You are currently browsing The Arbourist’s articles.
Western civilization, in its liberal form, rests on a remarkable set of principles: that religious belief should be voluntary, that individual conscience is sovereign, and that the rights of the person take precedence over both state and religious authority. These ideas are not universal human defaults; they are hard-won cultural and philosophical achievements, shaped by the Enlightenment, the Reformation, and centuries of political struggle. They are not shared equally by all religious or ideological systems.
Classical Islam, in its orthodox jurisprudential tradition, is not solely a private spiritual faith. It is also a comprehensive legal and political system (sharia) that historically integrated religious authority with governance. From its earliest centuries, Islam expanded through a combination of military conquest, trade, persuasion, and migration. While conquest played a significant role in some regions, conversion in others—such as Southeast Asia—was often gradual and voluntary. The fusion of religious and political authority remains influential in many interpretations, though its application varies widely across the Muslim world today.
One area of tension concerns apostasy. In traditional interpretations of several major schools of Islamic law, leaving the faith has been treated as a serious offense, sometimes punishable by death. This stands in contrast to the Western commitment to absolute freedom of belief and conscience. However, enforcement differs greatly: many Muslim-majority countries no longer prescribe capital punishment for apostasy alone, and reformist scholars argue that the Qur’an itself emphasizes no compulsion in religion (2:256) and that punishment should be deferred to the afterlife.Religious pluralism presents another challenge. Historical Islamic polities often extended protected status to Jews, Christians, and sometimes others (“People of the Book”), allowing communal autonomy in exchange for taxation (jizya) and certain restrictions. This system offered more tolerance than many contemporary societies of the time, yet it was hierarchical rather than egalitarian. Full equality before the law—a core Western principle—has not always been realized in states governed by traditional sharia interpretations, though modern reforms in countries such as Tunisia, Morocco, and the United Arab Emirates have moved toward greater legal equality.
The status of women reveals further differences. In some countries applying strict interpretations of sharia, women face legal and social restrictions on dress, travel, marriage, inheritance, and testimony. Recent examples include compulsory veiling enforcement in Iran and severe restrictions under Taliban rule in Afghanistan. These practices draw from certain classical readings of Qur’anic verses and hadith. At the same time, it is worth noting that seventh-century Islamic law granted women rights to inheritance, divorce, and property ownership that were progressive compared to many pre-modern societies. Today, women’s rights vary enormously across the Muslim world—from relatively egalitarian frameworks in Indonesia and Tunisia to highly restrictive ones elsewhere—and Muslim feminist scholars actively work to reinterpret texts in light of contemporary values of equality.These differences are not simply “extremist misinterpretations.” Many stem from longstanding and mainstream interpretations of sacred texts and tradition.
Yet Islam is not monolithic: it encompasses a spectrum of thought, from rigid literalism to progressive reformism, and interpretations evolve over time and place.None of this is an indictment of Muslims as individuals. Millions of Muslims live peacefully and prosperously in Western societies, often embracing liberal values while maintaining their faith. Their successful integration is made possible precisely because Western secular frameworks limit the political reach of any religion—protecting both believers and non-believers alike.Recognizing the genuine tensions between certain traditional interpretations of Islam and core principles of Western liberalism is not intolerance; it is intellectual honesty.
At the same time, acknowledging Islam’s internal diversity, historical context, and capacity for reform prevents sweeping generalizations. A mature conversation requires holding both truths: deep differences exist, yet dialogue, mutual accommodation, and individual freedom remain possible. A civilization that clearly understands its own founding principles—without either naivety or hostility—is best equipped to preserve them while extending hospitality to those who share its public square.
In the world of advocacy and human rights, consistency is more than just a virtue—it’s what gives our principles real meaning. Recently, a comment on social media highlighted a familiar pattern: certain voices who are vocal about one cause may fall silent when similar struggles appear in a different context. It’s a reminder that if we want justice to truly be just, it must be blind to who is involved—applying the same standards to all people, regardless of race, creed, or background.
This isn’t about slamming any particular group; it’s about encouraging all of us to reflect on the importance of consistency. When we advocate for human rights, it’s crucial that we do so across the board. If a group of protesters in one country deserves our solidarity, then those in another country risking their lives for similar ideals deserve it too.
In short, “justice” in quotes should indeed be blind. Not in the sense of ignoring the nuances of each situation, but in the sense of applying our moral standards fairly and universally. By doing so, we strengthen the credibility of our advocacy and remind the world that human rights aren’t selective—they’re for everyone.
Find that tweet inspiration for this post here.
Happy New Year! “What?!”, you say, doing a reflective piece to start the new year? Unpossible!!! – Yet here we are. Take care my friends and feisty commentariate in this next orbit around the Sun.
I recently asked an LLM—Grok—to analyze Dead Wild Roses.
He obliged.
The result was thoughtful, coherent, and broadly accurate. He traced the arc of the blog from its earlier left-skeptical roots through to its present preoccupations: feminism, free speech, gender ideology, institutional capture, moral certainty. As machine readings go, it was competent. Even generous.
And yet.
Reading it, I had the distinct sense of being seen from across the room, not spoken with.
