South Korean philosopher Byung-Chul Han has been awarded the Princess of Asturias Award for Communication and Humanities. The jury, clearly impressed by his ability to turn philosophical concepts into Instagram-worthy quotes and irresistible titles for any new book table, has decided to reward a work that, according to experts (or at least those who leaf through it on the train), has changed the way we “think about contemporary society.”
Han, who lives in Germany and is known for books with such seductive titles as The Burnout Society and The Expulsion of the Other, has achieved the unthinkable: he is read by people who normally confuse Heidegger with a piece of Swedish furniture. With a style that mixes aphorism with existential complaint and scathing diagnoses such as “we live in the hell of sameness” (whatever that means), Han has built an entire career on the art of detecting diseases of the Western soul from the comfort of a professorship in Berlin.
Meanwhile, thinkers like Giorgio Agamben—yes, the one who writes as if he still believes that thinking is an activity that requires more than a long tweet—remain relegated to the dusty corners of university libraries. Poor Agamben, with his tedious analyses of biopolitics and the state of exception, cannot understand how someone who writes things like “the neoliberal subject exploits himself and believes he is fulfilling himself” can win international awards, million-dollar publishing contracts, and become the new spiritual guru of the urban creative class.
Perhaps Han’s secret lies in having understood something that real philosophers have not dared to assume: that contemporary success in the humanities is not measured by the depth of thought, but by its potential to become wallpaper with minimalist typography. While Agamben continues to ruminate on dense concepts that barely fit in an encyclopedia, Han throws “digital panopticon” and “toxic positivity” into a sentence and sells it to you in hardcover.
But let’s not be unfair. Perhaps the prize was awarded not so much for what he says, but for what he represents: the transformation of the philosopher into an influencer. It is no longer necessary to understand Being in order to succeed; it is enough to say that it is in crisis. And if it’s in German, all the better.
Congratulations, Master Han. You have equaled Habermas with an award given by a monarchical family from the country of Ortega y Gasset, the same man who once wrote: “Germany has made every mistake possible and some impossible ones,” although I don’t think he anticipated that his most popular philosopher in the 21st century would be one not exactly born on the banks of the Rhine. There you have plenty of material to tire us with in your next book.
