Materialist philosophers maintain that form and content are bound inseparably in their interaction. Notably, the development or decline of anything, say, a society, begins with the transformation of content, which is more dynamic than form. As they accumulate, transformations in content bring about changes in form. Apparently, this principle of dialectical materialism has failed in Ukraine, since we are currently witnessing sweeping social transformations that leave the old Soviet content almost intact. Put simply, again and again we pour sour wine into squeaky-clean goblets and only change decorations on the theatrical stage that is our life. Among other things, just like under Catherine II we continue to build our own Potemkin villages meant as a window-dressing for the na Х ve West. Consider a few examples.
In a recent motion, lawmakers adopted a law cum declaration behind whose brightly colored faНade the contemporary Chichikovs [a reference to Gogol’s trafficker in dead souls. — Ed.] can do whatever they want. Small wonder, since, under one of the fundamental laws of the science of management, it is impossible to manage complex social systems using simple laws, simple algorithms, binary logic, and generalized concepts. (“The complexity of the system of management must fully reflect the complexity of the object it manages.”)
Or take, for example, the Ukrainian churches that presently pride themselves on the multitude of their parishes, church buildings, seminaries, clerics, and bishops. On the face of it, it would appear to be a revival of Christian spirituality. But make no mistake. For all of this is but the form and faНade (in the Byzantine style), which obscure the prevalence of ceremonialism over genuine spirituality, numerous medieval prejudices perpetuated and hallowed by the church, cutthroat competition for places on the hierarchical ladder, unwillingness or inability to face the realities of the moment, intrigues, and most unchristian enmity among Christians. Modern church life sometimes reminds me of a precious gold-plated icon depicting a dark silhouette instead of the likeness of a saint. Genuine faith and daily piety have been relegated to the background, since they require too much effort and inner content.
Contemporary Kyiv embodies the formula and form of brilliance and poverty. Just imagine one of the new glittering marble underpasses next to the shabby, soiled stairwells of apartment blocks somewhere in Obolon or even in downtown Kyiv, the stairwells that make you feel like an outcast in a shantytown. Apparently, for the authorities these are but minor details that cannot be seen from the street and thus deserve little attention. Meanwhile, people have to put up with this yet another vestige of Soviet content.
Cities have seen a proliferation of supermarkets of late. With their assortment, brilliance, and showiness, they eat up funds and substantially affect prices. It appears, however, that they find it impossible or, rather, notcompulsory to make sure such staples as milk, bread, or vegetables are fresh. And another minor thing: for decades shop assistants have been tirelessly cutting bread loafs in half, which is unsanitary, for one thing. Meanwhile, bread plants have still not considered giving up Soviet standards (when bread accounted for the major part of the dietary intake of most people) and baking smaller loaves, which would also solve the problem of freshness.
The love of form and indifference to content are also discernible in the realm of education and science, with its countless universities, institutes, and even academies, most of which are considered such only by virtue of their names and offer so-called consolatory diplomas. Suffice it to recall the extensive list of courses taught at some of the newly-created institutions of higher education, which promise you a career anywhere between a bartender and diplomat. However, society, educators, and students obviously welcome this proliferation of educational institutions, so long as they churn out diplomas, even if meaningless. The root cause of this problem is not so much the entrepreneurial spirit of their founders as the fact that the genuine and not formal diplomas are all too often unclaimed by society. However, not only diplomas, but also jobs, duties, and requirements for the results of work are often just as consolatory. There is no such thing as consolatory institutes or diplomas in Japan.
The overwhelming love of form and sciolism has not spared our political beau monde either. Recall how many lawmakers are academicians or at least — professors. And what is even more amazing, these people are so self-effacing that they never show off their erudition in public, neither when addressing Verkhovna Rada, nor during interviews. On the other hand, some representatives of the Ukrainian political and intellectual elite try to conceal their erudition as best they can and sometimes even display their grotesque ignorance to this end. And how painstakingly they conceal their intelligence! On second thought, what does a person need intelligence and knowledge for, when he possesses all of the attributes of an attractive form, that is, a diploma, degree, and high post.
According to Plato, there will be order in a state only when it is headed by a philosopher who loves knowledge. Obviously, he said this thinking that only a philosopher can arrange in order all forms and contents of social life. He also said, however, that “in a society of fools (with consolatory diplomas and degrees. — Auth.) a wise philosopher is also considered a fool.” Put plainly, there is no way he can become a ruler.
