SOTT.net is under attack from the French authorities. Ostensibly, they seem to be implying that it's a cover for some sort of doomsday cult. Obviously it isn't - but how do you prove a negative anyway? Instead, SOTT.net's ongoing research into the dangers from incoming cometary fragments, and into the widespread psychopathology of people in power, plus a host of other sensitive topics, is bound to make SOTT unpopular with the Powers That Be. That might be enough to stir the French government into action, and naturally, smear tactics are a cheap and easy way to attack anyone.
I'm not going to say anything more about SOTT.net's character, and the scurrilous nature of the attacks directed against it. That's already been covered here, here, here, here, and here.
this interview where two sociologists quite properly call into question the government's attitude to sectes.)
Terms like these have strongly propagandistic overtones. What we have here is a pathology in French government, whose actions have precious little academic backing in the rest of the world. But what should we expect in such a society which is indoctrinated into thinking that only French academia has all the answers, and the rest of the world is too unsophisticated to understand? However, this superior attitude has only led to French academia becoming isolated from the broader international academic discourse and deteriorating and declining, thereby. In short, France's intellectual isolationism has led to something worse than mediocrity: stagnation and regression.
Massimo Introvigne, a noted Italian social scientist, had this to say on the subject of 'cults' back in 2001:
Since statutory protection against heresy may no longer be invoked, mainline Christians substituted the old label, "heresy", with new ones such as "cults" or "sects" (the latter more used as a derogatory term in languages other than English), implying that the newer religions were harmful to society in general. A whole counter-cult Christian literature flourished, followed much later into the 20th century by a secular anti-cult literature, claiming that the newer religions were harmful to mental health and public order. Social scientists started devoting serious attention to these newer religions in the 1960s and 1970s. They refused to jump on the counter-cult and anti-cult bandwagon, and started looking for a different terminology. British sociologist Eileen Barker popularized the use of "new religious movements", a value-free term much more palatable to scholars than "cults" or "sects". Later, "new religions" was also used in order to designate the largest and most established among the newer religions, most of them tracing their origins in the 19th century, such as the Mormons or the Jehovah's Witnesses. Scholars did welcome these terms, and almost unanimously adopted them in order to avoid the derogatory words "cults" and "sects".That's the way things are usually looked at by academia outside France. Scholars are sensitive to other people's feelings, and naturally try to treat such things dispassionately, in order to achieve at least a modicum of scientific objectivity. Which makes the French attitude so peculiar - so much so that scholars are wondering why on earth the French attitude should be so passionate, derogatory, and, well, unsophisticated. Isn't France supposed to be the most intellectually sophisticated country on God's green earth? Apparently not.
Let's look more closely at the phenomenon of France - the phenomenon of being French.
But there is a caveat, and it's a big caveat: there's a strong feeling that they're a little uncomfortable with things that don't conform to traditional French standards. Obviously, I'm speaking very generally about the essence of French thinking - not pointing a finger at anyone in particular. And obviously there are perhaps, oh I don't know, tens of thousands of French people who don't conform to what might look like stereotyping.
But how useful are national or cultural stereotypes anyway? Unscientific, right?
Perhaps not. What we're dealing with now is what the scholars Paul DiMaggio and Walter Powell of the School of Organization and Management at Yale University called institutional isomorphism: the tendency of different organisations in one geographical area (for example) to become like each other - whether they actually wanted to or not.
Like the Pyrenees, I can't recommend their article "The Iron Cage Revisited" highly enough. Ever wondered why pretty much everything around us in our society is so similar - to the extent that it can become rather boring and so-so? DiMaggio and Powell provide some thought-provoking answers. Here's how their paper begins:
In The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, Max Weber warned that the rationalist spirit ushered in by asceticism had achieved a momentum of its own and that, under capitalism, the rationalist order had become an iron cage in which humanity was, save for the possibility of prophetic revival, imprisoned "perhaps until the last ton of fossilized coal is burnt". In his essay on bureaucracy, Weber returned to this theme, contending that bureaucracy, the rational spirit's organizational manifestation, was so efficient and powerful a means of controlling men and women that, once established, the momentum of bureaucratization was irreversible.(Let's not forget that bureaucratization was more firmly established in France at an earlier date than perhaps anywhere else in Europe. The soulless nature of this bureaucratization was, it's often argued, one of the major causes of the French Revolution. We'll look at the effects of all this later, when we take a wander through the charming formal garden of French history: it's pretty much all dead-straight paths and neatly-trimmed low box hedges, so we shouldn't get lost. And, yes, garden design is important if we want to understand France, and its attitude to form and conformity. Just think for a moment of Le Notre's garden design for the palace at Versailles, the template for all subsequent formal jardins Ã la franÃ§aise, up to the present day. This is France, the land of the straight line.)
Geert Hofstede is also important here. His name is familiar to anyone who has made a study of organisational behaviour, as someone who concentrated on defining general national characteristics - i.e. 'cultural dimensions', as he termed them. Hofstede's study wasn't an attempt to denigrate any particular national culture; instead, it was an attempt to understand cultural differences, so that multinational companies could manage their foreign workforces as effectively as possible, and not cause discontent in their foreign offices by misunderstanding workers' hidden drives and attitudes. It was an attempt, if you like, at diplomacy.