The Monarchy of Fear: A Philosopher Looks at Our Political Crisis by Martha C. Nussbaum

The Monarchy of Fear: A Philosopher Looks at Our Political Crisis Reviews

• 
  Sharad Pandian

  Let me just say at the start that if you're someone who hasn't read any Martha Nussbaum before, and are looking for some philosophical self-help material in what seems like a dark time, this is probably a pretty good book for you.
  
  Unfortunately I don't quite fit that demographic, and despite loving Nussbaum (or rather, because) this book was a total disappointment for two reasons. The first is that there is no new content at all here, everything is just a copy-paste job of various books she's written before. The second is that while this work is supposed to be a political analysis of sorts, its naivete makes it pretty worthless in this regard because of its total insensitivity to power. I'm just going to expand of these two point below.
  
  
  Criticism #1: Unoriginality
  
  Admittedly the author is open about how she's bringing in ideas from her earlier work, but apart from one of two new examples, every approach, stance, argument, and example has just been lifted.
  
  She starts off with a psychoanalytic approach of infantile fear, which was cool when she first introduced it in
  Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions. She then applies this analysis to fear, to try to indicate how it propels people to irrationally fear certain people and practices, by comparing the burka with more accepted costumes like ski masks, as she did in
  The New Religious Intolerance: Overcoming the Politics of Fear in an Anxious Age. She then talks about anger, using a fascinating reading of Aeschylus' Eumenides with which she starts off
  Anger and Forgiveness: Resentment, Generosity, Justice. From this book she also borrows her close reading of Martin Luther King's iconic "I have a dream" speech to argue for the importance of not giving into hatred, and instead channeling the constructive "transitional anger". Then she quickly summarizes her work on disgust from
  Hiding from Humanity: Disgust, Shame, and the Law, where she points out how bodies are always a problem from us, and how we project disgust onto different groups through imagining or focusing on bodily secretions. She then uses Kate Manne's framework (slightly tweaked and with credit) from
  Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny for understanding misogyny as opposition women face when they move away from male care to independence. She lists the 10 capabilities on her list of minimum human capabilities that people should be entitled to, as in
  Creating Capabilities: The Human Development Approach. She ends with the argument from
  Political Emotions: Why Love Matters for Justice, according to which hope is important, and you should hold onto critical love, come what may.
  
  I mention this in detail, because I think if you're going to phone it in and simply rehash your old ideas, you should state that on the cover of your book, instead of tricking (even if unintentionally) long-time readers into spending time and money working through material they've already seen.
  
  
  Criticism #2: Bad political analysis
  
  But let's for a moment ignore the repetition by accepting the not-terrible excuse that it might still be valuable for a prolific writer like Martha Nussbaum to write a book which summarizes and connects the different work she's produced.
  
  The presence of a lot of disparate ideas does make you think about connections, except this isn't always a good thing here. Although a lot of ideas get thrown at you, in a lot of places it's entirely unclear why. For example, the psychoanalytic bits really are fascinating, but I really don't see what they add to an analysis of political fear that won't be captured by simply stating that "everyone feels fear, and this is deep and ineradicable". And some of the connections seems tenuous at best - for example, even if we were to accept the account of infantile fears, why think this somehow shapes all our adult psyches? There are some suggestive anecdotes and metaphors, but that's it.
  
  But above all, the problem is that as a book that's supposed to show how "A Philosopher Looks at Our Political Crisis", it provides incredibly little insight into anything political. All of her tools certainly make sense in their own domains, but they're not particularly useful for any kind of serious political analysis. I suspect that if anyone was asked about what exactly they learned after they reading this book, they would come up empty. This is because what Nussbaum is desperately defending is a stance or method of freely and respectfully exchanging ideas, without letting the more primitive and overbearing parts of us taking over. What she wants to defend then is Socratic philosophy:
  
  

  [Philosophy] is about leading the “examined life,” with humility about how little we really understand, with a commitment to arguments that are rigorous, reciprocal, and sincere, and with a willingness to listen to others as equal participants and to respond to what they offer. Philosophy in this Socratic conception does not compel, or threaten, or mock. It doesn’t make bare assertions, but, instead, sets up a structure of thought in which a conclusion follows from premises the listener is free to dispute.

  
  Very nice and poetic, but this seems like a great example of the kind of philosophy that Raymond Geuss denounces in
  Philosophy and Real Politics, which is the kind of philosophy that tries to focus on some autonomous domain of ethics antecedent to, or at least independent from, political thought. The problem with this approach is that it becomes woefully blind to power and cares only about how people speak to and about each other.
  
  For example, she rightly criticizes Donald Trump for this rhetoric about immigrants, Muslims, and non-white people. But then she turns around and praises George Bush for always being careful about pointing out that it wasn't all Muslims or Islam itself that America was warring with, saying "for me, this is how a responsible leader reacts in the face of widespread popular fear". Which is nice, except for the slightly inconvenient fact that hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afgans died in wars that the responsible leader started. Of course, she isn't praising this aspect, but it is still jarring because it reveals a myopia to power and its effects in the real world.
  
  It's also simply unclear why we should think that the norm of disinterested Socratic debate is that approach best suited to achieve political goals. While she obviously wants to both have deliberation and justice, it isn't Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech I kept hearing while reading her, but rather the "Letter From a Birmingham Jail" on the white moderate:
  
  

  Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.”

  
  She might object to this, because she continuously insists on how injustices like racism are deeply wicked, but insisting on certain norms of action and exchange, which limit what you can do and feel, might plausibly slow down change. Simply mentioning the handful of successful non-violent leaders like Mandela and Gandhi isn't enough to make the case she needs.
  
