Between Nothingness and Paradise explores the nihilism at the heart of totalitarian ideologies. These 'total critiques of society' either negate the present for an unseen but hoped for future or wish to bring about the end of history in favor of nature (something before good and evil -- a world of clever animals, I suppose). The two approaches are not mutually exclusive and come together in interesting ways in Marx. Common to both systems is the condemnation of everything that exists (human nature, morality, the current existing order) as false, unreal and oppressive, not needing reform but requiring annihilation/destruction in the vain hope for something completely other than what is.

These types of radical negation of the present make even the possibility of goodness impossible -- sense a good life can only be lived in the present. Making the current lives of individuals (their happiness and value) meaningless and require giving-up or forfeiting in order to achieve contentment (content slaves, I guess) that will only come when man is made new.

The book deals not just with intellectual contemplative theory but also with actions that lend support and give rise to totalitarianism. Gerhart Niemeyer says " Totalitarianism would not be possible in practice if it were not for a long period of intellectual erosion preceding the advent of the activist". The average man must accept in-part the views (about reality and ethics etc..) that come to annihilate him. Once our historical past, that which gives our present actions and reality meaning (by being a part of the transcendent/eternal) has been deconstructed -- seen to be totally false and oppressive etc.. there is nothing left to hold society together there is no common ground.

Anyone could profit from reading this book -- even people like myself that no-doubt missed and misunderstood allot can gain much.

In 1941, before Niemeyer turned his full, scholarly attention to discrediting communism, he was looking for a new definition of international law.

He argued that international law needed to be changed because it had become incongruent with the social reality of the time. In the past, the maintenance of order had depended on a commonly shared morality to which all countries felt bound. Conflict among nations was also restrained by the economic interests of companies within each country.

But in the twentieth century, these common bonds disappeared. Niemeyer suggested that law should be based on social, coordinate activities, rather than on the interests of individual nations. It made no sense, he felt, to personify the state. From mutual activities there would arise a kind of spontaneous order. What he called "functional law" would be law without force because it arose naturally from shared activities and common goals, rather than from being imposed externally by legislation, threat, or some other variation of the will to power.

How would law without force work in the real world? I wish Niemeyer had been more specific. Fortunately, Michael Henry's indispensable introduction provides the example of the fire brigade. Regardless of motive or ambition, every person in a fire brigade contributes to putting out the fire. They cannot help but cooperate.

But, Henry asks, suppose the brigade is led by someone who merely wants to burn it all down? Since the 1970s, most deaths have been civilian ones, not on the battlefield but in the middle of modern cities, at the hands of terrorists. Niemeyer assumes that we are usually guided by rational choice, but he ignores the labyrinthine motivations inherent in human behavior, most of which have little to do with reason or intellect. He did not foresee the problems that arise in dealing with the most lethal kamikazes who have no regard for their own lives or the lives of innocents. Rational contract is one thing, mass psychosis another.

As the years passed, Niemeyer rejected the functional approach he had outlined in Law Without Force, but he retained an interest in some of its themes: the need for a foreign policy that was not based on morality or humanitarianism; how the desire for perfection was a denial of reality; how the desire for universal peace led to its opposite and to totalitarian world government; the dangers and limitations of global governing bodies like the U. N. and the World Court; and the sense of man as a social, rather than autonomous, being.

Law Without Force is not very accessible to the common reader. But such a wide philosophical scope is bound to touch on certain issues which are central to the way we live.

Two of the signposts of modernity have been the search for "new" standards and the shift from theories of separateness to connectedness. In 1941, before Niemeyer turned his full, scholarly attention to communism, he was trying to reshape our notion of international law, perhaps into one that would lead to a more peaceful arrangement than the one being shattered by the Second World War.

Niemeyer argued that international law needed to be changed because it had become incongruent with the social reality of the time. In the past, the maintenance of order had relied on a commonly shared morality to which all countries felt bound. Conflict among nations was also restrained by the economic interests of companies within each country. But in the twentieth century, these common bonds disappeared.

Niemeyer suggested that law should be based on social, coordinate activities, rather than on the interests of individual nations. It made no sense to personify the state. From mutual activities there would arise a kind of spontaneous order. What he called "functional law" would be law without force because it arose naturally from shared activities with common goals, rather than from being imposed externally by legislation, threat, or some other variation of the will to power.

How would this work in the real world? I wish Niemeyer had been more specific. Fortunately, Michael Henry's indispensable introduction provides the example of the fire brigade. Regardless of motive or ambition, every person in a fire brigade contributes to putting out the fire. They cannot help but cooperate.

But, Henry asks, suppose the brigade is led by someone who merely wants to burn it all down? Since the 1970s, most international conflicts have been the result of actions by fanatical terrorists or cult leaders whose goals are suicide and destruction. Niemeyer assumes that we are usually guided by rational choice, but he ignores the labyrinthine motivations inherent in human behavior, most of which have little to do with reason or intellect.

In subsequent works, Niemeyer would reject the functional approach, but he would retain some of this book's themes: the need for a foreign policy that was not based on morality or humanitarianism; how the impossible desire for perfection was ultimately a denial of reality; how the desire for universal peace led to its opposite and to a totalitarian world government; the dangers and limitations of global governing bodies like the U. N. and the World Court; and the sense of man as a social, rather than autonomous, being.

Law Without Force is not very accessible to the common reader. But such a wide philosophical scope is bound to touch on certain issues which are central to the way we live.