Gray – Late Style

John Gray is an erodite and pursuasive thinker, but he has his critics. What are the main issues on which they disagree with him?

John Gray is an incisive and often contrarian thinker, but his work has drawn significant criticism on several fronts. Here are the main areas where his critics take issue with him:

1. His Critique of Human Progress

What Gray Argues: He rejects the idea that history is a story of moral or intellectual progress. He sees human nature as largely unchanging, with recurring cycles of violence and self-delusion.
Criticism: Many argue that he downplays real social, technological, and ethical advancements. While human nature may not change, institutions, norms, and knowledge structures do, and these have led to genuine improvements in quality of life, human rights, and governance.

2. His Pessimism About Liberalism

What Gray Argues: He views liberalism as another utopian ideology, akin to communism or religious eschatology, believing that its promise of universal progress is naive.
Criticism: Some believe his critique is too sweeping and ignores the flexibility of liberalism, which is not necessarily utopian but adaptive. Critics like Amartya Sen or Steven Pinker argue that liberal democracy, despite its flaws, has led to significant global benefits.

3. His Alleged Relativism and Nihilism

What Gray Argues: He is skeptical of grand narratives, including secular humanism, and often suggests that meaning is ultimately contingent and constructed.
Criticism: Some accuse him of moral relativism or even quietism—suggesting that if all values are arbitrary, then there is no basis for moral action. Others argue that he dismisses the possibility of objective ethics too easily.

4. His Treatment of Religion

What Gray Argues: He rejects both religious belief and militant atheism, seeing both as different manifestations of the same need for meaning. He respects religious traditions as sources of wisdom but does not see them as true.
Criticism: Religious thinkers argue that he treats belief too cynically, while New Atheists (like Richard Dawkins) argue that he gives religion too much credit as a cultural force.

5. His Selective Use of History

What Gray Argues: He frequently cites historical examples of human folly, ideological failure, and violence to argue against progress.
Criticism: Critics accuse him of cherry-picking evidence, emphasizing the worst episodes of history while downplaying counterexamples of successful social and political reform.

Would you say any of these criticisms resonate with you, or do you find Gray’s skepticism refreshing?

Did this affect how Straw Dogs was received?

Yes, Straw Dogs (2002) was both widely praised and sharply criticized, precisely because of the themes you mentioned. It was a provocative and uncompromising attack on humanist assumptions, and its reception reflected the divisions in opinion about Gray’s worldview.

Praise for Straw Dogs

Many readers, especially those disillusioned with Western liberal optimism, found it a bracing antidote to comforting myths about progress and human rationality.
Critics admired its erudition and literary style, as well as its willingness to challenge sacred cows of both religious and secular thought.
Some thinkers, like the philosopher Simon Critchley, appreciated its stark honesty in confronting the limits of human agency.

Criticism of Straw Dogs

Pessimism and Fatalism
- Critics like Terry Eagleton and Steven Pinker argued that Gray’s rejection of progress leads to an almost nihilistic worldview that offers no guidance for action.
- By asserting that humans will always be trapped by their instincts and illusions, Gray seemed to deny the possibility of meaningful ethical or political change.
Misrepresentation of Humanism
- Many defenders of secular humanism (including John Gray’s fellow atheists) argued that he caricatured humanist thought, portraying it as naïve and quasi-religious when, in reality, many humanists recognize suffering and contingency without resorting to utopianism.
Selective Use of Evidence
- Critics accused Gray of cherry-picking historical examples of violence and failure while ignoring evidence of real social progress, such as reductions in extreme poverty and improvements in human rights.
- Steven Pinker, in The Better Angels of Our Nature, explicitly challenged Gray’s view by presenting data-driven arguments for moral progress.
What Does He Actually Offer?
- While Gray dismantled prevailing ideas about human purpose, critics noted that he offered little in their place. Some found his position too detached, amounting to an elegant form of cynicism rather than a constructive alternative.
- Eagleton quipped that Straw Dogs was essentially telling people to “roll over and have their tummies tickled by fate.”

Overall Reception

Straw Dogs became a cult classic among those disillusioned with modern ideologies.
However, it also reinforced Gray’s reputation as a “negative thinker”—more skilled at tearing down ideas than building new ones.
The book cemented his status as an outsider in contemporary philosophical debates, admired for his sharp critique but often dismissed as offering little in the way of solutions.

Did you find Straw Dogs compelling, or did you have reservations about its bleakness?