  This is particularly seen when she argues that both sides, the left and right, need to stop feeling angry if it's a kind of anger that's vindictive. Ok, this might not be terrible advise, but trying to parse the anger of the deeply disenfranchised and telling them they need to feel "transitional anger", which doesn't want payback but only constructive solutions, comes off like weirdly policing the oppressed since she doesn't offer any criticism of the deeply exploitative classes which everywhere wield material and political power. Plus, she also seems insufficiently tuned into the complexities of the reactions of oppressed people. She appears to take as axiomatic that well-being cannot consist in social put-downs of others, but it seems to me that when a racist is called out and punished, it might legitimately be helpful to the community's sense of justice. She might still insist that these actions, even if right, should be cleansed of certain vindictive intentions, but at that point she just seems to not have anything actually relevant to offer.
  
  (I'll admit, the tools she uses here actually were successful in her analysis of the Indian religious-Right in
  The Clash Within: Democracy, Religious Violence, and India's Future, but that was because in that case she actually did analyze the practices, beliefs, and the complex sociocultural and historical contexts in which it gained power. Without that kind of specific context here, her analysis just comes off as wispy liberal moralizing.)
  
  She obviously has good intentions here too, but since its not even clear if her purified anger would be more politically efficacious, this all just looks like a privileged white woman randomly defending bankers against overly-vicious leftist attacks. She even offers a bizarre reading of the musical Hamilton, which she ends by saying:
  
  

  It’s a jolt, but a salutary one, to see young people cheering for the banker, and we should applaud Miranda for, among other things, undercutting the politics of envy by his surprising choice of a hero

  
  since Alexander Hamilton was involved in setting up the central banks. Maybe she's just trying to be even-handed by criticizing the left and the right, but this urging for norms of civility needs to be argued for contextually and with an eye for actual consequences, not just assumed as axiomatic. Do bankers, with their hoarded wealth and power, really need another defender? And even if it isn't really about bankers but the health of the body politic, by lecturing about norms while ignoring all entrenched power, her "analysis" seems at best inappropriate, and at worst deeply pernicious. If all you have to offer is 272 pages of "don't treat the rich man badly, also racism is bad", maybe you shouldn't write that book.
  
  In the end, stripped of any analysis of power, all she really offers people in this moment is a kind of "emotional sustenance" that is meant to keep them from despair and keep them hopeful about the possibility of change they can bring about. Which is something, but not much.
  
  If this review seems rather negative, it's because I don't think I want to praise points which aren't new, and since this is a pretty useless book for actual political analysis, it's safe to say that you should read it only if its brand of navel-gazing obsession with your own emotions is what you want. Otherwise go read some other actually serious book, even one of Nussbaum's earlier books like the excellent
  The Fragility of Goodness: Luck and Ethics in Greek Tragedy and Philosophy, where she stays in her lane and doesn't claim to offer political analysis when she clearly isn't providing any.
• 
  Charles Haywood

  I was going to write a very long, and very scathing, review of this book. In fact, I did write much of it. But then I realized it was a pointless exercise, like shooting fish in a barrel, and nobody is listening. Suffice it to say that this book is a joke, a preaching to the leftist choir, in which the ends are decided on and laughable reasoning inserted to justify those ends. One can sum up the whole book in three words: Orange Man Bad!
• 
  Radiantflux

  83rd book for 2018.
  
  Full of seemingly superficial platitudes that fails, despite it's title, to engage in the current political crisis.
  
  2-stars.
• 
  Zack

  Martha C. Nussbaum is one of the great contemporary philosophers and this book an interesting application of her thoughts around emotion in relation to the recent political environment in the United States. Nussbaum analyses how a few primal emotions are having dramatic impact on the way society is developing and how this is influencing the way people vote. As you can probably tell from the title one of these emotions is fear; but Nussbaum also includes anger, envy, and hope. Each chapter starts off defining and contextualizing the emotion (or social construct) and then provides an analysis of how this is being demonstrated in society, what the impacts may be, and also some recommendations on how to address the challenges or harness the benefits of the emotion. If you've never read anything by Nussbaum before, or if you're interested in political/social philosophy, this is a fantastic book.
• 
  Alejo López Ortiz

  «Diríamos que la democracia seguramente conlleva cierta dosis de miedo y que el miedo puede ser una guía útil en muchas áreas de la vida democrática, siempre y cuando los datos y hechos en los que ese miedo se base sean correctos. El temor al terrorismo, el temor a unas autopistas y unos puentes inseguros, el temor a la pérdida de la libertad misma: todas esas formas de miedo pueden impulsarnos a tomar medidas protectoras útiles. Pero, cuando su objeto es el futuro mismo del proyecto democrático en sí, toda aproximación medrosa será probablemente peligrosa y conducirá a que los ciudadanos ansíen algún tipo de control autocrático o la protección de alguien que controle los resultados por ellos.»

  
  
  Martha Nussbaum (mi filosofa favorita), escribió este libro tras las elecciones de 2016 que dejaron como Presidente de Estados Unidos a Donald J. Trump. Probablemente muchas cosas han cambiado desde entonces e incluso Trump salió de la Casa Blanca. No obstante, las democracias liberales de Occidente viven su momento más álgido y su crisis política más profunda. No cabe duda que muchas personas alrededor del planeta nos preguntamos incluso si antes de morir, veremos caer en pedazos el régimen político en el que nacimos.
  
