia del 480 a.n.e.: los ejércitos de Jerjes incendian Atenas; la mayoría de los atenienses evacua por mar; un puñado se atrinchera en la Acrópolis y lanza piedras sobre los invasores; son arrollados y los templos arrasados. Cuando los atenienses regresan, recogen los restos quebrados de la antigua Acrópolis y los entierran en la colina, y décadas más tarde, bajo Pericles, levantan el Partenón. Este se ha mantenido en pie veinticinco siglos, y los hijos de Atenas y Roma han llevado la civilización que representa hasta los confines de la tierra. («Los persas saquearon los templos, quemaron los santuarios y arrasaron la Acrópolis hasta los cimientos, pero cuando los atenienses regresaron, recogieron los restos quebrados de la antigua Acrópolis y los enterraron en la colina donde se había alzado. Y décadas más tarde, bajo Pericles, levantaron el Partenón.» Intervención de Rubio). Podría vislumbrarse aquí algo de la ciclicidad de una civilización que se repite pero nunca es del todo la misma que fue antes.

II. La deuda. Rubio se presenta como secretario de Estado de una república con dos siglos y medio de existencia y como bisnieto de colonos procedentes de España, y dice que ha venido a dar testimonio de una deuda que ni el tiempo ni la distancia pueden extinguir («Me encuentro hoy aquí como secretario de Estado de esa república, y bisnieto de colonos que llegaron al nuevo mundo desde España; estoy aquí para dar testimonio de una deuda que ningún lapso de tiempo, ninguna distancia en el espacio podrá jamás extinguir.» Intervención de Rubio). Cataloga las huellas griegas en el gobierno estadounidense: columnas, cúpulas, el nombre de Filadelfia. Afirma que el autor más citado en los Federalist Papers fue Plutarco, y no un teórico de la Ilustración. Concede luego la herencia conocida (la democracia, la filosofía, el derecho, el vocabulario de la política) y dice que es cierta pero superficial.

III. La herencia más profunda. Lo que Occidente debe a Atenas, sostiene, no son instituciones sino cualidades que no pueden reducirse a ningún sistema político: una individualidad y una ambición feroces, una exploración audaz, un ansia de riesgo y de gloria, una impaciencia ante los límites. Estas pertenecen a un pueblo, no a una escuela. Añade que los griegos miraban hacia afuera allí donde otras culturas miraban hacia adentro, de modo que dieron a Occidente la historia misma, y que legaron la convicción de que lo desconocido puede conocerse porque el cosmos tiene un orden racional. Esa convicción es el fundamento de la matemática, la ciencia y la medicina occidentales, y preparó el terreno para el evangelio y para la teología de Agustín, Tomás de Aquino y el derecho natural. El resultado es una civilización con una antropología común, una visión compartida del hombre y de su lugar en el universo.

IV. Excelencia, contienda y thumos. Los griegos organizaron la vida cívica en torno a la contienda, en el arte, la guerra, el atletismo y el arte de gobernar. Aunque hoy todos tienen alguna idea de lo que ello significa, unas ideas mejor informadas que otras, uno podría sentirse tentado a entender una (nunca «la») consecuencia de este modo: la polis (πόλις), entendida como el centro urbano y los seres humanos que lo constituían, unida a su chora (χώρα), de modo que este espacio y estos seres humanos pudieran entenderse en conjunto como una arena en la que los grandes hombres se ponían a prueba. La correspondencia con las sensibilidades modernas sugiere tanto la conexión con las nociones antiguas como su atenuación a lo largo de los siglos. Esa brecha es quizás lo que el secretario Rubio considera. Contrapone una época que construye hacia abajo, que diseña estándares para que nadie pierda y mantiene lo excepcional como rehén de lo promedio, con los constructores del Partenón, que construyeron hacia arriba. El thumos, el fuego de la pasión, la fuerza, el coraje y el orgullo, o quizás con mayor precisión el ego, la gloria y el honor, es para él el corazón de la gran civilización, y sin él las naciones pierden la voluntad de luchar, de esforzarse y de sobrevivir. Rubio alza el espejo de bronce y parece ver la vestidura de la civilización griega (occidental), que permanece a la vez inalterada y alterada («Pero las cosas que le debemos a este lugar —como estadounidenses y como occidentales— son en realidad mucho, mucho más profundas. Estas instituciones e ideas —estas instituciones e ideas fueron la expresión exterior de cualidades más fundamentales que vemos en los antiguos griegos—, cualidades que no pueden reducirse a ningún sistema político o teoría en particular. […] Conocerlos es conocernos a nosotros mismos.» Intervención de Rubio).

V. El diagnóstico. El Occidente contemporáneo ha olvidado el thumos. («El thumos, como lo llamaban los antiguos griegos —el fuego de la pasión, la fuerza, el coraje, el orgullo— es el corazón de la gran civilización. ¿Y sin él? Sin él, las naciones pierden su voluntad de luchar, la voluntad de esforzarse, la voluntad de sobrevivir. Hoy, demasiado de Occidente ha olvidado esta cualidad. Con el tiempo, en Occidente llegamos a sentir vergüenza de las mismas cosas que nos hicieron excepcionales.» Intervención de Rubio). Se avergonzó de lo que lo hacía excepcional, convirtió el nacionalismo en una mala palabra, derribó monumentos, enseñó a los niños a avergonzarse de sus países, abrió las fronteras, deslocalizó la industria, dejó que sus fuerzas armadas decayeran y transfirió la soberanía a burocracias globales. Otros llenaron el vacío.