In terms of rationalism, if the long-term effect of any action is difficult to predict (because of complexity of interactions), how can any decision be informed?

That’s a deep and difficult question, and it touches on the limits of rationalism, especially when applied to decision-making in complex systems. If long-term outcomes are inherently unpredictable due to the complexity of interactions, how can we make rational choices at all? Here are a few possible ways to think about this problem:

1. Pragmatism Over Prediction

Rather than trying to predict the long-term consequences of every action, we can adopt a pragmatic approach:

Focus on short- to medium-term effects that are more predictable.
Make decisions based on what is most likely to work now, adjusting as new information emerges.
Accept that course correction is often necessary, rather than expecting to get it right from the start.

This aligns with Karl Popper’s idea of piecemeal social engineering—small, incremental changes that can be tested and revised, rather than grand, utopian projects that rely on accurate long-term forecasting.

2. Use Probabilistic Thinking

Even in complex systems, we can assign probabilities to different outcomes based on past patterns and empirical data. While certainty is impossible, rational decision-making often works on likelihoods rather than absolute predictions.

Bayesian reasoning—updating beliefs as new evidence comes in—is an example of this.
Risk assessment models work similarly: instead of predicting one definite future, they estimate possible risks and weigh options accordingly.

3. Focus on Principles, Not Outcomes

If long-term effects are unpredictable, one response is to shift decision-making from outcome-based reasoning (consequentialism) to principle-based reasoning (deontology or virtue ethics).

Instead of asking, “What will bring about the best outcome?” (which is often unknowable), we might ask, “What is the most ethical course of action based on principles we value?”
This doesn’t eliminate risk, but it means actions are guided by intrinsic values rather than speculative forecasting.

4. Embrace Complexity with Adaptive Strategies

Systems thinking suggests that instead of looking for linear cause-effect chains, we should recognize feedback loops, unintended consequences, and emergent properties.
Instead of rigid plans, adaptive strategies—which involve continuous monitoring and adjustment—are often more effective.
This is how complex systems like ecosystems or economies function: through trial, error, and resilience, rather than perfect foresight.

5. Ethical Minimalism: First, Do No Harm

In situations of extreme uncertainty, it may be rational to minimize potential harm rather than maximize potential benefit.
This aligns with Nassim Taleb’s “via negativa” principle—removing potential dangers or fragilities rather than trying to optimize for an unpredictable future.

Conclusion

While long-term prediction is unreliable, rational decision-making is still possible through pragmatism, probabilistic reasoning, principle-based ethics, adaptive strategies, and harm minimization.

Gray himself might argue that our attempts to fully control the future are a human delusion. But rather than abandoning rational action altogether, we can adopt a humble, experimental, and adaptable approach to decision-making.

Does this framework resonate with you, or do you lean toward a more skeptical view of rationalism’s limits?

Why does philosopher Simon Critchley appreciate Gray’s stark honesty in confronting the limits of human agency?

Simon Critchley, like John Gray, is deeply skeptical of grand narratives—whether religious, political, or secular—that claim to offer ultimate meaning or moral progress. While Critchley does not fully agree with Gray’s conclusions, he appreciates Gray’s stark honesty in confronting the limits of human agency for several reasons:

1. Rejection of Human Exceptionalism

Critchley, like Gray, challenges the idea that humans are in control of their own destiny in any deep sense. Both philosophers reject the notion that human reason or ethics will lead to a utopian future. Critchley admires Gray’s unflinching critique of human self-deception, particularly our tendency to believe that we can master history, nature, or even ourselves.

2. Gray’s Relentless Anti-Humanism

Gray’s critique of secular humanism—especially the belief that reason and science will progressively liberate humanity—resonates with Critchley’s own suspicion of Enlightenment optimism. Gray sees humanism as just another myth, and Critchley appreciates the ruthlessness with which Gray dismantles comforting illusions.

3. Facing Up to Absurdity Without Consolation

Critchley, influenced by existentialist thought (especially Camus), shares Gray’s conviction that there is no inherent meaning in the universe. However, unlike many contemporary thinkers who try to fill the void with political ideologies, progressive ethics, or spirituality, Gray refuses to offer any false consolation. Critchley respects this radical honesty, even if it leads to bleak conclusions.