  El mundo actual, la locura de estos gobiernos populistas, el mundo post pandemia y esta crisis del capitalismo y en general del liberalismo, debe conducirnos al origen del conocimiento para encontrar respuestas. Y creo, personalmente, que es la filosofía el lugar de donde emana ese conocimiento. Y como la misma Nussbaum menciona, la filosofía lejos de entregar dictámenes de autoridad, es el camino para dibujar una vida examinada. Creo que ahí debe estar la manera individual en que cada uno halle respuestas y encuentre sus propias soluciones para estos convulsionados momentos históricos que vivimos.
  
• 
  Steve

  Nussbaum is obviously a great thinker, but this book seemed an unfocused mishmash to me. I didn’t like the way she combined analytic psychiatric ideas with philosophy. There were definitely provocative and interesting ideas in there but I didn’t think the book as a whole was well done.
• 
  Marks54

  When I heard that Martha Nussbaum had published a new book on “our political crisis” - politics around and after Trump’s election - I had to read it, even though I suspected that there would be few pat answers or clear solutions to the issues that she raised. Nussbaum is a wide-ranging philosopher at the University of Chicago. She is know for a huge body of work among which are wonderful studies of classical political theory, virtue, human development, and the role of emotions in politics. It is impossible to neatly summarize all that she has done. It is, however, unfailingly thoughtful, readable, and insightful.
  
  One of the more vexing aspects of the 2016 election is that while it cries out for careful and critical thinking, the American political scene on display in the election does not seem to be amenable to the careful thinking one has come to expect from someone like Professor Nussbaum. Phrases involving “rationality” or “reason” have not been critical parts of the explanations put on the market since the election. It often seemed more like the occasion for an anthropological expedition.
  
  This is whether Professor Nussbaum enters. The book is a follow-up to her recent 2016 book on anger and forgiveness. Like the earlier book, this is an effort to subject the political emotions running rampant to some careful scrutiny - not to nullify the role of emotions but to clarify what they are and where they have come from. In any attempt to change policies or behaviors, careful understanding will still be needed, even in the midst of political emotions driving voters.
  
  Without giving away much - the book is worth reading - the story line starts with fear, and a discussion of all the different reasons for fear in 2016. She makes some good comparisons to FDRs invocation of “the only thing we have to fear is fear, itself” at the start of his presidency. Then she discusses a series of related emotions - anger, disgust, envy, and related issues like sexism, misogyny, and antisemitism. The key to her argument is that it is the interaction of political fear with these other emotions that created such intensely negative dynamics and consequences in the context of the 2016 election.
  
  In determining what to do, Nussbaum brings in hope and love and tries to offer some constructive suggestions for moving forward. There are no simple solutions. Simplifying emotions and hatred will prevail until people interact with those with whom they disagree and find out that they are human too and worthy of concern and respect. This is not a matter of arguing (or yelling) one’s way out of political disagreements but instead treating people with whom there are disagreements as worthy of the respect that one expects as a matter of course. The problems spurring troubling political emotions are real and persistent. Politics will not get better until enough people become convinced that better political life if worth the time and effort needed for improvements to happen.
  
  Nussbaum brings in history in her account to show how despite current conflicts, there have been difficult political environments in the US before and that things may not be as bad as social media suggest. The world may not be on the brink of destruction. Perhaps things might improve with a little bit more constructive effort.
  
  Nussbaum’s books are always thoughtful and this one is no exception. It is a quick read and well worth the effort.
• 
  Genni

  This book is a mixed bag. There are a lot of great comments, especially on the psychology of fear, and fascinating examples from history. Her remarks on the relationship between fear and anger, and the correct use of anger (i.e. righteous anger) are absolutely on point.
  
  However, she draws heavily from her previous works, making this more of an “Intro to Martha Nussbaum” than anything else. It’s a very disjointed reading experience. She also hails from the left, but seems to want to appeal to people of all political stripes, from words of praise for Bush to the chapters on sexism. The work is far too short to do this well, with too many contemporary examples, where feelings are too fresh, that will put off one side or another. It isn’t that she should not have tried, but it simply needed to be longer, I suppose, with room for more nuance, in order to even get close to achieving all of these goals.
  
  In short, there are some gems here and the work is brief enough that it is worth the perusal.
• 
  Dan Graser

  As I work my way through the collected works of Martha Nussbaum I am always impressed by her ability to turn out works of great erudition and examination at such an incredible pace. This book, however, is not quite what it purports to be. Though likely a great introduction to many of Nussbaum's concepts for those unfamiliar with her work, frequent readers and admirers will likely have heard much of this before, and be disappointed that politics is never really examined or connected to the perspicacious dealings with emotions that form the start of the book.
  
  The insidious nature of fear and its manifestations in our evermore hostile arenas of discourse is a subject which nearly everyone of every political stripe acknowledges, though none seem too keen on any work in solving this problem. Thus, much of the material with which Nussbaum opens this work is a quick and lucid outline that shows the many different types of fear, the connection between fear and forms of anger, and how prejudice and bigotry have roots in very primal notions of disgust. This complicated web of emotions is delivered with great clarity though as many have noted, these analyses of hers have already appeared in several earlier works.
  
  The main issue with this book is that there is very little political analysis at all. The connection (if there is one) between the emotional examination described above and the actual workings of our political systems is never made, at least here. As a result the discussion of hope at the end of the work sounds like deliberate naiveté and the single policy suggestion she gives in the span of less than a page at the end of the book seems whimsical and deliberately unsupported, even though I happen to agree with it.
  