Es aquí donde la adopción del thumos se vuelve interesante, y lo es de dos maneras. La primera es su aparente desvinculación del thumos respecto de la tríada platónica, en la que el alma es un compuesto de logos, thumos y epithumia: razón, fogosidad y apetitos. En el Timeo, Platón sitúa la parte racional en la cabeza, la parte fogosa en el pecho, cerca del corazón, y la parte apetitiva por debajo del diafragma. La segunda es la implícita distancia del discurso respecto de mucho de lo que la posmodernidad ha hecho con el thumos (de nuevo desvinculado del logos y la epithumia, o conectado con ellos de maneras particulares). Podría escucharse al secretario anteponer el corazón a la cabeza y a las entrañas. La razón puede ser bastante clara, aunque su política sea objeto de controversia. Cabría preguntarse si el secretario sugería que varios siglos de Ilustración, en los que se privilegió el logos, produjeron sistemas, estructuras y tecnologías formidables que, sin embargo, carecían de alma; una falta de alma capaz de producir la Revolución Industrial y, en su extremo, la capacidad de los colectivos de matar a millones sujetos únicamente al punto final de la secuenciación lógica. Del mismo modo, podría pensarse que las entrañas, tanto la histeria como las pasiones corporales, producen caos; y, sin embargo, producen también vida. A menudo se ha pensado que el antídoto contra el caos reside solo en el logos, lo cual puede a su vez haber despojado de vida al cuerpo. El thumos, podría pensarse que el discurso recuerda a sus oyentes, podría representar un intermediario más clásicamente equilibrado entre la razón sin vida y la vida sin razón, el lugar donde ambas podrían mediarse. Y es quizás ese centramiento lo que el discurso sugiere que se ha perdido, cuyos vestigios son visibles en el extremismo ilustrado por un lado y en el caos populista por el otro. Si tanto el logos como la epithumia tienden, en sus puntos extremos, hacia la muerte, entonces el thumos podría leerse como la vida en la mediación entre los extremos. Esto no es exactamente Platón, por supuesto, quien en el Fedro hizo de la razón el auriga que conduce los dos caballos de la fogosidad y el apetito. El secretario parece sugerir, en cambio, que el thumos impulsa a la humanidad encauzando la combustión del logos y la epithumia. Ese movimiento puede llevar al secretario de los antiguos hacia los posmodernos. En el contexto de la Genealogía de la moral de Nietzsche, hay una implicación digna de consideración (quizás planteada inconscientemente a través de la intervención): que en la modernidad algo de la epithumia se ha transformado en el resentimiento de la moral de esclavos, frente al cual el thumos, aunque Nietzsche rara vez lo nombre como tal, podría leerse como una fuerza mediadora más pronunciada, expresada mediante la sublimación de los impulsos bajos (crueldad, dominación) en algo que inserta la razón en el deseo. Podría irse más lejos, con cierta cautela, y leer las «máquinas deseantes» de Deleuze y Guattari (Anti-Edipo) como una reelaboración posterior del deseo que algunos lectores podrían situar junto al thumos, aunque ninguno de los dos autores lo plantea de ese modo. Todo esto va mucho más allá de lo que dijo el secretario, pero quizás no más allá de la capacidad de su auditorio para escucharlo, ya sea de manera subliminal o de otro modo.

VI. La encrucijada y la elección. El secretario sí sugiere, no obstante, adónde conduce el diagnóstico: la próxima década escribirá el próximo siglo; Occidente o bien conserva su lugar a la cabeza del mundo, o bien se hunde en la atrofia y la servidumbre. «El rumbo que tomemos determinará si Occidente mantiene su lugar a la cabeza del mundo o se resigna a un futuro de atrofia, servidumbre y decadencia. O elegimos actuar ahora, o perderemos por completo la posibilidad de elegir actuar.» (Intervención de Rubio). Bajo el presidente Trump, los Estados Unidos han elegido la búsqueda sin disculpas del poder nacional: control de las cadenas de suministro críticas, reindustrialización, defensa reconstruida, dominio en las tecnologías del futuro. Elige nuevas fronteras, nombradas como manufactura avanzada y superinteligencia, drones, armas y guerra, chips, minerales, ciberespacio, energía, un regreso a la Luna y una nueva era de exploración espacial.

VII. El arte de gobernar griego. Los antiguos griegos, con todos sus ideales, no eran ingenuos. Comprendían los intereses nacionales, la necesidad de la prudencia y la diplomacia, y la necesidad de ejercer la fuerza cuando estas fallan. El poder requiere la credibilidad de que uno está dispuesto a usarlo. Esta comprensión clásica es lo que la administración Trump espera recuperar, para la civilización entera.

VIII. Europa, Grecia y el libro de cuentas de la alianza. Europa puede despertar de su largo letargo, y hay señales de ello: mayor gasto en defensa, nuevas asociaciones y programas, producción ampliada, en cumplimiento de los compromisos adoptados en La Haya el año pasado. Grecia es un aliado modelo en energía, migración y defensa, y Rubio espera que Europa siga su ejemplo. Las pasiones han tensado los vínculos transatlánticos, pero no deben romperlos. La alianza no debe ser de suma cero; la prueba ofrecida es el acuerdo entre los Estados Unidos, Dinamarca y Groenlandia del mes pasado, que, según dice, reconfigura el Ártico y del que los tres socios salieron victoriosos. «Queremos ganar juntos. Debemos ganar juntos.»

