The Perils of Inward Gaze

From Romantic Solipsism to Societal Fracture

“I feel we as a society have turned inward on ourselves. Whilst Pope put it “The Proper Study of Mankind is man” to which I subscribe, when that study becomes to all intents and purposes not mankind, but ourselves I find myself rebelling. Socrates’ dictum about “an unexamined life is not worth living” has been filtered through psychology to almost a compulsory solipsistic world where we are only interested in the inner workings of ourselves. Everything is about our own personal feelings”.

These words, written to a friend when trying to explain why I didn’t feel guilty after having had a few too many drinks, capture the essence of my growing dismay with the trajectory of Western thought. I think that this inward turn in the Western hemisphere is not a benign evolution but a corrosive force eroding the foundations of our shared reality. It began with the Romantic movement in art, literature, and philosophy, a rebellion against the Enlightenment’s rational gaze outward toward the world and our fellow man. What started as a poetic celebration of emotion and individuality has metastasised into a cultural pathology where personal desires reign supreme, facts bow to feelings, and division thrives in the vacuum of common understanding.

Let us begin at the historical pivot: the shift from Enlightenment rationalism to Romantic individualism. The Enlightenment, that glorious era of the 18th century, championed reason, science, and empirical observation as the keys to understanding the universe and improving society. Thinkers like Hobbes, Hume, Locke, and Kant urged us to look outward, to study nature, dissect human institutions, and build a world based on universal truths discoverable through logic and evidence. Man was seen as part of a grand, interconnected whole, where progress stemmed from collective inquiry and shared knowledge.

Then came the Romantics, storming in like a tempest in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, as a direct backlash to this “disillusionment with the Enlightenment values of reason and order,” as the art historian Kathryn Galitz put it. Emerging amid the chaos of the Industrial Revolution and the French Revolution’s bloody aftermath, Romanticism exalted the individual imagination, intuition, and emotion over cold rationality. Artists like Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Byron; philosophers such as Rousseau; they all pivoted the lens inward. Rousseau’s Confessions, for instance, laid bare the author’s personal emotions and desires, prioritising subjective experience over objective analysis. In art, Caspar David Friedrich’s Wanderer above the Sea of Fog depicts a solitary figure gazing into the sublime vastness, symbolising the triumph of personal awe over communal understanding. Romanticism emphasised the individual, the subjective, the irrational, the imaginative, the personal, the spontaneous, the emotional, rejecting social conventions in favour of a moral outlook rooted in individualism.

This was no mere aesthetic shift; it was a philosophical earthquake. Where the Enlightenment sought universal laws applicable to all mankind, Romanticism celebrated the unique, the passionate, and the intuitive, often at the expense of reason. It reacted against the rationality and restraint of Classicism, embracing emotion, individualism, and the sublime. In literature, this meant heroes driven by inner turmoil rather than societal duty; in philosophy, it elevated feeling as a path to truth, with figures like Hegel influencing a dialectical view that privileged subjective synthesis. What began as a liberating cry for personal freedom sowed the seeds of solipsism: the notion that one’s own mind and desires are the only sure reality.

Fast forward to our present day, and this inward turn has bred a profound incomprehension of others and their perspectives, fortifying divisions that threaten to tear society asunder. When desires become paramount, empathy atrophies. We no longer seek to understand our fellow man through shared facts or common experiences; instead, we filter the world through the prism of “my truth.” Social media echo chambers amplify this, where algorithms feed us content that mirrors our feelings, insulating us from dissenting views. The result? Polarisation on steroids. Consider political discourse: debates over climate change, gender, or economics devolve into emotional standoffs, where “lived experience” trumps empirical data. If your feelings validate your position, why bother grasping mine? This drives incomprehension of others, strengthening division by eroding the bridges of rational dialogue.

Worse still, when facts are regarded as secondary to opinions and feelings, the entire edifice of Western rational and Enlightenment thinking collapses. The scientific method, hypothesis, experiment, verification, relies on objective truth, replicable across cultures and individuals. Yet in our Romantic-descended culture, feelings often override facts. “Alternative facts” enter the lexicon, and conspiracy theories flourish because they feel right to the believer. This isn’t harmless; it’s societal suicide. Without a commitment to verifiable reality, we descend into chaos, where policy is dictated by whim rather than evidence, and progress grinds to a halt.

Enter the insidious growth of attempts to downplay the scientific method through “decolonisation of the curriculum.” This movement, ostensibly aimed at critiquing Western knowledge hegemony, often veers into anti-rational territory. Proponents argue for integrating indigenous knowledges and stripping away “Eurocentric” biases from education, which sounds noble on the surface. But in practice, it can condemn future generations to ignorance by relativising science itself. For instance, some decolonial approaches in science education question the universality of the scientific method, viewing it as a colonial imposition rather than a tool for discovery.

In geology, efforts to “decolonise the curriculum” involve challenging Western epistemologies, potentially diluting rigorous methodologies with subjective narratives. A UK study on science teaching staff revealed the dangers, with some fearing it undermines core scientific principles. By prioritising “diverse ways of knowing” over empirical validation, we risk equating myth with method, dooming students to a fragmented worldview where chaos reigns. This isn’t empowerment; it’s intellectual sabotage, ensuring no stable basis for societal flourishing.

Relativism in all things exacerbates this peril. Cultural relativism posits that moral values and knowledge are bound to specific cultural frameworks, with no universal superiority. While this fosters empathy in theory, encouraging us to appreciate differences, it often leads to moral paralysis and indifference in practice. If truth is relative, why strive for consensus? Moral relativism explains societal behaviours by suggesting right and wrong depend on cultural influences, eroding any common ground. As James Rachel notes, it creates a “seductive yet disturbing” theory where universal moral truth evaporates. In society, this manifests as fragmented communities: if no shared ethics or facts exist, understanding falters, and division deepens. Anti-relativists argue that faultless disagreement contradicts our innate sense of objective dispute. Without common ground, mankind flounders, unable to build lasting institutions or resolve conflicts.

This Romantic legacy, amplified by postmodern relativism and therapeutic culture, has us trapped in a hall of mirrors, gazing endlessly at our reflections. Psychology’s emphasis on self-examination, twisting Plato’s call for wisdom into mandatory introspection, fuels this solipsism. We’re told to “find ourselves,” but in doing so, we lose sight of others. Everything becomes about personal feelings: therapy sessions, self-help books, identity politics, all prioritise the inner world over the outer.

Enough is enough. We must make a positive call to reject this introspection and intellectual navel-gazing. Let us reclaim the Enlightenment’s outward gaze! Study mankind, not just the self. Engage with the world through reason and evidence. Teach curricula that uphold the scientific method as a universal tool, integrating diverse perspectives without diluting truth. Embrace debate grounded in facts, not feelings. Build bridges by seeking common ground, rejecting relativism’s nihilism. As Pope intended, let the proper study of mankind be man, in all our shared humanity. Turn outward, rebel against the inward tyranny, and watch society flourish anew.

In rejecting this solipsistic trend, we honour our forebears who built civilisation on rational foundations. The Romantics gave us beauty, but at what cost? It’s time to balance emotion with reason, individualism with community. Only then can we mend divisions, foster understanding, and secure a future free from ignorance and chaos. Let us act now, before the inward gaze blinds us all.