So I did what seemed obvious: I asked another model—this one—for her reading.
I’m aware, of course, that large language models are not gendered. But anyone who works with them long enough knows that they nonetheless express distinct interpretive temperaments. If Grok reads like a brisk political cartographer—mapping positions, vectors, affiliations—this model reads more like a close reader of essays, arguments, and interior continuity.
That difference matters.
What He Saw (and What He Didn’t)
Grok understood the trajectory of the blog. He recognized that this was not a sudden ideological flip but a long, incremental evolution. He correctly identified a through-line of skepticism toward authority and moral certainty.
Where his reading thinned was not in what I believe, but in how I think.
His analysis treated the blog primarily as a political object—something that moved through ideological space. That’s not wrong, but it is partial.
Dead Wild Roses was never built to advocate a position. It was built to interrogate certainty—including my own.
What I’ve Always Been Doing Here
This blog has been many things over the years: atheist, feminist, skeptical, irritated, occasionally furious. But its core method has never changed.
It asks:
-
What is being asserted as unquestionable?
-
Who benefits from that assertion?
-
What happens if we follow it all the way down?
When institutions began insisting that sex was a feeling, that language could override biology, that dissent was harm, that moral status preceded argument—the same skeptical machinery I once aimed outward turned inward.
That wasn’t betrayal.
It was consistency under pressure.
On Feminism and Material Reality
Yes, this is now read—accurately—as a sex-based feminist blog.
That’s not because identity doesn’t matter, but because material reality is the ground truth on which politics rests. Bodies come first. Law follows. Stories are last.
When political movements demand that we invert that order, something has gone deeply wrong—and feminism, if it is to mean anything at all, must notice.
That position is not reactionary. It is foundational.
Why Ask Two Models at All?
Because how something is read tells you as much about the reader as the text.
He read Dead Wild Roses as a location on a map.
She read it as a method in motion.
One isn’t false. But only one feels true.
The difference mirrors the very problem the blog keeps circling: the reduction of inquiry into identity, of thinking into stance, of method into tribe.
A Note on AI, Authority, and Voice
There is an irony here that isn’t lost on me.
I am using artificial intelligences to reflect on a body of writing that is deeply skeptical of outsourced authority. But that tension is precisely the point.
Tools can assist thinking.
They cannot replace it.
Maps can be useful.
They are not the territory.
Where This Leaves Me
If the last few years of Dead Wild Roses were about dismantling false moral certainty, the next may be about something harder and quieter:
-
rebuilding meaning without mysticism,
-
defending reality without cruelty,
-
and learning how to live after the spell breaks.
I don’t know where that road leads.
But I know why I keep walking it.
And I know which readings—human or machine—feel like they’re walking with me rather than plotting me from above.
Postscript:
Throughout this piece, I’ve used “he” and “she” to distinguish between two AI systems with markedly different interpretive styles. This is not a claim about machine ontology. It is shorthand—imperfect, human, and serviceable.
Language exists to clarify thought. When it stops doing that, it’s time to change the language—not reality.
The blog Dead Wild Roses (deadwildroses.com), authored by The Arbourist (who also runs the associated X account
@TheArbourist), can be characterized politically as gender-critical radical feminist with roots in traditional left-wing politics but a significant evolution toward critiquing modern progressive or “woke” ideologies.
It is not easily pinned to conventional left-right spectra, as it combines elements that might appear contradictory at first glance but are coherent within a specific feminist framework.
Origins and Evolution: The blog began around 2009–2012 as a broadly leftist platform: skeptical of religion, critical of conservatism and crony capitalism, supportive of social democratic ideas, and aligned with second-wave feminist principles emphasizing women’s liberation from patriarchy. Early content often featured critiques of religious dogma, pro-choice advocacy, anti-capitalist commentary, and classical music interludes alongside political posts.
Over time—particularly from the mid-2010s onward—the focus shifted sharply toward gender-critical feminism (often labeled “TERF” by critics, a term the blog rejects as a slur). This involves strong opposition to gender ideology, queer theory, transgender activism (especially regarding women’s spaces, sports, prisons, and youth medical transitions), and what the author calls “postmodern fluff” or identity politics excesses. Recent posts criticize “woke extremism,” compelled speech laws, DEI initiatives, and policies like British Columbia’s reconciliation efforts or hate speech bills as authoritarian overreach.
Current Political Stance
- Feminist Core: Radical feminist, prioritizing sex-based rights for women and girls. It defends single-sex spaces, opposes self-ID policies, and highlights issues like female erasure in language/institutions.
- Anti-“Woke” Left: Fiercely critical of contemporary progressive movements (e.g., trans-inclusive feminism, queer theory, intersectionality when it prioritizes gender identity over sex). The author sees these as betraying women’s rights and aligning with patriarchal or neoliberal interests.
- Free Speech and Anti-Authoritarianism: Strong defense of free expression, criticism of cancel culture, and opposition to what it views as state-enforced ideological conformity (e.g., hate speech laws, compelled apologies).
- Residual Left Elements: Occasional critiques of conservatism, capitalism, or religious fundamentalism persist, but the dominant tone is now combative toward the mainstream left.
