Growing up in a fundamentalist-ish environment, I used to think that only Christians worried about the way music influences people and I thought their only concern was in regard to songs with swear words.
Hi Monte, thanks for the write-up. I think you're exactly right that musical lyrics create realms of plausibility in our minds, but I'm wrestling with whether that is a bad thing. I think there are definitely songs of very little substance -- themes good or bad -- and that substance-less music which glorifies sin is worse than unhelpful, if casually received. But there are also many many songs of substance which also glorify sin. I think that is part of their substance (by substance I mean worth my time; worth contemplation). The main song I have in mind is Bukowski by Modest Mouse. The bridge from this song:
If God controls the land and disease,
Keeps a watchful eye on me,
If he's really so damn mighty,
My problem is I can't see,
Well who would want to be?
Who would want to be such a control freak?
The song compares God to Charles Bukowski -- Brock's point is that you can't separate the art from the artist, in the case of Bukowski who glorified misogyny and alcohism, and in the case of God who allows pain and suffering. I obviously don't agree with the artist's perspective, and I don't listen to the song very often because I'm aware of how it can shape my thinking, but I do cherish it, even aside from the musical composition. This song reminds me of a path I could have taken, and it reminds me that there are many people outside of my own narrow experience who have taken this path. I have a heart for those people; I'm sympathetic towards their outspoken atheism and I think I feel in some very small way God's own love for them, even in their explicit, active rebellion. My sympathy is proving your point on plausibility structures, but it has in parallel expanded on my narrow human experience. This plausibility structure makes me (even in a small way) a better witness towards this kind of person because I kind of get it.
I wouldn't want a non-Christian or a struggling, isolated Christian to listen to Bukowski. (I also wouldn't want to control their behavior or censor their art, but these are separate concerns). I think the danger of a plausibility structure stems from (a) obliviousness and (b) a lack of maturity, and this is why children are probably most vulnerable.
I also think restricting ourselves from music (and by extension, art: stories, books, movies) outside of our own values will produce men and women of narrow experience; people who are afraid of what they don't agree with / don't like / don't understand.
I hope I haven't extrapolated your essay to some point you weren't trying to make. I am wondering if you agree, or if you think the song Bukowski hasn't served me like I think it has?
I think we are approaching this from two slightly different angles.
I think we can grow in understanding others (which is a good thing!) without developing subconscious plausibility structures. This is true when a song has an explicit message (like the one you reference) versus a song where the message is more assumed.
You write, “This song reminds me of a path I could have taken, and it reminds me that there are many people outside of my own narrow experience who have taken this path. I have a heart for those people; I'm sympathetic towards their outspoken atheism and I think I feel in some very small way God's own love for them, even in their explicit, active rebellion.” I can 100% relate to this. There is music I still enjoy because it reminds me of who I was or who I could have become, and I am thankful that I am not that person; it also makes me sympathetic to those in that plight. But I don’t know if I connected with it because it built subconscious plausibility structures or because it simply spoke to me where I was at. Or because it put into words various feelings I had that I was struggling to find language for. Does that distinction make sense?
I agree with you we can’t be obvious to influences and that a mature person is probably going to be able to listen to different things than an immature person. I also agree that being exposed to different ways of thinking can be healthy in that it helps us understand people where they are.
For example, I read very broadly. But I read people like Marx and Nietzsche, ‘writers of substance that glorify sin’ very differently than someone like Rousseau (a man that claims to be Christian, but has a lot of subtle unchristian assumptions) or Locke (someone is much more solid than Rousseau, but has his faults) and I read all of these guys differently than someone like C. S. Lewis that I believe is very solid. On the one hand I can read someone like Nietzsche and not be shaken in a way that I might have been when I was younger, but I also can recognize when something I am listening to or watching affects me in a negative way (i.e. in some sense I am more cautious and sensitive than when I was young, so for me it has actually cut different ways for different reasons).
In some our engagement with art and ideas, it is like alcohol use. A mature person can use alcohol well—e.g. recognize when they are becoming dependent or in danger of becoming drunk and change course, but the misuse of alcohol inhibits the growth of maturity! In the same way, a mature person cannot be influenced by art or ideas in the same way as an immature person, but if a person is immature they’ll be formed by those things without recognizing it and thereby unable to engage with them productively.
With my kids, we do look at writers and works of art that are anti-Christian, but we do it purposefully and thoughtfully. We’ll listen to a song and discuss the lyrics or we’ll read Marx (we homeschool) and talk through him. I think this can be healthy, but I would not have my boys listen to Tate or Bronze Age Pervert or those types of guys on their own (or probably at all…)
Sorry, I fear that I am rambling a bit. Ultimately, if that song has helped you grow and better understand others and be thankful to God that He saved you from what you could have become, that is awesome!