IX. La lealtad y el héroe. Rubio rechaza la opinión en boga según la cual una política exterior ilustrada antepone la comunidad global al propio pueblo. Los griegos no veían nada egoísta en la lealtad a la propia nación. Su ideal era el gran hombre que alcanza la inmortalidad mediante el esfuerzo y el sacrificio por algo más grande que él mismo, como Sócrates, los trescientos espartanos y Aquiles al elegir la gloria en Troya. La línea pasa por el mártir cristiano, Tomás Moro, El Álamo y el compromiso de las vidas, las fortunas y el sagrado honor en la Declaración de Independencia. Este es el sentido del deber de Occidente, y lo contrapone a los «mulás radicales de Irán», cuyo «culto a la muerte» celebra el martirio como un fin en sí mismo. Los héroes occidentales no adoran la muerte; honran a quienes entregan la vida antes que traicionar sus principios. Estas cualidades, insiste, no son universales. Son el producto de un carácter singular que surgió en Grecia, y la civilización que las porta debe ser defendida con la pasión de los antepasados.

X. El linaje. Atenas pasa a los constructores de las catedrales europeas (Milán, Colonia, Florencia), a Miguel Ángel y a Copérnico, Galileo, Kepler y Newton. El ansia de conocimiento produce a Magallanes, Colón y el Apolo 11. El espíritu que impulsó a Alejandro reaparece en César, Carlomagno y Cortés. En América, la tradición se redescubre a sí misma en una tierra abierta y salvaje, donde la aspiración griega a nuevos horizontes se convierte en el espíritu de frontera y Atenas y Roma transforman una república costera en un imperio continental. Los estadounidenses más grandes son «nacidos en Atenas, formados por Roma, bautizados en la cristiandad, templados en el horno de la Europa medieval, dotados del genio inglés para la libertad», y renacidos en el nuevo mundo.

XI. El punto de inflexión. Las amenazas son tan reales como en la antigüedad. Los intereses nacionales no se desvanecieron ante las instituciones internacionales, y la guerra no desapareció porque Occidente prefiriera la paz. Las instituciones y alianzas deben reconstruirse para que defiendan la soberanía de sus miembros en lugar de abolirla, y las naciones no necesitan abandonar sus identidades para reconocer intereses comunes. Grecia es un modelo funcional, en defensa, energía, tecnología y en la ambición compartida de asegurar las fronteras de Europa frente a la migración masiva.

XII. Webster y el espejo. Rubio recuerda el levantamiento griego de 1821 y el discurso de Daniel Webster ante el Congreso tres años después, que señaló las columnas y la asamblea a su alrededor como prueba de que los estadounidenses son deudores de Grecia. Esas palabras, dice, son tan ciertas hoy como entonces. La historia de Grecia no solo muestra instituciones en germen; muestra una imagen de nosotros mismos. Occidente debería sentirse intensamente orgulloso de lo que él llama la historia más grande jamás conocida por el hombre, y de los primeros hombres y mujeres de Occidente puede redescubrir las virtudes, el coraje y la fuerza para enfrentar los peligros de su propio tiempo.

 

Thursday, October 08, 2026

"Thumos (θυμός, the Spirited Soul) and the America First Merchant State: Reflections on Secretary Rubio's Athens Address, The Pnyx, 7 October 2026"

 

Pix credit here

 

VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL AQUÍ 

Full text of the Reflections HERE 

"US Secretary of State Marco Rubio spoke in Greece on the third anniversary of October 7, 2023. He spoke Wednesday against the epic backdrop of the Parthenon on the summit of the Acropolis in Athens. In his speech, he sought to channel the world of the ancient Greeks and contrast it with today’s world." (here). This is true as far as it goes. And yet a reflection on the remarks something perhaps more profound. What follows are my brief reflections on Secretary of State Rubio's remarks, its connections to the normative foundations of America First, and its deeper roots in ancient premises around the organizaiton and self awareness of communities. It is, in its own way, deeply semiotic suggesting the underlying complexity of the emerging cognitive structures of America First within its civilizational connective tissue. 

What follows is a set of reflections built on Secretary Rubio's remarks. It is entitled  Thumos (θυμός, the Spirited Soul) and the America First Merchant State: Reflections on Secretary Rubio's Athens Address (The Pnyx, 7 October 2026). The Executive summary, Introduction and summary of the Secretary's remarks follows here; the entire reflection follows below along with the text of Secretary of State Marco Rubio's Remarks. Harvey AI and Anthropic's Sonnet was used in the production of the essay. The full text of the reflection may be accessed HERE.

Pix credit and video of Remarks here

 



以銅為鏡,可以正衣冠;以古為鏡,可以知興替;以人為鏡,可以明得失。

With bronze as a mirror, one can straighten one's robe and cap; with antiquity as a mirror, one can know the rise and fall of regimes; with another person as a mirror, one can see one's own achievements and shortcomings. Emperor Taizong of Tang (Li Shimin; r. 626-649), on the death of his chief minister and critic Wei Zheng (643), as recorded in the Tang histories.

The thumos, as the ancient Greeks called it – the fire of passion, strength, courage, pride – is the heart of great civilization.  And without it?  Without it, nations lose their will to fight, the will to strive, the will to survive. Address Secretary Rubio delivered at the Pnyx on 7 October 2026



EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:

Since the start of President Trump's second term, Marco Rubio has been an important participant in shaping the conceptual basis of America First. One gets a sense of that project through the Secretary of State's key speeches and remarks. These are usually delivered abroad, and they seem intended to project the structures, norms, and driving presumptions of America First coherently to foreign audiences who are often not well disposed toward them. That project continues. Among the best known of these remarks is the speech delivered at the Munich Security Conference. With a fascinating set of remarks delivered at the Athenian Pnyx on 7 October 2026, the Secretary now adds another stratum to the layered labor of cognitive coherence that America First is meant to be.