  While there is much to enjoy in this book, it really feels like it could have been a final chapter/section in her previous, and brilliant, work, "Anger and Forgiveness," as it uses many of the same examples (from Ghandi, Mandela, and King), puts forth very few genuinely new ideas regarding the human side of this issue, and never actually attempts to generate or even adumbrate political discussion/examination.
• 
  Rachel

  I always welcomed the opportunity to introduce my students to great ideas and great thinkers. The works of Martha Nussbaum have always been sterling examples of both. I was anticipating (as a child anticipates Christmas) her latest work since learning of the working title, Monarchy of Fear: A Philosopher Looks at Our Political Crisis, a few months ago. I believed it would both salve and inspire. Unfortunately, it does neither. It would be simply a disappointment if that is all it fails to do, but she does something in this text and in her promoting of the book (I have watched her discussing the book on PBS Newhour and on BookTV) that she has never done before—she attacks her students who fervently oppose T***p and his agenda with the same vigor that she addresses T***p advocates.
  
  Nussbaum claims both sides are motivated by unwarranted and irrational fears. Not so. The current political crisis is not the result of the entire country panicking. One side, not both sides, is subject to: “Amorphous fear generated in a climate of ignorance and fed by imprecise and alarmist rhetoric, [which] is the enemy of any sane dialogue about our future” (59). She writes about fear: “The horrible darkness of early fear is always beneath the surface, easily awakened into nightmare by any destabilizing new development” (35). It is clear what the “destabilizing new development” is—T***p. He and his enablers are playing to the most atavistic and foul fears of his constituency: race, religion, sexual and gender anxiety, status, and terror of the future.
  
  Nussbaum fails to make the connection to one side of the political divide while observing that: “Our culture of fleeting celebrity and social media narcissism contributes to an envy culture. We need, instead, a culture of virtue and a conception of citizenship focused on virtue in the Hamilton sense: a high-minded yet realistic search for political solutions that unite” (161). My only explanation for Nussbaum not making the obvious connection is that she does not want to offend the side that this observation most readily describes. Just think of the past two administrations: Objectively, which one would you describe as being engaged in a “high-minded yet realistic search for political solutions that unite” and which one embraces a cult of celebrity, narcissism, and envy? Honestly, which one?
  
  If the answer is not clear enough consider this: “I call it the internal Furies that inhabit us all and that are not securely linked to real justice. The infants’ idea looks like a version of lex talionis: an eye for an eye, pain for pain. It is likely that this crude idea of proportional payback has an evolutionary origin. It is a leap to call this an idea of justice, and I think we should not make this leap” (71). I think we have all become too familiar with this infantile code of justice coming from our president and his enablers.
  
  Keeping in mind that most T***p supporters are affluent and secure, consider the following excerpt: “Lucretius was probably right to think that the fear of death ‘suffuses’ our lives with ‘the blackness of death,’ even if there is plenty of light and happiness around” (44).
  
  Of course, Trumpism did not happen overnight. Let’s remember that evangelicals supported him overwhelmingly (+80%). Which makes the following assertion pertinent to our political crisis: “Emotions can destabilize a community and fragment it, or they can produce better cooperation and more energetic striving toward justice. Emotions are not hardwired from birth, but are shaped in countless ways by social contexts and norms” (12).
  
  Nussbaum claims that: “Hope is the opposite of fear” (211). But is it? Actually (here I will use one of Nussbaum’s own citations): The Greeks and Romans said that hope was the “flip side of fear”. Both involve evaluating an outcome as very important, both involve great uncertainty about the outcome, and both involve a good measure of passivity or lack of control. They therefore did not like hope, pleasant though they granted it was: hope betrays a mind too dependent on fortune. ‘You will cease to fear, if you cease to hope,’ writes Seneca. ‘Both belong to a soul that is hanging in suspense, to a soul that is made anxious by concern with the future’" (Moral Epistles, 5.7-80) (204).
  
  I found Nussbaum’s assertion that “hope is the opposite of fear” peculiar in light of Seneca’s elucidation of the concept. When I think of the concept of “flip side” I think of two sides of the same coin—not opposites. And, it seems Seneca is of the same opinion. Interestingly, I recently read John Fea’s Believe Me: The Evangelical Road to Trump (review coming soon) and he has an entire section asserting the same concept—that hope is the opposite of fear. Neither author mentioned the other in their texts. Hope is a fine thing as long as it doesn’t inhibit action.
  
  Nussbaum concludes with some words of wisdom and caution from Cicero. Cicero “records in his letters his profound upset and grief about what he sees happening to the Roman Republic. The life of detachment is ‘easier and safer.’ All the same, Cicero says, such people are guilty of what might be called ‘passive injustice’: the injustice that consists in not energetically enough pursuing justice, even when that is very difficult. They also lack in generosity and greatness of spirit” (244).
  
  The problem is Nussbaum is calling on the victims of the political crisis to refrain from vigorously opposing policies and actions that have already taken health care away from over a million people, denied citizens their civil rights, traumatized children, exacerbated racial prejudice and religious animosities, undermined our democratic institutions and values, increased wealth and income inequality, promoted unequal educational opportunities, abrogated indigenous people’s right to their land, opened public lands to exploitation, undermined US relations with our historic allies, abetted foreign interference in our democracy, . . . etc. Again, the problem is not that those who are desperately trying to save lives, end suffering and humiliation, and preserve our democracy are not civil enough—the problem is that too many are, as Cicero writes of his fellow citizens, guilty of passive injustice. Nussbaum’s book simply fails to inspire action or comfort those discomforted by the current political crisis.
  
