Over the last decade, many have warned that current trends are reminiscent of the dystopian future of Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949), George Orwell’s chilling reflection on totalitarianism. His inability to acquiesce to the totalitarian ethic – which proceeds from the belief that the end justifies the means – was shaped by his first-hand experiences of the dangers of political extremism while fighting in the Spanish Civil War, particularly as a result of the intervention of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR). Orwell was in his troubled time – and remains for ours – that most inconvenient of political commentators: a truly singular thinker unable to dismiss his principles and fall in line with his peers. Put differently, he possessed the radical spirit of a philosopher, that rarest of beings.
Ostensibly a political satire, the novel alludes to real-world practices in the communist Soviet Union (such as surveillance, forced confessions, and the primacy of loyalty to the ruling party’s ideology over everything else – even one’s own family), but could apply equally to the horrors of National Socialist Germany or Fascist Italy. Indeed, as Orwell would clarify soon after the publication of the book, his target was totalitarian tendencies in general. Moreover, he feared that “totalitarian ideas have taken root in the minds of intellectuals everywhere…” (Orwell 1998, page 449).
Nineteen Eighty-Four imagines a world in which totalitarianism has won. The novel’s characters live and work in Oceania, a superstate that is perpetually at war with one of the other superstates, Eurasia or Eastasia (though Oceania’s primary enemy can change without warning, explanation, or even acknowledgement that things were ever any different). Our protagonist of sorts, Winston Smith, works in the Records Department at the Ministry of Truth, which, per the twisted nomenclature of the ruling party (simply referred to as ‘the Party’), exists to replace history and truth with Party doctrine.
On the face of it, Winston lacks courage. But he acts despite his fears, and certainly does not lack curiosity. He is not alone in seeing politics as largely a performance designed to distract ordinary citizens from their disenfranchisement. But, unlike others, he cannot retreat into comforting illusions or contorted compartmentalisations. Nor can he find cathartic release through inveighing against the party-approved targets for hatred. In short, Winston sees and feels the crushing truth: the totalitarian system of Oceania is so all-pervading that base reality lies many fathoms beneath an ocean of bullshit.
This insight is both self-evident and inconceivable, so near-absolute is the grip of Party ideology (‘English Socialism’ or ‘Ingsoc’) on the psyche. Winston is certain, though, that it is unwise to share his thoughts. An all-pervading surveillance network records every aspect of daily life; its presence is made known by always-on ‘telescreens’, which serve both as propaganda feeds and monitoring devices. Big Brother is always watching.
Not everyone struggles as deeply as Winston in this bleak world. He observes that some of his colleagues seem to have learned to play the game. It is more precise to call them cunning than clever. Though still enslaved, they have adapted to the pseudo-moral framework that emerges under such regimes. And then there are the useful idiots, exemplified in the novel by the character Parsons, who is cheerfully loyal to the Party. (Spoiler: it is precisely his steadfast loyalty to the state – at work and at home – that results in his downfall.)
O’Brien is perhaps the most insidious of all species of creature in the novel. It is easy to see how he could be mistaken for a great philosopher by the citizens of Oceania. O’Brien both sees and unsees. He has mastered a pernicious way of thinking – which is to say, he has been mastered by it. He is the great personification of doublethink, the living embodiment of the final victory of totalitarianism over philosophy. One imagines Orwell shuddering at the thought of eager students sitting at the feet of such a cretin. “The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake,” O’Brien says to a vulnerable Winston; “We are interested solely in power.”
As if to remind us just how terrible things are, Orwell gives Winston the opportunity to find love. Julia offers the chance to find meaning through genuine human connection. Since the Party forbids all sexual activity not directed at producing children, their clandestine relationship leads to perhaps the most painful event in the novel, and a turning point for the story. Such precious things are lost, Orwell seems to be reminding us, when power is pursued as the final end.
Ultimately, what Orwell captures so well is the feeling of living in a totalitarian world. Life in Oceana is not just meaningless; it is anti-meaningful (Campbell & Nyholm 2015; Metz 2013). Many of us have languored under this feeling over the last few years in particular. Orwell’s novel warns us that totalitarianism can sneak up on us, and that there is no shortage of useful idiots, banal rule-followers, and deluded pseudo-philosophers to promote and sustain it. Winston is a philosopher insofar as he sees what others either cannot or aren’t willing to see. He is not able to make peace with his lot in that cave of illusions. But, like all philosophers, he must wrestle with the same all-too-human weaknesses.
There is no archetypal hero in Nineteen Eighty-Four, no genuine exemplar we can seek to emulate. Perhaps this is Orwell’s point. To Orwell, it is the duty of all philosophers – in journalism, literature, academia, or in factories and fields – to seek the truth. It is the duty of all philosophers to let go of comforting illusions. It is the duty of all philosophers to stand apart – and, if need be, to stand alone – if truth has been so consumed by the tyranny of totalitarianism that precious few can see the real extent of the devastation. It is instructive that Winston finds hope not in the ideologically captured intelligentsia, but in the revolutionary spirit of the common man.
Works Cited
Campbell, S.M. & Nyholm, S. 2015. Anti-meaning and why it matters. Journal of the American Philosophical Association. 1(4), pp. 694-711.
Metz, T. 2013 Meaning in Life: An Analytic Study. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Orwell, G. 1998. Seeing Things as They Are: Selected Journalism and Other Writings. Edited by P. Davidson. London: Penguin.
By Asheel Singh
Dr Asheel Singh is a Senior Lecturer in Philosophy and Coordinator of Postgraduate Studies at the Department of Philosophy at the University of Johannesburg with over a dozen years of experience in the higher education sector. His research interests include ethics, the philosophy of religion, comparative philosophy (Western, African, and Eastern), and theories of life’s meaning.