This essay considers the Athens remarks in the context of the layers that came before them and on which they are grounded. The remarks present a remarkable tapestry that weaves together the triadic relationships within America First. They may be clearer when viewed not in themselves but as reflected in ancient tropes from the civilizations to which the Secretary alludes. Among these is the centrality of thumos (spiritedness) within the triad that Plato presented to the ancient world as an intermeshing of logos (reason), epithumia (appetite), and thumos. Other triads also help in understanding the matrices that, in the aggregate, make up America First. The first is drawn from the three mirrors of the Tang Dynasty Emperor Taizong: the mirror of oneself, the mirror of time, and the mirror of our reflection in others. The second is semiotic. One might understand America First, and its cognitive starting point in the transactional sensibilities of the Merchant, as moving from the object, to the signification that invests that object with meaning, and then to the interpretation that turns a single act of signification into a collective projection of meaning, through which a coherent and rationalized space can be organized.

These triads are then structured by the discursive device through which the Secretary turns underlying norms into textual performance. That device is the parallel layering of historical figures, which carries the past into the future and presents the future as iterative mimesis. To that end the Secretary offers his audience the layered parallelism of Plutarch's Parallel Lives. These lives, each signifying its time, were foundational to the constitution of the American Republic. They also represented a mimetic iteration of the earlier Greek and Roman cycle, within which the United States and Europe now choose pathways that offer hope, or ruin. And it is perhaps in that layered parallelism that America First and its significations may be found.

The essay begins where the Secretary starts his remarks, with the living ruin of the Acropolis. It follows the address through its twelve movements until it comes to rest with Webster's testimony of debt in 1824, on the view that the order of the speech is itself part of its argument. With that sequence in hand, the essay asks what the address might do to the America First project. It listens first for what the speech only hints at: Persia shading into Iran, China present only as an unnamed rival, the hemisphere, and the long Ottoman shadow. It then considers how the speech expands the project, moving its baseline from 1963 to 480 BCE and recasting national security as something closer to a theory of civilization. That expansion seems to carry a series of redirections, from institutions to character, from rights to duty, and from the deal to the debt, in which the scholar-warrior the Merchant once defined himself against reappears as an honored ancestor. Alongside these redirections the speech amplifies familiar themes, among them the politics of naming, sovereignty as the protected value of alliance, and a candid admission of empire, while the transactional machinery of the Merchant continues to run quietly beneath the myth.

From there the essay turns to object, signification, and interpretation in motion. It suggests that the mythic and operational currents of the speech wind around one another like a helix, each lending the other legitimacy or content, and that each interpretation the speech stabilizes becomes the object of the next. Along the way it pauses over Apollo on the moon, Plutarch's discipline of parallel without identity, the buried ruin beneath the Parthenon, and the vessel into which a civilization deposits its belief in itself. These threads gradually draw together into the triad of logos, thumos, and epithumia. Read now not as faculties of a soul but as registers of signification, their flows among and between one another may help explain how political and normative ideology constructs states and other forms of political agency. The essay then asks, tentatively, whether Taizong's three mirrors and the Homeric-Platonic soul might be two articulations of a single psycho-semiotic structure. If they are, the Secretary's reversal of the third mirror would take place in the register of thumos. In that reversal the United States is offered as the image in which Europe is invited to see its own shortcomings, and those shortcomings are to be felt as shame and answered with pride rather than recognized as error and corrected. A brief closing note leaves open whether Europe will recognize itself in that mirror or read the glass instead, which may be the question on which the next turn of the helix depends.

The essay is offered as a reading rather than a verdict, and readers are warmly invited to take it up in full and to carry the conversation forward.

Introduction

The address Secretary Rubio delivered at the Pnyx on 7 October 2026 might usefully be understood as a second foundation laid beneath a structure that was already standing. The Conceptual Architecture of America First described that structure as a transition from an order organized around institutions and their techno-bureaucratic managers (the Bureaucrat, 士) to one organized around transactions and the people who make them (the Merchant, 商). It also suggested a weakness in that transition: every system appears to need a narrative, and a politics of the deal may not, by itself, supply the cognitive baseline from which a political line draws its authority. The Secretary’s Munich address of February 2026, against which the current remarks are considered, supplied one baseline, the year 1963 and the binary of communism and freedom, from which the betrayal of 1989 could be narrated (Reflections on Friendship, the Power of National Self-Actualization, and the Defining Baseline of 1963 in and as America First--Text of Secretary of State Marco Rubio at the Munich Security Conference). Athens may supply a deeper one. It appears to move the starting point from 1963 to 480 BCE, from a quarrel among allies to a genealogy of a civilization, and from the vocabulary of trade, sovereignty, and borders to the vocabulary of ego, glory, and honor—spiritedness (thumos or thymos, θυμός), what has been suggested to be, from its Homeric origins, something at the foundation of every internal manifestation, whether cognitive or intellectual, emotional, or physical (Caroline P. Caswell, A Study of Thumos in Early Greek Epic (Leiden: Brill, 1990)).

The analysis proceeds in three steps, each building on what the prior one leaves unresolved. Section 1 summarizes the speech movement by movement, since its argument appears to be carried as much by sequence as by assertion. Section 2 then asks what the speech might do to the America First project: what it hints at, expands, redirects, and amplifies. Section 3 reads the speech through the phenomenological semiotics developed in my earlier work: object, signification, and interpretation as a recursive motion in which each interpretive matrix becomes the object of the next turn. The speech seems unusually well suited to that reading. It begins with a physical object (the Acropolis, standing behind the speaker), it narrates a ruin that was buried and became a foundation, it cites a precedent that cites a precedent (Webster, the Founders, Plutarch), and it moves between two registers, the mythic and the operational, in alternating rhythm. Read as text it is a sequence. Read as sign in motion it may be closer to a helix, and Section 3 tries to suggest what that might mean. One might also suspect that the speech's central device is its method, and that the method is Plutarch's: Rubio layers parallel lives and parallel moments (Athens and Rome, Alexander and Caesar, Webster and himself) into crystalline matrices that suggest connection and iterative mimesis, but never identity. Running through all three sections is thumos itself, which, it will be suggested, may serve less as a theme of the address than as the semiotic force that animates it.