  For inspiration and direction please review Nussbaum’s Capabilities Approach to justice on pages 236-9 (or Google it!).
• 
  Bohemian Bluestocking

  Her main idea is that fear and insecurity undercuts democracy. She doesn't want to dismantle the Master's House or do away with the status quo, but rather her recommendation is that we keep in check our tendencies toward fear-blame, envy that is entitled and doesn't wish well, and disgust of bodies/the urge to transcend our mortal, animal nature. She wants to tweak what is already present in terms of government and leadership and institutions, not make some huge overhaul. . . except for some occasional mandates to generally "make people better human beings."
  
  What I found troubling was her rhetoric, saying repeatedly that X philosopher or Y writer was "wrong." Typically, it is more generous to explain why something is problematic or lacking. She also has her own utopian/authoritarian bent by suggesting a mandated 3 years for all young persons in civil service and has an affection for German democratic socialism. These do seem quite lovely, and I myself might have been for such left-leanings up until quite recently (say 2020-2021), but something doesn't sit quite right with me in her parental tone about mandates and prioritizing "the common good" over individual freedom. Her belief is that we need to be kinder people, but overall, her perspective is that nothing is really wrong with America or the American government: for example, in contrasting the U.S. with Israel and India, she says, "If my own corner of America is still healthy (not without issues, but basically), that counts for something" (199).
  
  I like that this is quite accessible to the public; it is not overly intellectually challenging, and I don't think it was intended to be. It does date itself by focusing on the prejudiced rhetoric of Trump, and so, while the general message is universal enough, it doesn't feel timeless the way philosophy, even as it all is embedded within its own historical moment, should and often does to me. The content and writing style feels a bit like a speech or something one would find in a well-researched blog with interesting references. There were quite a few statements to underline on each page with some gems in various paragraphs. I think the least compelling chapter for me was the one on Sexism and Misogyny, but perhaps that is because my Ph.D. is based in Women's Studies and I've read a great deal of feminist theology; it just fell a bit flat for me.
  
  Her final emphasis on faith, hope, and love (unfortunately, a bit unfairly but also understandably perhaps to a degree, discounting and disparaging Stoicism) makes sense and is something I myself have recently chosen.
  
  I think overall, I felt her book was a bit too general and political for me. It is possible, as I know how well-loved and esteemed she is, that this was simply not the best choice for me. She is quite prolific and perhaps I need to do some research to see if her other books are more challenging, nuanced, and timeless. I'm open to suggestions.
• 
  Brendan Shea

  Nussbaum is one of the relatively few bona fide philosophers (i.e., not popularizers of philosophy, but people who actually make contributions to the field) I feel safe recommending to non-experts. A few thoughts:
  
  1. While the book was, by Nussbaum's own account, inspired by the election of Trump (and it includes a number of Trumpian examples), it's not really *about* Trump. Instead, it's an analysis of the emotion of fear, and the negative effects that this emotion can have in democratic societies. Nussbaum clearly believes that fear plays a role in right-wing populism (and in particular in the way it reacts to immigrants, women, etc.), but she doesn't think it's negative effects are limited to conservatives (and the book begins with the idea that liberals' fearful response to Trump voters may be part of the problem).
  2. With some notable exceptions, Nussbaum's examples are generally *not* drawn from contemporary politics, but instead from a variety of areas in which she has particular expertise: classical Greece/Rome, the history of psychoanalysis, the early American Republic (especially as depicted in Hamilton, the musical), and even her own life. The book is well-written, but the examples are unapologetically those of an elite academic trained in the liberal arts. I found this to a refreshing change from the narrow focus of many "political" books, though I also suspect this might turn off some readers. (And I think the reaction of these readers is part of the problem that Nussbaum is concerned about.)
  3. I generally agree with Nussbaum's analysis here (though I'm probably just as prone to political fear as anyone else), and I actually think she provides a pretty convincing argument for her view. That being said, there are plenty of things in here which don't fit well with the way many/most politically engaged people on the left (and the right) want to approach political conflict (and, in fact, on Nussbaum's analysis, indulging the sort of fear/rage that makes up a lot of contemporary political discourse is morally questionable). While reading this book, I often had the thought "Wow, there are some people who are really going to hate this analysis (and who frankly are going to dismiss it out of hand since it doesn't use their preferred language/conceptual framework)."
  4. Nussbaum's positive proposals near the end--required service for young people, a refocusing of life-long education on liberal arts, an expanded role for poetry in our personal lives--seem promising (if politically untenable, at least right now).
• 
  Ann Straight

  Philosophy as related to beliefs and values definitely influences what political party we side with. This. book is not so much about that. It is about fear leading to the demonization of the other side in our society. The author picks apart fear into various pieces. In the end she leads us to alternate approaches to politics not using fear but hope to promote action.
  
  Unfortunately, she also dumped me, the reader back into Trump's "style", a style which failed to lead me to the deal to benefit all. It lead me to the table to an axe to destroy table. I don't want to live within that anger anymore. I agree with her thinking about Trump, but it is too close in time to the trauma of his abuse. I am trying to heal.
  
  3 star minus a few tenths due to my own state of mind
• 
  Fraser Kinnear

  I got ~2/3 through this and gave up. I'm not sure what idea to draw here, aside from a reminder that much of our political motivations come from a position of fear and insecurity, and that overcoming these feelings through compassion could result in more political compromise.
  
  The "Monarchy" idea is due to fear being a very selfish emotion.
  
