Fascinated by the metaphysics of the city, 20th century Italian artist Giorgio de Chirico produced jarring urban scenes bereft of people and normal human bustle. He meant to trigger contemplation; he didn’t actually hate people. The tiny minds who run our governments, control our public health agencies and staff our hospital system seem to have taken de Chirico’s metaphorical presentations as an operating blueprint, for in David Solway’s view they have delivered a globe-girdling art installation using the world’s cities as their canvas. From soaring commercial vacancy rates and boarded-up businesses in hundreds of the world’s second-tier cities to the moonscape that Manhattan has largely become, Solway denounces the incalculable damage wrought not by SARS-CoV-2 itself – but the government response to it.

It is almost inarguable that the once-rich and strong tapestry of family life has become seriously frayed, worn and patchy. Divorce is rampant – if marriage occurs at all – and dads have fallen into serious disrepute. Most would agree that it is children who suffer the most as a result. But why did all this happen, and where did it begin? Taking a wide view that ranges from Dostoevsky via Nietzsche to Kate Millett, David Solway traces the crisis centuries back to its spiritual roots as a rebellion against fatherhood – and lays the blame squarely at the feet of modern-day ideologues who seem intent on kicking fatherhood into oblivion.

When the New York Times admonishes the unmistakeably satirical Babylon Bee for spreading “misinformation”, it’s likely a sign that humour is dying – or being killed off. Similarly when the formerly-fearless Bill Maher laments how it’s no longer safe to tell a joke at a party lest one be overheard by a Woke listener and ruined. And even more so when politicians threaten to ban internet memes that lampoon the elites. The eminently serious David Solway reminds us of the essential contribution of humour and laughter to the well-balanced and healthy life – of individual and culture – and points to the civilizational wreckage were levity stamped out. And before it’s too late, suggests we all head out for some subversive “gynecandrical” dancing.

The rise of the educated middle class over the past 250 years is one of the great triumphs of Western civilization. But just as the middle class became ascendant, the intellectual left began figuring out how to tear it back down, an impulse that has since spread to virtually every privileged element in society. The elite’s war on the middle’s prosperity, social mobility and freedom has been accelerating. Where might it take us? Author David Solway is not alone in thinking it won’t end until we are reduced to a new serfdom that, though partially masked by the peons’ access to 21st century gadgetry and other technology, will be very similar in social structure and oppressiveness to the Middle Ages.

Most of us probably regard the word “narrative” either as an creaky cliché thrown around mostly by posers or, if we unwittingly fall into the latter group, as a handy instant signal that we’re culturally au courant (to use another aging cliché). There’s far more to the concept of narrative – unfortunately. Would that it were harmless trivia. Instead it has shown not only indestructible staying power but a viral cunning, mutating and replicating and insinuating itself into every cultural nook and cranny. And that’s profoundly dangerous, writes David Solway, who provides the intellectual heavy lifting in this thorough analysis of the concept’s nature, seductive allure, political misuse and potentially civilization-wrecking power.

Care for some “snuggling”? Such appears to be among the deepest thoughts and most memorable expressions of our current generation of poets. The best-known, “instant” kind, anyway. The real kind still exist, poet David Solway notes in this essay, although they’ve been pushed to the cultural margins. And while understanding and appreciating real poetry – a learned and often challenging practise – has fallen into disfavour, it remains vital to our civilization, if there is to be one. That millions of people are buying Instagram poetry, Solway argues, does not change the fact that it is self-indulgent rubbish.

Is it possible the modern world so readily accepted government-decreed physical isolation because most of its inhabitants were already living essentially disconnected lives? For people existing mainly in a virtual world, does it even matter that they can’t go out into the real world? Author, poet and songwriter David Solway observes how, once they do venture back out, many people hardly even look up or recognize others. While accepting the usefulness of the mobile device, Solway ruminates on the increasingly obvious psychological, social and, yes, civilizational effects of this ubiquitous technology.

Putting numbers to nearly everything is the postmodern world’s way of separating facts and knowledge from mere opinion or superstition. This not merely reflects a cramped view of knowledge, it is false and immensely damaging to rational inquiry, discussion and the dissemination of knowledge. David Solway mounts a counter-argument for quality over mere quantity. Although nominally about the social sciences and aimed at its practitioners, Solway’s essay serves up food for thought for any consumer, customer or target of the social sciences: students, their parents, business people, employers, government officials, voters. In short, all of us.

Smear, denounce, attack, delegitimize and wreck their career. The twisted toolbox of today’s left – including here in Canada – should be growing familiar to conservatives, for victims in virtually all walks of life topple almost daily. One of the latest is sociologist Ricardo Duchesne, long of the University of New Brunswick but, as of last week, no longer. David Solway illuminates the sordid saga of a solid researcher and author becoming the left’s racist du jour.

With the possible exception of executives of regulated utilities or owners of supply-managed farms, you rarely find socialists running private businesses. Except, apparently, in the near-failed socialist state of Greece. Canadian writer David Solway made this discovery at an antiquarian bookstore in Athens, where he learned from the hard-bargaining proprietor that socialists can be as good at taking other people’s money as they are at spending it.