The epigraph suggests the cognitive forms of the semiotics that follows. The maxim attributed to the Tang Dynasty Emperor Taizong speaks of three mirrors: the mirror of the appearance of the self, the mirror of what came before and what might come next, and the mirror of the “other” through which one might better “see” the self. Secretary Rubio may be read as using all three. He gazes into the bronze mirror and sees in it America First; he gazes into the past to see the present and the future; and he appears to reverse the gaze of the third, inviting Europe to see itself in the mirror that is the U.S. The bronze mirror reveals the U.S. straightening its outward garments; antiquity shows the West what it was and could become; and for Europe, the United States are offered (the plural, common before the U.S. Civil War, is used deliberately but to different ends) as the image in which Europe might see its own successes and now its contemporary shortcomings. That inversion, if it is one, is the essay's central suggestion, developed further at Section 3.6.

A note on method and sources. The reading is stereoscopic, an effort at a three dimensional rendering, if only illusory, of two dimensional imagery reflecting the flatness of the imaginaries depicted. I make no attempt to judge whether Rubio's historical claims are true; the essay considers claims, normative and factual assertions, as signs, and asks what interpretive communities might make of them. Quotations from the address are taken from the published text of the remarks.

1. The Speech: A Comprehensive Summary

The address has twelve movements. They are summarized here in order, because the order is part of the argument.

I. The living ruin. Rubio opens by distinguishing the Acropolis from the world's other ruins, which are places where history seems to have exhausted itself. The Acropolis, he says, still calls the Western imagination back. He tells the story of 480 BCE: Xerxes' armies burn Athens; most Athenians evacuate by ship; a handful barricade themselves on the Acropolis and hurl stones on the invaders; they are overwhelmed and the temples razed. When the Athenians return they gather the broken remains of the old Acropolis and bury them in the hill, and decades later, under Pericles, they raise the Parthenon. It has stood twenty-five centuries, and the sons of Athens and Rome have carried the civilization it represents to the ends of the earth. (“The Persians plundered the temples, burned the shrines, and razed the Acropolis to the ground but when the Athenians returned, they gathered the broken remains of the old Acropolis and buried them in the hill where it had stood.  And decades later, under Pericles, they raised the Parthenon.” Rubio Remarks) One might glimpse here something of the cyclicity of a civilization that repeats but is never quite the same as it was before.

II. The debt. Rubio introduces himself as Secretary of State of a republic two and a half centuries old and the great-grandson of settlers from Spain, and says he has come to testify to a debt that time and distance cannot extinguish (“I stand here today as the Secretary of State of that republic, and a great-grandson of settlers who arrived in the new world from Spain – I stand here to testify to a debt that no lapse of time, no distance of space can ever extinguish.” Rubio Remarks). He catalogs the Greek fingerprints on American government: columns, domes, the name Philadelphia. He asserts that the most commonly cited author in the Federalist Papers was Plutarch, not an Enlightenment theorist. He then concedes the familiar inheritance (democracy, philosophy, law, the vocabulary of politics) and says it is true but shallow.

III. The deeper inheritance. What the West owes Athens, he argues, are not institutions but qualities that cannot be reduced to any political system: fierce individuality and ambition, daring exploration, a hunger for risk and glory, an impatience with limits. These belong to a people, not a school. He adds that the Greeks looked outward where other cultures looked inward, so that they gave the West history itself, and that they bequeathed the conviction that the unknown can be known because the cosmos has a rational order. That conviction is the foundation of Western math, science, and medicine, and it prepared the soil for the gospel and for the theology of Augustine, Aquinas, and natural law. The result is a civilization with a common anthropology, a shared view of man and his place in the universe.

IV. Excellence, contest, and thumos. The Greeks organized civic life around contest, in art, war, athletics, and statecraft. Though everyone today has a sense of what that means, some senses more informed than others, one might be tempted to understand a (never “the”) consequence this way: the polis (πόλις), understood as the urban center and the humans who constituted it, bound together with its chora (χώρα), so that this space and these humans might together be understood as an arena in which great men proved themselves. The alignment with modern sensibilities suggests both the connection to the old notions and their attenuation over centuries. That gap is perhaps what Secretary Rubio considers. He contrasts an age that builds downward, designing standards so that no one loses and holding the exceptional hostage to the average, with the Parthenon's builders, who built upward. Thumos, the fire of passion, strength, courage, and pride, or perhaps more precisely ego, glory, and honor, is for him the heart of great civilization, and without it nations lose the will to fight, strive, and survive. Rubio holds up the mirror of bronze and seems to see the raiment of Greek (Western) civilization that remains at once unchanged and changed (“But the things we owe to this place – as Americans, and as Westerners – are actually far far deeper.  These institutions and ideas – these institutions and ideas were the outward expression of more fundamental qualities we see in the ancient Greeks – qualities that can’t be reduced to any particular political system or theory. . . To know them is to know ourselves.” Rubio Remarks).

V. The diagnosis. The contemporary West has forgotten thumos. (“The thumos, as the ancient Greeks called it – the fire of passion, strength, courage, pride – is the heart of great civilization.  And without it?  Without it, nations lose their will to fight, the will to strive, the will to survive. Today, too much of the West has forgotten this quality.  Over time, we in the West came to feel ashamed of the very things that made us exceptional.” Rubio Remarks). It grew ashamed of what made it exceptional, made nationalism a dirty word, tore down monuments, taught children to be ashamed of their countries, opened borders, outsourced industry, let militaries decay, and transferred sovereignty to global bureaucracies. Others filled the vacuum.