Hi Monte, thanks for the write-up. I think you're exactly right that musical lyrics create realms of plausibility in our minds, but I'm wrestling with whether that is a bad thing. I think there are definitely songs of very little substance -- themes good or bad -- and that substance-less music which glorifies sin is worse than unhelpful, if casually received. But there are also many many songs of substance which also glorify sin. I think that is part of their substance (by substance I mean worth my time; worth contemplation). The main song I have in mind is Bukowski by Modest Mouse. The bridge from this song:
If God controls the land and disease,
Keeps a watchful eye on me,
If he's really so damn mighty,
My problem is I can't see,
Well who would want to be?
Who would want to be such a control freak?
The song compares God to Charles Bukowski -- Brock's point is that you can't separate the art from the artist, in the case of Bukowski who glorified misogyny and alcohism, and in the case of God who allows pain and suffering. I obviously don't agree with the artist's perspective, and I don't listen to the song very often because I'm aware of how it can shape my thinking, but I do cherish it, even aside from the musical composition. This song reminds me of a path I could have taken, and it reminds me that there are many people outside of my own narrow experience who have taken this path. I have a heart for those people; I'm sympathetic towards their outspoken atheism and I think I feel in some very small way God's own love for them, even in their explicit, active rebellion. My sympathy is proving your point on plausibility structures, but it has in parallel expanded on my narrow human experience. This plausibility structure makes me (even in a small way) a better witness towards this kind of person because I kind of get it.
I wouldn't want a non-Christian or a struggling, isolated Christian to listen to Bukowski. (I also wouldn't want to control their behavior or censor their art, but these are separate concerns). I think the danger of a plausibility structure stems from (a) obliviousness and (b) a lack of maturity, and this is why children are probably most vulnerable.
I also think restricting ourselves from music (and by extension, art: stories, books, movies) outside of our own values will produce men and women of narrow experience; people who are afraid of what they don't agree with / don't like / don't understand.
I hope I haven't extrapolated your essay to some point you weren't trying to make. I am wondering if you agree, or if you think the song Bukowski hasn't served me like I think it has?
Kaleb, thank you for this thoughtful reply!
I think we are approaching this from two slightly different angles.
I think we can grow in understanding others (which is a good thing!) without developing subconscious plausibility structures. This is true when a song has an explicit message (like the one you reference) versus a song where the message is more assumed.
You write, “This song reminds me of a path I could have taken, and it reminds me that there are many people outside of my own narrow experience who have taken this path. I have a heart for those people; I'm sympathetic towards their outspoken atheism and I think I feel in some very small way God's own love for them, even in their explicit, active rebellion.” I can 100% relate to this. There is music I still enjoy because it reminds me of who I was or who I could have become, and I am thankful that I am not that person; it also makes me sympathetic to those in that plight. But I don’t know if I connected with it because it built subconscious plausibility structures or because it simply spoke to me where I was at. Or because it put into words various feelings I had that I was struggling to find language for. Does that distinction make sense?
I agree with you we can’t be obvious to influences and that a mature person is probably going to be able to listen to different things than an immature person. I also agree that being exposed to different ways of thinking can be healthy in that it helps us understand people where they are.
For example, I read very broadly. But I read people like Marx and Nietzsche, ‘writers of substance that glorify sin’ very differently than someone like Rousseau (a man that claims to be Christian, but has a lot of subtle unchristian assumptions) or Locke (someone is much more solid than Rousseau, but has his faults) and I read all of these guys differently than someone like C. S. Lewis that I believe is very solid. On the one hand I can read someone like Nietzsche and not be shaken in a way that I might have been when I was younger, but I also can recognize when something I am listening to or watching affects me in a negative way (i.e. in some sense I am more cautious and sensitive than when I was young, so for me it has actually cut different ways for different reasons).
In some our engagement with art and ideas, it is like alcohol use. A mature person can use alcohol well—e.g. recognize when they are becoming dependent or in danger of becoming drunk and change course, but the misuse of alcohol inhibits the growth of maturity! In the same way, a mature person cannot be influenced by art or ideas in the same way as an immature person, but if a person is immature they’ll be formed by those things without recognizing it and thereby unable to engage with them productively.
With my kids, we do look at writers and works of art that are anti-Christian, but we do it purposefully and thoughtfully. We’ll listen to a song and discuss the lyrics or we’ll read Marx (we homeschool) and talk through him. I think this can be healthy, but I would not have my boys listen to Tate or Bronze Age Pervert or those types of guys on their own (or probably at all…)
Sorry, I fear that I am rambling a bit. Ultimately, if that song has helped you grow and better understand others and be thankful to God that He saved you from what you could have become, that is awesome!