Can We Save Universalism from the Culture Wars?

I'm going to talk about "woke" and "wokism". And I'm going to do it as a privileged person: on the Wheel of Privilege and Power (if you're unfamiliar with this concept, here you can find more information), I'm quite near the center, or at least in the middle section.

But perhaps the real difficulty in talking about wokeness is that there is no such thing as a singular "woke", because this word has many different, and sometimes opposing, meanings. It's an "umbrella term", as it's often called: a word that covers many concepts and ideas not necessarily related, like an umbrella that covers me, the groceries I've bought, and my backpack.

In particular, "woke" is often used as a catch-all term to identify everything and everyone we don't like. In particular, "woke" is what doesn't fit into an imaginary traditional society that we can approximately locate at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century. A society where men were men, women were women, LGBTQ+ people didn't exist (or accepted their "unnatural" nature), marginalized people didn't complain, et cetera, et cetera.

Given this definition – where 'woke' simply means rejecting an imaginary traditional society of rigid roles and exclusions – I have no choice but to embrace being woke. I unquestionably prefer a society where everyone is as free as possible to find their place while resisting imposed social obligations.

But that's not the only "woke" in town. Next to the social movement that asks for a society where everyone is welcome and demands vigilance against all forms of injustice and discrimination, there is the "woke ideology". And again, while "ideology" is often used as a derogatory term, by "ideology" I mean the philosophical framework of an idea. And here it becomes difficult for me to consider myself "woke". There are of course many other flavors of woke, one of which is particularly disturbing to me: "woke capitalism", where diversity and inclusion are instrumentalized to increase profits without any genuine interest in social change. This is a degeneration that I hope no one will defend.

What follows is a personal reasoning, but it's important to highlight three books that played a role in developing my opinion. Two of them are recent essays that address wokism directly: The Identity Trap by Yascha Mounk and Left Is Not Woke by Susan Neiman. The third one apparently addresses another topic: In Defence of the Enlightenment by Tzvetan Todorov. I also want to cite an issue of Massimo Pigliucci's newsletter about the Enlightenment – which, as you've probably guessed, is central to my argument.

Why the Critique of Universalism Makes Sense

So, what is the ideology of woke, and why do I find it difficult to swallow? In short: because woke ideology rejects universalism. It rejects universalism for a very good reason: when someone who looks similar to me (a Western cisgender man) speaks about universalism, he often means his particular point of view as the only legitimate one to exist and have a place in the public space.

Indeed, universalism has often been a disguised form of particularism. The ideas of universal values and objective truth have frequently been used to silence other experiences, if not worse—to oppress cultures deemed unworthy. Claims to universalism and neutrality can erase the differences between diverse human experiences. As Susan Neiman points out, false universalism "attempts to impose certain cultures on others in the name of an abstract humanity that turns out to reflect just a dominant culture's time, place, and interests".

I think that's true. Universalism can be an instrument of oppression; everything we present as objective truth is entrenched with cultural, social, psychological, and philosophical presumptions. But believing this is not the same as believing that there is no truth, only an infinite series of fully interchangeable viewpoints, or that all human interactions are merely exercises of power between different groups.

The belief that all human interactions are power struggles between groups, and that objective truth is impossible, derives from postmodernism and Michel Foucault's work. These ideas form the foundation of what I call woke ideology. And I think that this view is completely right when it emphasizes how power relations shape what counts as knowledge and truth in any given society, and how dominant groups present their particular perspectives as universal. But this is not the end of the reasoning.

I repeat: the starting point—a critique of universalism—is not only legitimate but also correct. The problem is that I don't think the only thing we can have is a power struggle between groups that cannot truly understand each other due to unbridgeable cultural differences. I think this because I want to believe in the possibility of a human society, but it's not only an idealistic hope.

But Universal Values Do Exist

There are good arguments for the existence of moral values that are not merely expressions of the dominant class's power, but are genuinely universal or at least present across different cultures. Research has identified six core virtues that appear consistently across human societies: courage, justice, humanity, temperance, wisdom, and transcendence. These virtues can be found across philosophical and religious traditions—from Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism in the East, to Greek philosophy in ancient Athens, to the Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Judaism, and Islam). Justice and humanity appear most reliably, present in every tradition; temperance and wisdom are nearly as ubiquitous; while transcendence, though sometimes implicit rather than explicit, infuses each tradition with the notion of a higher meaning or purpose to life.

Of course, these values are interpreted differently, and sometimes de-emphasized or rejected, in different cultures. Universalism doesn't mean pretending that our particular flavor is the only correct one that everyone should swallow and like, but rather recognizing similarities – family resemblances – in what people consider good, just, and fair.

A similar discourse applies to universal truths: we have many "systems of knowledge" and we should give them equal dignity and consideration, not because they are incomparably different, but because they can all offer a perspective on truth (and if they don't, we should critique these systems).

The Enlightenment itself is not "Western exceptionalism". Similar ideas about reason and human dignity popped up in lots of places: Classical Maya, the Gupta Empire in India, Tang Dynasty China, the Islamic Golden Age – and I regret, being educated in Europe, knowing very little about them.

Another hot take of woke ideology, again derived from postmodernism, is the idea that I cannot truly understand other lived experiences. That's true: I don't know what it is to be a transgender woman in India, a rural farmer in Africa, or a neurodivergent student in Texas. I don't even know what it is to be a child in Europe today: I was one, but in quite a different era (no YouTube or Netflix, but VCRs; no social media, but readers' mail in comic magazines). We need to give them the floor, to let them speak, and to hear them because it's important to know their experiences. But the process cannot end there, with the idea that lived experience is unquestionable. Sharing diverse experiences should be the starting point of a process where we, as a society composed of different people, try to construct a shared discourse. Through dialogue, empathy, and critical thinking, we can work toward mutual understanding – not perfect understanding, but sufficient understanding to build solidarity and work together for justice.

Building Universalism Through Diversity

What I'm trying to say is that the woke struggle represents a precious opportunity to upgrade Enlightenment values of autonomy and universalism.

We can, perhaps we should, develop an idea of autonomy that is not constructed around the "free man" of capitalistic society – that abstract individual who exists in a social vacuum, bound only by contracts and market exchanges. Instead, we can recognize that people's identities are shaped by their social and group affiliations, their communities and relationships. This doesn't mean abandoning individual freedom; quite the opposite. It means protecting individuals when their communities are oppressive, while also acknowledging that human beings are not isolated atoms but social creatures who find meaning through connection. As Todorov notes, the European Enlightenment prepared the way for both individual autonomy and democracy together—not autonomy as absolute solitude, but autonomy exercised within the framework of society.

Similarly, we can develop a universalism that is not constructed around a supposedly "neutral" figure who looks worryingly similar to a white adult male. Instead of pretending that one particular perspective is universal, we can build universalism through diversity itself—by genuinely giving voice to other perspectives. This means recognizing that universal values don't descend from above, fully formed; they emerge through dialogue between different experiences and viewpoints.

If instead we choose to reject Enlightenment values entirely, what we have is simply a war between opposed groups without any shared idea of justice. And I'm not sure that those who were historically oppressed could win that war.