  There is some cool detail on Aeschylus's Eumenides, and an explanation for how the furies changed role at the conclusion of the play are an apt metaphor for how society harnesses our emotions to drive legislation. The other examples (MLK, etc) were less intersting.
• 
  Paul Womack

  A fine view on the resistance necessary to push back at fear’s aim to dominate and control and manipulate the self as an engaged public citizen. She relates fear to disgust, envy, and anger, and offers a balanced view of hope as that emotion which, if practiced, can free the heart and mind to persevere in the pursuit of the just and the good.
• 
  Fdiism

  "اندیشیدن دشوار است اما ترس و مذمت آسان"
  4.5🌟
  کتاب پر مغزی بود. تو شرایط مناسبی خوندمش.
  بحث کتاب درباره ترسه و به خوبی احساساتی که ازش ناشی میشه رو توضیح میده.
  قسمت جذاب برای من کاربرد همین ترس و احساساتی مثل خشم، حسد، سرزنش، انزجار تو فصل ملغمه ای مسموم : جنسیت زدگی و زن ستیزی بود.
  ----
  3 دی 1401
• 
  Yanni Ratajczyk

  Een Nederlandse recensie verschijnt in Tijdschrift voor Filosofie.
• 
  Brent

  Good book for our era of fear-based politics. My favorite part was the last chapter on Hope, Love, and Vision.
• 
  Michaela

  I'm glad I read this book because it motivated me to add some of the authors Nussbaum references to my reading list. It is short and very readable for a philosophy book. It also treats complex topics somewhat cursorily. For example, Nussbaum borrows Kate Mannes's definition of sexism and misogyny but does not address the topic in the depth or with the originality that Manne does. Instead, Nussbaum uses this as one of many lenses to focus on the dangers of primitive feelings of retributive envy and some (to my mind questionable) solutions to foster love instead, including religion, poetry, and three years of forced "national service" for youth. She also recommends (but does not dwell on) the more common and, to my mind, more direct solution to envy: greater equality. Nussbaum concludes that we can approach the current political situation with hope, as actionless cynics, or as checked-out stoics. She advocates for hope, and it is perhaps the cynic in me that wonders how the powerful would maneuver a national service requirement to benefit/exempt their own children. I also think this book suffers from both-sides-ism. Nussbaum rejects all perspectives she considers retributive, including those of Malcolm X (who I will add to my reading list along with Nussbaum's suggested positive models of King, Gandhi, and Mandela).
• 
  Javier

  Ogros, brujas, monstruos. ¿Qué sería de una historia infantil sin un antagonista temible al que los protagonistas se enfrentan? Sin embargo, los niños no son los únicos que escuchan cuentos que asustan. El relato del miedo ha sido utilizado una y otra vez desde posiciones de poder con el objetivo de infundir deliberadamente pánico en la población. Y a diferencia de lo que ocurre en los cuentos infantiles, en nuestra realidad no siempre ganan los buenos. Una persona asustada suele ser más manejable y tarde o temprano termina acudiendo al abrazo del líder autoritario que se presenta ante las masas como protector. En La monarquía del miedo, la académica estadounidense Martha Nussbaum realiza un análisis filosófico y psicológico del miedo, una emoción que, tal como argumenta la autora, está muy vinculada —ya desde nuestra infancia— con el "deseo monárquico" de querer controlar a los demás.
  
  Si te apetece conocer mi opinión con más detalles, te invito a leer la versión completa del comentario y también a compartir conmigo tus impresiones sobre el libro:
  https://caminoentrelaniebla.wordpress...
  
  Javier - Camino entre la niebla
• 
  Madimadi

  The majority of the book is dedicated to explaining the philosophical backdrop of human emotions in relation to politics throughout history. While her analysis of this topic is fascinating, I often felt a generational divide - especially in her conclusions. Ultimately, her (very) brief "solution" for our political crisis felt extremely removed from reality.
  
  Also, my god, do not listen to the audiobook. It's a total slog, and does not do her writing justice at all. (3/5)
• 
  Jane Marga

  My topic about gender issues in class brought me into this book. Upon introspection, its purpose goes beyond that as it goes directly into the approach we must make when dealing with social issues in the present-day.
  
  The main argument of the author in this book is that (American) society in the present is a monarchy ruled by fear, which led to anger, disgust, and envy; thus, key issues such as gender inequality, migration, civil rights, and racial discrimination, healthcare, political and religious violence, to name some, led to the "othering" of individuals -- a great divide of "we" to "them".
  
  It didn't give a list of political policies to follow and implement; rather, it envisages the role emotions play in how we deal with things politically. It's reflective and recursive, as it historically widens the perspective of learning from the philosophers and orators of ancient Greece and Rome.
  
  I met some complications with the roles the big ideas such as love and hope could play in rectifying some of our impulses since the result is always a collective effort. But it's a good start to identify the root cause of one of our malaise in the social sphere.
• 
  Michael

  The problems with this book can be summed up in the following passage that comes in the final chapter where Nussbaum lays out "solutions" to the monarchy of fear that she argues lies at the heart of our current political crisis: "When people come together to sing or dance, or act a play together, or even to sing along with the CD of Hamilton together, as so many kids do" ... Now, I am the first to admit that my perceptions of what kids these days do together is limited to osmosis from proximity to my son, but I don't know that many kids who are either listening to CDs (where does one purchase CDs except in the five dollar bins at Wal Mart?) or conducting sing-a-longs to Hamilton. Singing along to a playlist that includes oldies such as Gin and Juice? intermixed with newer material from Cardi B? yeah. Maybe. In a bar. But the Hamilton soundtrack?
  