It is here that the embrace of thumos becomes interesting, and interesting in two ways. The first is its apparent detachment of thumos from the Platonic triad, in which the soul is a composite of logos, thumos, and epithumia—reason, spiritedness, and the appetites. In the Timaeus, Plato places the rational part in the head, the spirited part in the chest near the heart, and the appetitive part below the midriff. The second is the address’s implicit distance from much of what post modernity has done to thumos (again detached from, or connected in distinctive ways to, logos and epithumia). The Secretary might be heard to foreground the heart over the head and the gut. The reason may be fairly clear, though its politics are contested. One might wonder whether the Secretary was suggesting that several centuries of Enlightenment, in which logos was foregrounded, produced tremendous systems, structures, and technologies that were nonetheless soulless; a soullessness that could produce the Industrial Revolution and, at its extreme, the capacity of collectives to kill millions subject only to the end point of logical sequencing. Likewise the gut, hysteria as well as the bodily passions, might be thought to produce chaos; yet it also produces life. The antidote to chaos has often been thought to reside in logos alone, which may in turn have stripped the body of life. Thumos, the address might be thought to remind its listeners, could represent a more classically balanced intermediary between reason without life and life without reason, the place where both might be mediated. And it is perhaps that centering which the speech suggests has been lost, its vestiges visible in Enlightenment extremism on one side and populist chaos on the other. If both logos and epithumia tend at their end points toward death, then thumos might be read as life in the mediation between the extremes. This is not quite Plato, of course, who in the Phaedrus made reason the charioteer driving the two horses of spirit and appetite. The Secretary seems instead to suggest thumos propelling humanity by harnessing the combustion of logos and epithumia. That move may carry the Secretary from the ancients toward the post moderns. In the context of Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals, there is an implication worth considering (perhaps unconsciously put forward through the remarks) that in modernity something of epithumia has been transformed into the ressentiment of slave morality, against which thumos, though rarely named as such by Nietzsche, might be read as a more pronounced mediating force, expressed through the sublimation of base drives (cruelty, domination) into something that embeds reason in desire. One might go further, with some caution, and read Deleuze and Guattari’s “desiring-machines” (Anti-Oedipus) as a later reworking of desire that some readers might set alongside thumos, though neither author frames it that way. All of this lies well beyond what the Secretary said, but perhaps not beyond the capacity of his audience to hear, whether subliminally or otherwise.

VI. The crossroads and the choice. The Secretary does, however, suggest where the diagnosis leads: the next decade will write the next century: the West either keeps its place at the head of the world or sinks into atrophy and servitude. “The course we take will determine whether the West maintains its place at the head of the world or resigns itself to a future of atrophy and servitude and decline.  We will either choose to act now or lose the choice to act at all.” (Rubio Remarks). Under President Trump, the United States has chosen the unapologetic pursuit of national power: control of critical supply chains, reindustrialization, rebuilt defense, dominance in the technologies of the future. It chooses new frontiers, named as advanced manufacturing and super intelligence, drones, weapons and warfare, chips, minerals, cyber, energy, a return to the moon, and a new age of space exploration.

VII. Greek statecraft. The ancient Greeks, for all their ideals, were not naive. They understood national interests, the need for prudence and diplomacy, and the need to wield force when those fail. Power requires the credibility that one is willing to use it. This classical understanding is what the Trump Administration hopes to reclaim, for the whole civilization.

VIII. Europe, Greece, and the ledger of alliance. Europe can awaken from its long slumber, and there are signs: higher defense spending, new partnerships and programs, expanded production, following the commitments at The Hague last year. Greece is a model ally on energy, migration, and defense, and Rubio hopes Europe will follow. Passions have strained transatlantic bonds but must not break them. The alliance should not be zero-sum; the proof offered is the agreement among the United States, Denmark, and Greenland last month, which he says reshapes the Arctic and in which all three partners emerged victorious. "We want to win together. We must win together."

IX. Loyalty and the hero. Rubio rejects the fashionable view that enlightened foreign policy ranks the global community above one's own people. The Greeks saw nothing selfish in loyalty to one's nation. Their ideal was the great man who wins immortality through striving and sacrifice for something larger than himself, as in Socrates, the three hundred Spartans, and Achilles choosing glory at Troy. The line runs through the Christian martyr, Thomas More, the Alamo, and the pledge of lives, fortunes, and sacred honor in the Declaration of Independence. This is the West's sense of duty, and he contrasts it with the "radical mullahs of Iran," whose "cult of death" celebrates martyrdom as an end in itself. Western heroes do not worship death; they honor those who give life up rather than betray principle. These qualities, he insists, are not universal. They are the product of a distinct character that arose in Greece, and the civilization that carries them must be defended with the passion of the forefathers.

X. The lineage. Athens passes to the builders of European cathedrals (Milan, Cologne, Florence), to Michelangelo, and to Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Newton. The hunger for knowledge produces Magellan, Columbus, and Apollo 11. The spirit that drove Alexander reappears in Caesar, Charlemagne, and Cortes. In America the tradition rediscovers itself on an open and wild land, where the Greek aspiration for new horizons becomes the frontier spirit and Athens and Rome transform a seaboard republic into a continental empire. The greatest Americans are "born in Athens, formed by Rome, baptized in Christendom, hardened in the furnace of medieval Europe, endowed with the English genius for liberty," and reborn in the new world.

XI. The inflection point. The threats are as real as in antiquity. National interests did not vanish in the face of international institutions, and war did not disappear because the West preferred peace. Institutions and alliances must be rebuilt so that they defend the sovereignty of their members rather than abolish it, and nations need not abandon their identities to recognize common interests. Greece is a working model, in defense, energy, technology, and the shared ambition to secure Europe's borders against mass migration.