4. A Shared Interest in Tragic Wisdom

Both thinkers are drawn to tragedy as a form of wisdom. They see history not as a story of progress but as a cycle of recurring failures, delusions, and self-destruction. Critchley, whose work explores the role of grief, loss, and ethical responsibility, sees Gray’s work as an important, if unsettling, reminder of the limits of human ambition.

5. A Critique of Political and Philosophical Hubris

Critchley, like Gray, is critical of grand ideological projects—whether Marxist, neoliberal, or religious—because they often lead to disastrous consequences when applied rigidly. He appreciates Gray’s willingness to puncture intellectual arrogance, even if he may not share Gray’s total rejection of political action.

Where They Differ

While Critchley appreciates Gray’s honesty, he does not fully endorse his quietism—the idea that since history is cyclical and human agency is limited, we should withdraw from attempts to change the world. Critchley leans more toward an ethics of small-scale, local engagement, influenced by Levinas and anarchist thought. In contrast, Gray sometimes seems to suggest that the wisest course is to retreat into a kind of philosophical resignation.

Final Thought

Critchley sees value in Gray’s merciless clarity about the human condition. Even if one disagrees with Gray’s extreme skepticism, his unwillingness to sugarcoat reality makes him a necessary, if uncomfortable, voice in contemporary thought.

Do you find Gray’s stark realism illuminating, or do you think he goes too far into fatalism?

You say, Critchley leans more toward an ethics of small-scale, local engagement, influenced by Levinas and anarchist thought. Tell me more about this

Simon Critchley’s ethical and political thought emphasizes small-scale, local engagement rather than grand ideological programs or state-driven politics. His approach is influenced by Emmanuel Levinas and elements of anarchist thought, both of which shape his belief that ethics begins in direct human relationships rather than abstract principles or large-scale systems.

1. Levinas: Ethics as Responsibility to the Other

Critchley draws heavily from Levinas, who argues that ethics is rooted in the face-to-face encounter with the Other. This means:

Ethics is not about universal laws or grand theories (as in Kant or utilitarianism) but about the irreducible, personal responsibility we have toward others.
The presence of the Other interrupts our self-centeredness and calls us to respond with care and obligation.
Ethics is pre-political—it starts in the immediacy of human relationships rather than in state structures or legal systems.

Critchley takes this to mean that meaningful ethical action happens in small, everyday acts of care and solidarity, rather than through ambitious, large-scale political schemes that often lead to unintended harm.

2. Anarchism: Rejecting Top-Down Power in Favor of Local, Collective Action

Critchley’s interest in anarchist thought (especially thinkers like Kropotkin and Gustav Landauer) aligns with his skepticism of centralized power and large-scale revolutionary politics. Instead, he favors:

Decentralized, cooperative structures rather than state-led governance.
Direct action and grassroots activism rather than electoral politics or violent revolutions.
The idea that society is built from below, through everyday relationships and mutual aid, rather than imposed from above by governments or ideologies.

This leads him to reject both liberal optimism and revolutionary utopianism, which he sees as often leading to disillusionment and authoritarianism.

3. Politics as Humility, Not Mastery

Unlike Gray, who tends to see politics as futile or delusional, Critchley believes that political engagement is necessary, but it must be done with humility—recognizing that we are not in control of history and that we can only make small, local improvements.

Instead of pursuing power, politics should focus on care, responsibility, and resistance to domination.
This view aligns with prefigurative politics—the idea that we should live out the world we want to see in small-scale communities, rather than waiting for some grand future revolution.

4. Why This Matters in Contrast to Gray

Gray is deeply pessimistic about human action, often suggesting that history is cyclical and that political projects inevitably fail.
Critchley accepts the limits of human agency but still argues that small acts of ethical responsibility and solidarity matter.
While Gray leans toward withdrawal or detachment, Critchley argues that engagement at a local, personal level is both meaningful and necessary.

Final Thought

Critchley offers a middle path between Gray’s fatalism and naïve utopianism—a way of acting ethically and politically without illusions but also without giving up on responsibility.

Does this approach resonate with you more than Gray’s quietism? Or do you think Critchley’s small-scale ethics is still too idealistic?