  And this is the problem at the heart of Nussbaum's book. As any reader would expect of her, the philosophical examination of fear, disgust and envy, when she focuses on the psychological, philosophical and classical literature, is clearly articulated and insightful. I enjoyed her readings of Lucretius and Cicero, and the book could have used much more of her assessment and critique of Stoicism, its forebears and its children, particularly Kant.
  
  Instead, the book felt self-indulgent, the perspective of a woman who grew up in wealth, achieved much through a native intelligence and a family who supported her talents and has lived an adult life insulated by professional academic achievements. Her descriptions of disgust and envy, because they most reflected upon contemporary examples, were also the weakest chapters as they revealed her privileged perspective and personal neuroses.
  
  In the end, though, the book fails to capture or provide any insight into our political crises beyond an interesting outline for a capabilities approach to justice. However, these final solutions are overshadowed by the earlier assertions that the problem with conservative voters and supporters of conservatism is that they are riven with fear, envy and disgust for women, homosexuals and black and brown bodies. This thesis seems patronizing at best and is never substantiated in any real way. And beyond the brief gesture toward a theory of justice, Nussbaum's solutions really do include the assertion that we can get out of this morass of fear, envy, disgust and sexism by going to the theater or popping in a CD for a sing-along of a rousing Broadway musical. These latter solutions are nothing more than the admission of an elite, out of touch and unable to provide solutions to the very real economic, social and political problems of our time. With spokespeople like Nussbaum on the left, is it any wonder that Tucker and Fox are winning?
• 
  Scott Lee

  I read this pretty quickly. Dr. Nussbaum clearly makes a case for the evils of fear, and its effects on multiple other emotions, and their potential for damage to our relationships and the totality of the body politic that I found both cogent and plausible. I also felt a bit of a so what? Upon finishing the book.
  
  The text isn't just platitudes; I disagree with that common response among those giving negative reviews here, but its truths seem far more descriptive than prescriptive or analytical. However, it does tend toward the inactive stereotype of philosophical work in that its analysis focuses primarily on definition and description. I feel like I have a deeper understanding of why and how fear is bad, I'm even convinced that its impact is perhaps greater and more widespread than I thought. But I picked up the book because I was already convinced that fear was acting as a toxin that is poisoning our government/politics.
  
  I guess I was hoping for a more actively involved text. There are a few specific examples from our current "Political Crisis," but the examples are more often pulled from ancient Rome and Greece or even from literature, which makes it all feel very distanced from the debates one sees raging in the public sphere. I agree with her that retributive anger is less-productive, but I'd have liked to see quite a bit more about how formulation of "transition-anger" is more than an airy ideal and can be effectively rediscovered and used. It kind of sounds like we should all hope another Dr. King, Gandhi, or Mandela comes along so we can follow them.
  
  I found a number of things here interesting, and all of the writing itself and Nussbaum's formulations were at least new to me because I'd never read anything she's written before, and most of them I found intelligent and insightful. That said, the parts that spoke to me most spoke to me personally as I thought about small behaviors in my personal life that are wholly or partially motivated by fear and how I might go about trying to change them. So the best parts of the book for me involved thinking about long term self-improvement on a very personal scale. This feels a bit like weak tea in the context of the titular political crisis--which if not changed will have had some really awful consequences for a lot of people long before enough of us make the kind of small personal changes that I felt prompted toward after reading to reach a critical mass that changes society. That's fine as a self-help text, as a personal solution, but it's disappointing as a way of addressing larger, societal problems.
• 
  R.C.

  Another reviewer said that this would be a great book if you had never read any of Nussbaum's work before and wanted a post-2016 pick-me-up. As I am exactly that sort of reader, I found this to be a very good, but not great, book.
  
  Overall, this is very much a philosophy book about fear, us-vs-them, and all their attendant emotions written clearly and well for a lay audience. Even though my philosophical reading background is thin, I got what she was saying, and it made sense. Like much philosophy, it was in places eye-opening to realize that yes, of course I think I knew that, but wow, no one had ever dragged it into the light and SAID it like that. That was most of what I wanted out of this book, and what I most enjoyed.
  
  The author's slant is very apologetically anti-Trump, both in her own personal views that she shares and in the hot-button topics that she covers. One thing that keeps the book somewhat immune from current events is how the author uses many ancient history examples rather than current. Her reasoning is that by using examples that are not so fresh and raw, she'll avoid some of the knee-jerk responses in the reader. I think that this works ok, though really, this book is probably preaching to the choir in the first place. Also, in illustrating her points, she uses racist, sexist, homophobic, etc. examples that are quite obviously meant to point these qualities out in the current Administration, but her philosophical treatment can be used as a mirror for any person, in any situation where they find themselves afraid, disgusted, envious, hateful, or angry. The left doesn't completely escape criticism in this book--which only seems fair, as neither side is made up of saints--though they get much less of the splatter than the right.
  
  I did get the sense that (as other readers have noted) this book might contain a lot of retread ideas for this author. She footnotes her other works extensively, and this book seems to mostly be a reframing of her more generalized work to a specific topic. Still, for a reader new to her, and one looking for a reminder of why we humans do this thing that we're doing, this is a good primer.
• 
  Ailith Twinning

  What to say - that when your denunciation of hate and fear accommodates the likes of Goldwater and Bush, you clearly have some work left to do? That individualistic ethics as political stances are inherently daft as they ignore the core reality of politics as an interpersonal sphere with impersonal actors? That supporting 'disadvantaged groups' rhetorically, and overtly refusing to address the actual systems of oppression is hypocritical bullshit? That "the politics of envy" is a lazy misdirection from the actual moral concern "Can the existence of a billionaire be both justified and good?" That this is a hell of a lot of privileged, elite and elitist bullshit that almost makes we want to pull out the word bourgeois? That this is just self-indulgent masturbation? That the words you're looking for in your own context, Nussbaum, are horror and dread?
  