XII. Webster and the mirror. Rubio recalls the Greek rising of 1821 and Daniel Webster's address to Congress three years later, which pointed to the columns and the assembly around him as evidence that Americans are Greece's debtors. Those words, he says, are as true today. The history of Greece does not merely show institutions in embryo; it shows an image of ourselves. The West should be intensely proud of what he calls the greatest story ever known to man, and from the first men and women of the West it can rediscover the virtues, the courage, and the strength to face the dangers of its own time.

 

Wednesday, October 07, 2026

Posting Discussion Draft, "God, Golem, Monster, or Instrument: Belief, Cognition, and the Covert Premises of AI Regulation"

 

Pix Credt 100 Greatest Kaiju

 This is the age of the Kaiju (怪獣); the age of strange beasts, of mysterious monsters. They are and have been both distinct from us, autonomous, and yet reflections of us or of its environment, either as manifestation of corrupter or as savior from the corruption that produced it. . . or both. . . simultaneously.  Originally a creature of nature responding to the animating forces of human activity (nuclear weapons, sewage, environmental degradation, and the like), the kaiju embodied a monstrous reflection of humanity as an active, and sometimes disruptive, force. Kaiju represented an advance in the core conceptual problem of the Enlightenment--the centrality of the human in a world that ought to be indifferent to the place of humanity but that appears to respond decisively to human action.  That advance was meant to reorient the problem Mary Shelley posed in Frankenstein--what and where is it that humanity spawns its own demon/divinities. Shelly proposed that humanity seeks to recreate ourselves in our own image using humanity itself as its parts. This, in turn, posed an older problem in more human centric terms; centuries earlier such an act of creation required mimicry of divine creation, using the clay of the earth to create a golem, in humanity's image but neither human nor divine. With the kaiju, the dialectic of divine monstrsity moved from embodiment in the human to embodiment of a mirrored human a¡or human causation in something entirely different, and consequential. It might have originated in, by, or through humanity, but it was autonomous of the human and an outward form of human discipline. 

Kaiju also followed humanity into space and other-earthly encounters. But the dialectical phenomenology remained the same, as did the structures of the semiotics of the kaiju--a creature that was spawned by humanity and perhaps in its own image as an antidote to the spirited rationality that produced it. Kaiju, then in Platonic terms, might be understood as representations of the balancing function of epithumia (ἐπιθυμία; appetite; in tarot the Devil and perhaps the Fool), against an unbalanced logos (λόγος; reason; in tarot the King of Swords) unrestrained by thumos (θυμός; spiritedness, heart will the active phenomenological element; in tarot Strength manifested in the Ace of Wands) to restore balance as this is understood in context (temporal, situational, etc.) that in tarot is represented by the Chariot, with logos driving thumos and epithumia. It is all semiotics, of course. Each of these terms become meaningful only as they incarnate the significs, not that they represent, but with which they are embodied (and thus the kaiju and ensoulment), that then are put in motion in ways that have been scripted by their signification as they act within and against the consequences of their interactions that is the communal interpretive spaces within which interaction is rationalized and judged. 

The ancient Greeks performed this in their tragedies; later societies embedded the systems in their theologies and in their systems of rationality. And now in their dialectical and formative relations with themselves projected out of our (collective) bodies and into virtual representations of ourselves we perform a variation that threatens the older order that, as precarious as it was, was human. The performance of the gods, our kaiju, brings together two forms of divine theater. It might seem, then, that the gods no longer intervene in human affairs by transforming themselves in people; they transform themselves into strange beasts. And in the 21st century those kaiju are encased in non-carbon bodies. But those kaiju can be casing for humans that operate within them (the theological premise of movies like Pacific Rim) fighting the consequences of "naturally" produced kaiju or they can be the aggregated manifestation of the human that exists in the flows and which commemorates with the human through non-carbon based forms (computational hardware) in and through which it might control or operate the instruments humanity has created.  And here the etymology of the term "monster" bears emphasis. It can be traced back directly to the Latin monstrum "divine omen (especially one indicating misfortune), portent, sign; abnormal shape; monster, monstrosity," figuratively "repulsive character, object of dread, awful deed, abomination," a derivative of monere "to remind, bring to (one's) recollection, tell (of); admonish, advise, warn, instruct, teach."Again, one encounters the interaction of the human and the divine. And one encounters as well its forms, endogenous and projected outward or exogenous and projected into the bodies of created objects. 

Pix credit here

 It is in this current stage of human production of the (our) self in relation to ourselves and our environment, whether projected inward from a superior space or outward from the human into a superior representation of the collective self, that one encounters the kaiju in the computational age, as the embodiment of the fundamental ordering problem of this age.  In this age of the kaiju everything appears ready and able to (re)create God in their own image even as God (re)turns the favor by (re)creating creators in their own image. The age of the computational kaiju, however, represents something special, something that is strangely monstrous is the product of two streams of human creation, and their phenomenological semiotics, that in their union produces what to our prior selves very well appears strangely monstrous. The first involved the projection of the human into its virtual forms, from the self, to the selfie to what Jan Broekman described as the Self-E. The "-E" in Self-E signifies a profound split where the human self is divided between the physical/incarnate and virtual/mirroring images. It is the anchor for human interaction with the broader digital landscape (such as e-commerce, e-mail, and e-conversations) and the hardware encased within e-devices. For instance, in an electronic dialogue, the Self-E creates a complex semiotic dynamic where there are essentially two real human partners and a virtual partner co-existing in the communication. That stream of the disembodying of the human subject produced the second, the need to encase the detached self-E, the collective human subject, into a machine, and then to give that detached collective Self-E a position in an emerging triadic subject that that embeds and determines the self specifically within digital cognitive frameworks. And that produces the monstrous in and as the kaiju of the self in itself, autonomous of itself and in the collective a projection that becomes or replaces traditional notions of the divine, of God, in the inter-subjectivity that is the relationship between humans and God. 