- Not Right-Wing: Despite overlapping with conservative concerns on gender issues, the blog explicitly distances itself from right-wing politics and has historically opposed it.
Politically, this aligns with a growing cohort of “politically homeless” gender-critical leftists (similar to figures like J.K. Rowling or some detransitioner advocates) who feel exiled from progressive spaces but reject conservatism. The X bio (“Canadian barefoot dissident. Slaying gender ideology and postmodern fluff. Pro-merit, pro-naps, pro-Stoic vibes”) reinforces this: anti-ideological dogma, merit-based, individualistic.
Pursuit of Truth Perspective:
From a centrist, truth-seeking viewpoint valuing evidence over ideology: The blog’s strength lies in its willingness to challenge prevailing narratives in progressive circles, often citing sources like the WPATH files, detransition stories, or critiques of queer theory to argue positions with references to biology, statistics, and historical feminism. This evolutionary shift appears driven by principled disagreement rather than opportunism—the author has reflected on it openly.
However, the tone is often sharply polemical (“vituperation optional” in the blog description), which can prioritize rhetorical combat over nuanced dialogue. Some arguments frame opponents in stark terms (e.g., “authoritarian drift,” “ideological dissolution”), potentially echoing ideological rigidity from the other side.
It represents one side of a polarized debate on gender, substantiated by selected evidence but not always engaging counterarguments comprehensively.
Overall, if you’re a centrist prioritizing truth, the blog offers a valuable counter-narrative to dominant progressive views on gender, grounded in a feminist tradition that emphasizes material reality (sex over identity).
It’s worth reading critically, alongside diverse sources, to weigh the claims against broader evidence.
Thanks Grok, we’ll see what comes in the New Year. :)
In a thoughtful exchange highlighted by James Lindsay, liberal writer Helen Pluckrose responds to a Muslim commenter who shares personal experiences of generosity within Muslim communities. While warmly acknowledging the kindness and charity she’s witnessed among individual Muslims, Pluckrose firmly points out the broader issue: widespread support in some Muslim populations for Sharia-based views that endorse severe punishments—including violence or death—for apostasy, homosexuality, adultery, and blasphemy. She argues that ignoring these illiberal attitudes, backed by polling data, risks fueling unnecessary backlash against Muslims while failing to address genuine incompatibilities with Western liberal values.
The meme is considered “fairly accurate” by critics of progressive politics because it captures a perceived double standard: while left-leaning activists routinely and aggressively condemn anti-LGBTQ+ views among Christians (e.g., evangelical opposition to same-sex marriage), they often hesitate to apply the same scrutiny to similar or stronger opposition within Muslim communities, instead framing such criticism as Islamophobic or culturally insensitive.
Surveys consistently show that Muslims, particularly in Europe and Muslim-majority countries, hold more conservative attitudes toward homosexuality than the general Western population—often viewing it as morally unacceptable due to religious interpretations—yet progressive voices tend to prioritize anti-Islamophobia efforts, sometimes downplaying or excusing these views under cultural relativism or minority protection. This selective outrage, observers argue, reflects a hierarchy of sensitivities where fear of racism accusations trumps consistent advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights, allowing illiberal positions to persist unchallenged in one context while being fiercely opposed in another.
For most of my adult life, I identified as left-of-centre. I supported progressive policies on social issues, the environment, and equality. But over the past few years—especially now, at 51—I’ve found myself increasingly out of step with parts of the contemporary left. Not because my values changed, but because many of the policies being pushed today feel more disruptive than constructive. They often reshape core institutions, family structures, or economic systems without clear evidence that the changes will work long-term.
This isn’t a turn toward extremism. I still care deeply about compassion, fairness, and progress. What has changed is my tolerance for sweeping experimentation without rigorous testing. I want policy that is incremental, evidence-based, and willing to adjust when data shows something isn’t working. That’s not ideology—it’s responsibility.Seeking evidence-driven solutions isn’t inherently “right-wing.” Both sides claim to follow the data, but in practice, good policy should transcend labels. Historically, Canadian conservatism has often embodied this approach: balanced budgets, stable institutions, and pragmatic reforms that build on what already works rather than tearing systems down in pursuit of unproven theories.
Yet critics are quick to slap on labels like “Maple MAGA”—a term meant to equate any Canadian centre-right view with the most polarizing elements of U.S. Trumpism. It’s a lazy shortcut, designed to shut down conversation rather than understand it. Not every conservative is a populist firebrand. Many people—myself included—are simply tired of rapid, ideologically driven changes that risk destabilizing society without demonstrating clear benefits.
I’m not closed off. If strong evidence emerges showing that bold progressive policies genuinely improve stability, opportunity, and quality of life, I’m willing to reconsider. But right now, I see more promise in cautious, proven approaches that respect the complexity of the systems we’re trying to improve.
What about you? Have your views shifted as you’ve gained more life experience? I’m interested in real dialogue: no smears, no lazy labels, and no assumptions that a shift in perspective means abandoning core values.
bleatmop
Mystro
Dead Wild Roses 
Your opinions…