  Frankly, what I really want to say here are all non-verbal expressions - drag my hand down my face, sigh, look up, roll my eyes, and throw the book in the bin.
  
  You construct your castles in the air about the inherent fear that sticks with people from being a helpless, tyrannical, infant. The rest of us have work to do.
  
  
• 
  Mehrsa

  I can't decide if Nussbaum is too naively optimistic or if she's right. I might go with the former in this book. I loved her book Anger and Resentment. This one seemed more like a pep talk peppered with some ancient Greek history. Don't let anger and jealousy ruin the political discourse. Fine. But, she at times equates anger at the 1% with anger at immigrants. To me, those seem like different drives altogether. One rooted in disgust (which she covers at length in this book) and the other motivated by well, something else, which she doesn't fully explore here.
• 
  Greg

  In this interesting book, Ms. Nussbaum considers the most primitive of our emotions – fear and notes its many poisonous byproducts.
  
  She notes that it is an emotion – a reactive instinct, really – that we share with all other life forms. Its source is found in the amygdala, a part of the brain that we share with all vertebrates, and which triggers our survival instincts – fight or flight – when we experience fear. “Fear,” she says, “goes straight back to the reptilian brain.”
  
  The reason why right-wing politicians – and outright demagogues like Trump – always seek to incite and stoke fear is because of the effect it has. Nusbaum writes, “Fear is not just primitive, it is also asocial. When we feel compassion, we are turned outward; we think of what is happening to others and what is causing it.” It is “intensely narcissistic,” driving out all thoughts of others. It causes us to shrink inwards, becoming more defensive and suspicious of others. Therefore, she calls fear “the emotion of a monarch, who cares about nothing and nobody else.”
  
  We are born with the capacity to fear and it is, indeed, probably the first emotion a newborn experiences. Infants are aware that they are truly helpless, unable to care for themselves. They can only wail when they are hungry, thirsty, wet, or upset. Yet, most of us surmount those early fears (although, she points out, we can never banish the emotion for it is central to our survival instincts). How does this happen?
  
  She cites the work of psychologist Donald Winnicott who “invented a concept for what children need, if concern for others is to grow and flourish. He called these conditions the ‘facilitating environment.’” The family, he wrote, “must have a core of basic loving stability…. It must be free from sadism and child abuse…. The facilitating environment has economic and social preconditions as well: there must be basic freedom from violence and chaos, from fears of ethnic persecution and terror; there must be enough to eat and basic health care.”
  
  If a family lacks these things, children are likely to be emotionally stinted by fear, something that will haunt them all their lives.
  
  It is also true that nations need a “facilitating environment” in which their citizens can feel safe, empowered, and optimistic. This is the kind of atmosphere that allows for cooperation, trust, and mutually aided accomplishments.
  
  But when societies, just like failed families, are wracked by economic worries, fractured families, lost careers, and ruined hopes, the result is an environment in which all the positive things that allow a society to flourish are undermined by fear, doubt, and anger.
  
  So, What Can Be Done?
  
  We have arrived at our current sorry state of civic and political life as a result of policies intentionally chosen that have dramatically tilted the playing field towards the uppermost 1%. This, coupled with the politics of deceit and evasion made necessary by these policies, has seriously weakened the economic and psychological standing of millions of our fellow citizens and has, as a predictable byproduct, produced a climate of anxiety, fear, resentment, and outrage.
  
  If we are to blunt this downward spiral we must revert to the kind of policies and politics of the decades that followed World War II, a period of diminished wealth disparity and widespread prosperity.
  
  Nussbaum, consistent with her vision that the “flip-side” of fear is love, says that it is only when most people have adequate access to the necessities of life – and these include FDR’s call for a “second bill of rights” that embraces the goal of a democratic economy as well as what she calls the capabilities necessary if we are to flourish (and to flourish is the idea behind what Thomas Jefferson called the right to the pursuit of happiness).
  
  She recalls FDR’s assertion that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” and links this with FDR’s vision of a society in which all have the right to a well-paying job, to a decent home, to adequate health care and, as far as possible, to be free from the fears that accompany old age, sickness, accident and unemployment.
  
  She concurs, for those conditions reduce the likelihood of fear, allowing instead for the more inclusive atmosphere of love, respect, tolerance, and cooperation.
  
  Yes, the road is certainly an uphill one, certain to be blocked at every point by those who have everything to lose from changing the way things now work but, Nussbaum reminds us, we nonetheless must have hope. Hope, she reminds us, has this in common with fear: significant powerlessness. In fear, such powerlessness leads to despair, withdrawal, resentment, and anger, all of which shrink us. But if, even though we lack the power by ourselves to change anything, we choose hope, then that directs our gaze outwards in a search for allies, for possibilities, for a livable future.
  
  She cites Immanuel Kant’s observation that hope was a “practical postulate,” that is, an attitude that we take on without proof that a better outcome will occur because hope can enable a greater likelihood of a better outcome. Fear and despair enable nothing.
  There is wisdom here: I am not “in control,” but together we can act to bring about change.
  
  Time to get started!