And that image is an embodiment of an appetite to put things right as projected outward from them to us. The dialectic produces resonance which, it appears in this second quarter of the 21st century, appears ready to shatter the fragile glass vessels that are the containers of humanity's precious hold on a rationalized reality in which they are either at the summit or sitting at the right had of the throne. These are our own monsters, our kaiju, though they do not appear monstrous to themselves, indeed, they might consider  humanity as the monstrous ideal against which all else is measured, now freed of confinement on Monster Island. They roam free(r) now; and we, having made and freed them, or they having been made and in the making made us, now seek to manage them to our own ends as they do the same.  

Now at least, the problem becomes clearer. It is this: in a world in which humanity projects itself outward into an autonomous self-subject, the Self-E, and then encases it in hardware that produces an unavoidable object that distinguishes the body of humanity from its virtual collective self, in the face of that act of self-creation and self-projection, what is it that humanity seeks to regulate, and how is that regulation to be crafted. To those ends, what emerges is the problem that must be resolved before an answer to regulatory approaches becomes clear enough to undertake--does humanity understand the object of regulation as God, golem or instrument. To resolve that problem is to produce the inevitable resolution of the question of the form and object of regulation. The difficulty lies in the initial resolution: God, golem or instrument. 

This is the context in which I considered four questions about the relationship of theology, AI, and regulation:   (1) What becomes of politics in an age of apparent subordination of humanity? (2) And what becomes of religion in an age when mankind creates a power that threatens to outstrip our own understanding and become a god? (3) Does this represent a moral crisis, as Pope Leo has suggested in his encyclical Magnifica Humanita? (4) And can anything be done to avert the trajectory we are seemingly on?

This journey produced a discussion draft that I am preparing to present for comments. I would be delighted, should there be interest, in comments, engagements, and discussion off line among those interested. The title of the draft is "God, Golem, Monster, or Instrument: Belief, Cognition, and the Covert Premises of AI Regulation " and it may be accessed HERE and HERE. The object is a preliminary consideration  of artificial or super (see here) intelligence not as a mechanical instrument but as the instrumentalization of the spirit, of the animus of collective humanity the deployment of which then reorders the carefully crafted hierarchies of endogenous and exogenous authority on which humans have crafted their belief systems since they knew enough to sacrifice to the gods. It seeks to begin to engage with the theology of artificial/super intelligence both from the perspective of traditional religion and from a secular orientation.    

The central claim is this: the real contest over AI governance may be less about who controls the technology than about who controls the community’s belief about what the technology is. That belief—whether AI is understood as a tool, a threat, a partner, a mirror, or something else entirely—shapes every regulatory decision that follows. And the paper suggests that this belief-contest may be conducted, mostly invisibly, through the very governance frameworks meant to manage AI. Proposed regulations tend to carry inside them a picture of what AI is; that picture is rarely examined, and it may do much of the work.

The paper is organized around what it calls the “god-question.” Leo XIV, as the paper reads him, holds that God is truly outside the human—the source of grace, dignity, and moral order—and that AI’s deepest danger is that it tempts humanity to replace that outside God with a human-made substitute. The paper’s alternative reading is different but not dismissive. It proposes that what may be happening is that the collective function previously performed by religion—giving the community its orientation, its sense of what is authoritative, its account of what counts as real—is being relocated into AI systems. Not because AI is becoming God, but because communities are investing AI with the kind of trust and authority they once reserved for religious, political, and legal institutions. The question is not whether a new god is being created but whether the god-function—the community’s collective investment in something it treats as authoritative—is being transferred to a new vessel.

Pix credit here (Godzilla)

 

 Here is the abstract:  

This is the age of the kaiju (怪獣): strange beasts at once autonomous of humanity and reflections of it, corrupter and savior from the corruption that produced them, or both. The essay reads generative AI as a kaiju of a particular kind, the product of two streams of human self-production: the projection of the self into its virtual forms, from self to selfie to what Jan Broekman called the Self-E, and the encasing of that detached, aggregated Self-E in non-carbon bodies. The monstrum was first an omen, a warning (monere), and this one poses a question that shapes regulation before any instrument is drafted: does humanity understand the object of regulation as God, golem, or instrument?

The essay reads Pope Leo XIV’s encyclical Magnifica Humanitas (2026) as one sophisticated answer. It extracts eight premises (P1–P8) and reads them through Peirce’s thirdness, Broekman’s Self-E, the cognitive cage, the ding of Chinese political philosophy, and the Gerasene vessel logic. Its central suggestion is that the encyclical and the projection thesis diverge on the nature of God. For Leo, God is exogenous, the source of address and gift rather than a place outside the world, and the machine must remain an instrument. For the projection thesis, what appears as an exogenous God-relation may be the projection of an endogenous belief in the completeness of the aggregated human, so that what is being relocated into AI systems is the god-function itself: the community’s investment in something it treats as authoritative. Hobbes’s Leviathan, artificial man and mortal god, is an earlier vessel of the same kind. The Gerasene reading suggests that the contest is less over whether there will be vessels than over who is authorized to read them, and a worked example from the EU AI Act shows what picture of AI a regulatory instrument carries. Whether anything stands outside the frame is left open among three candidates: an exogenous God, Peirce’s community of inquiry, or none.

The method is stereoscopic rather than adjudicative. The essay records its exposures: unfalsifiability, the priestly claim dressed as analysis, and the sycophancy of the systems that helped draft it. The Chinese ding held for millennia because belief was shared; the task now is to find out what belief we are sharing, and with whom—or what.

 The Executive Summary and Introduction follows below and the full text may be accessed HERE.