I think Critchley’s small-scale local engagement is similar to Karl Popper’s idea of piecemeal social engineering that you discussed earlier, along with adaptive strategies

Yes, absolutely! Critchley’s small-scale, local engagement shares a deep kinship with Karl Popper’s “piecemeal social engineering” and the adaptive strategies we discussed earlier. All three approaches—Critchley’s ethics, Popper’s philosophy, and adaptive thinking—share the following key ideas:

1. Rejection of Grand Utopianism

Critchley: Rejects large-scale revolutionary projects and state-driven ideologies, advocating instead for local, direct ethical responsibility.
Popper: Criticized utopian social planning as dangerous because it often justifies authoritarianism in the name of an ideal future.
Adaptive Thinking: Acknowledges that large systems are too complex to be fully controlled, so change should be incremental rather than based on rigid, long-term predictions.

2. Bottom-Up Change Over Top-Down Control

Critchley: Ethics and politics begin in small interactions rather than being imposed through laws or grand narratives.
Popper: Advocated for small, testable reforms rather than sweeping ideological revolutions.
Adaptive Strategies: Encourage continuous feedback and local adjustments, rather than imposing rigid, top-down policies.

3. Humility About Knowledge and Unintended Consequences

Critchley: Stresses that we do not control history and must engage politically with humility, focusing on relationships rather than ideological mastery.
Popper: Warned that large-scale social engineering is dangerous precisely because we cannot predict all outcomes, and error correction is crucial.
Adaptive Thinking: Recognizes that trial and error, rather than rigid plans, is the best way to navigate complexity.

4. Ethics and Social Change as Ongoing, Not Finalized

Critchley: Ethics is an ongoing, lived responsibility, not something that can be resolved through a single political victory or revolution.
Popper: Argued that social improvement is a continuous process of experimentation, never a finished project.
Adaptive Strategies: Assume that systems evolve and must be constantly adjusted rather than “solved” once and for all.

Conclusion

Critchley’s small-scale ethics, Popper’s piecemeal social engineering, and adaptive strategies all emerge from a deep skepticism about control, mastery, and long-term prediction. Instead of grand plans, they propose humble, iterative, and localized approaches to ethics and politics.

Would you say this kind of modest, adaptive approach appeals to you more than Gray’s quietism or large-scale political idealism?

Yes because it recognises the limits of rationalism whilst retaining some sense of agency. The key is to define the small-scale ethics and that is where Levinas has so much to say.

That makes a lot of sense. Levinas’ focus on face-to-face responsibility offers a foundation for small-scale ethics that is deeply relational rather than abstract. His idea that ethics is not about universal rules but about responding to the Other in concrete situations aligns well with adaptive, bottom-up approaches to social engagement.

Would you say that Levinas’ ethics, in this sense, provides a way to ground meaning after the loss of grand narratives—something that thinkers like Gray dismiss too easily?

Yes it does provide a way to ground meaning, in the sense of meaning being grounded in the Other

That’s a powerful way to reframe meaning—not as something we impose or discover in isolation, but as something that arises through ethical responsibility to others. It also resists the nihilism that thinkers like Gray lean toward, since meaning is not an illusion but something that emerges in real human encounters.

Do you see this as a purely ethical grounding, or do you think it also has implications for politics, community, or even spirituality?

I dont know about politics, but this ethical grounding provides a new way of looking at community and particularly spirituality

That makes a lot of sense. If meaning is found in ethical responsibility to the Other, then community is no longer just about shared beliefs or traditions—it becomes a space where ethical encounter shapes identity. And spiritually, this could shift the focus away from doctrine or metaphysics toward a lived, relational practice of presence and responsibility.

Do you see this as resonating with any past experiences you’ve had with community or spirituality?

It is so difficult. If we cannot make informed decisions, then we really dont know where these short-term adaptive action will lead. There is a kind of anarchy about that. Are we just floating in a fitness landscape, chasing local minima or local illusions.

Yes, that’s the paradox. If long-term effects are unpredictable, then even small-scale, adaptive actions might be randomly drifting, rather than meaningfully progressing. There’s a deep anarchic quality to this—without a clear goal or stable framework, are we just responding to immediate pressures without real agency?

Your analogy of floating in a fitness landscape is sharp. Evolutionary processes don’t move toward a “best” solution, only local optima—which might be illusions. If ethics and community work the same way, then we’re not really choosing a direction but just adapting to what’s around us.

But here’s a counter-thought:

Even if we can’t predict the future, we can still choose what we value.
Levinas would argue that ethics isn’t about control or progress—it’s about a commitment to the Other, even in uncertainty.
Maybe the “goal” isn’t some final ethical solution but the practice of ongoing attentiveness and responsibility—even if it feels groundless.