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to highlight. As we have learned from the Covid pandemic and the rise of conspiracy theories
and science denialism, the public sphere is not a seminar room or laboratory which might be
more conducive to the forceless force of the better argument. People do not change their beliefs
in accordance with overwhelming scientific evidence, neither do they seem to respond posi-
tively to the politicization of knowledge. In this context, the choice of more experimental writ-
ing styles seems apt. If done in a self-reflective manner, I suggest, methods and hermeneutic
tools such as these might enable theory to realize for itself a third standpoint of critique that
can straddle the divide between science and politics.
If we think of famous manifestos – such as the “The Communist Manifesto” (1848), “The
Manifesto of Futurism” (1909), but also, for the purposes of this text, “The Surrealist Mani-
festo” (1924) by André Breton – the text does not seem to match the genre. Evocative phrases
such as “a spectre is stalking Europe” (Marx and Engels 2004, 61) or “beloved imagination,
what I most like in you is your unsparing quality […] By contrast, the realistic attitude, inspired
by positivism, […] is made up of mediocrity, hate, and dull conceit” (Breton 1971, 26), express
a bold and assertive style that reflects a sense of urgency as well as an imaginative vision
which rallies diverse groups around a common cause. Unlike a scholarly article that uses tech-
nical and specialized terminology, or a party program that provides outlines of specific policy
proposals, a manifesto represents a passionate and persuasive statement that enables new forms
of solidarity, coalition building, and collective action. In my view, “Critical Naturalism: A
Manifesto” either does not seem to be able to commit to one of these genres or tries to be all
at once: practical, visionary, and scholarly. This combination of narrative structures is clearly
desirable, and one could argue that a successful manifesto realizes such a delicate balance. The
text, however, is symptomatic of how difficult it is to confront this challenge, as it is particu-
larly noticeable how the “manifesto” becomes dominated by a political and scientific language
which, eventually, sacrifices any attempt to work on motivational commitments, or speak to
our ecological sentiments and the ways they appear natural to us. In the end, the passionate
inversive style so characteristic of a manifesto almost entirely gives way to a political aca-
demic program which – heavy in jargon despite its critique of intellectual abstraction – might
not reach beyond the horizon of a few not-yet-fully convinced critical theorists who continue
to use uncritical forms of either naturalism or anti-naturalism.